"Has Monsieur le Baron any trunks to be examined? This is the Hesse-Weimar Customs." These words, spoken in a respectful but guttural voice, startled Juve from the deep sleep into which he had fallen after a very unpleasant night. The detective opened his eyes and stretched himself. The pale light of dawn struggled through the windows of the sleeping car, the curtains of which had been carefully drawn. Outside nothing was to be seen, for besides the mud which covered the windows a heavy fog lay over the country. The train came to a standstill, and before Juve stood an individual dressed in an elegant blue and yellow uniform plentifully covered with gold braid. Juve looked around to see the man who was being addressed by the title of Monsieur le Baron and finally came to the conclusion that it was himself to whom the man was speaking. "Why do you call me Monsieur le Baron?" The "Why, Monsieur ... it's the custom. No one but the nobility travel first class." Juve smiled and replied: "That's all right, my friend, but in the future call me simply, 'Marquis.'" The official again saluted and seizing Juve's valise traced on it the cabalistic chalk mark which allowed it to pass the frontier. The evening before, the detective had taken his seat in the 10.50 express from the Gare du Nord in Paris for Cologne and Berlin. He had the good luck to find that a sleeping car had been attached to the end of the train which would take him directly to Glotzbourg. At the frontier he changed into a local, which jogged peacefully along, stopping every few minutes at small stations. The country of Hesse-Weimar spread out attractive and varied. Numerous small hills crowned with woods succeeded the green valleys they passed through. The houses were Swiss in architecture and seemed built for comfort and elegance. The little Kingdom seemed to breathe peace, simplicity and well-being. On his arrival at Hesse-Weimar, Juve had not been without some apprehension. The formal declaration of the grotesque Wulf had reassured the French authorities as to the fate of the King, but to Juve, who knew that Fandor was installed at the Royal Palace, the search for the real King was of paramount importance. "Glotzbourg.... All out!" The detective seized his bag, hurried out of the car, hailed a cab and drove to the Hotel Deux-Hemispheres, which had been recommended by his colleague. After engaging his room Juve asked the porter to telephone to the police to find out when Heberlauf could see him. While waiting for the reply he took a bath and changed his clothes. After having washed and shaved, he was about to go down to the lobby of the Hotel when a knock came at the door. "Come in!" he cried. A very tall and thin individual with a parchment-like face entered and bowed ceremoniously. "To whom have I the honor...?" Juve inquired. "I am Monsieur Heberlauf, head of the police at Hesse-Weimar.... Have I the pleasure of speaking to Monsieur Juve?" Juve, surprised at the visit, excused the disorder of the room and tried to make his guest comfortable. "Monsieur Wulf advised me of your intended visit to our Capital." In a very few moments Juve was able to size up his man, who seemed only too anxious to impart information about himself and his affairs. While quite as simple-minded as Wulf, he appeared far more sinister. Juve also divined without much difficulty that his wife, Madame Heloise Heberlauf, was the best informed woman in the kingdom regarding gossip and scandal. "In fact," declared the chief of police, "I can be of very little assistance to you, Monsieur. But my wife can give you all the information you need." Juve made it clear to Monsieur Heberlauf that he wished to obtain an entry to the Court as soon as possible. Monsieur Heberlauf replied that nothing would be easier than a presentation to the Queen. It happened that she was receiving in the afternoon, and Madame Heberlauf would take the necessary steps for his introduction. He ended by saying: "Do come and lunch with us without ceremony. You will have plenty of time afterward to dress for the reception.... Have you a Court costume?" Juve had overlooked that item. "No, I haven't," he replied. "Is it indispensable?" "It is, but don't worry, Madame Heberlauf will take charge of that. She will be able to find you the necessary garments." The luncheon engagement made for twelve o'clock sharp, the Chief of Police, now more solemn than ever, rose and took his leave. "Well, Monsieur Juve, don't you think that looks fine?" Juve was anxiously regarding himself in the glass, examining the effect of his costume, while Madame Heberlauf, a fat little red-faced woman, was circling around, eyeing him from every angle and clapping her hands with pleasure at the success of her efforts. The lunch had been bountiful, and thoroughly German. Preserved fruit was served with the fish, and gooseberry jam with the roast. Juve was now costumed "Don't be late," Madame Heberlauf advised, "for the Queen is very punctual, and there are a number of formalities to go through before you can be presented to her." The Palace of the King was on the outskirts of the town, and was reached by a drive through a Park which the inhabitants had named Pois de Pulugne. It was built upon the top of a hill and had a fine view over the surrounding country. The garden surrounding the Palace had been artistically laid out, a fine lawn stretching away from the main entrance. The building itself was a miniature copy of Versailles. Having left his carriage at the gate Juve followed Madame Heberlauf's instructions and made his way to the left wing of the Palace. Upon his card of introduction was written the title "Comte," for, as Madame Heberlauf had explained, the Queen had a penchant for meeting members of the nobility. "Your welcome will be made much easier if you are thought to be noble," Madame Heberlauf had explained. As it was imperative that the reason for Juve's visit should be kept from the Court, he had arranged a little story with Madame Heberlauf. The Comte Juve was a Canadian explorer who, after "God forgive us the lie," exclaimed Monsieur Heberlauf, "but as Monsieur Juve's mission is in the interest of the King Frederick-Christian, we are thoroughly justified in the deception." The Queen's chamberlain, Monsieur Erick von Kampfen, after carefully examining Juve's credentials, led the detective into a drawing-room in which were already gathered a number of persons. An officer, in a wonderful uniform, came forward and introduced him to several of his companions. "Princesse de Krauss, duc de Rutisheimer, colonel ..." Juve was not surprised at this. The excellent Madame Heberlauf had warned him that such was the usage of the Court, and that before being admitted to the presence of the sovereign, the guests were introduced to one another. Juve was on his guard against committing the slightest imprudence, but his new friends were quickly at ease with him and very amiable in their attentions. He was soon surrounded by a number of young women begging for details of his "Will His Majesty the King be present at the Queen's reception to-day?" The Princess looked at Juve in amazement, and then burst out laughing. "It is easy to see you have just arrived from the middle of Africa, or you would know that His Majesty the King is in Paris.... Surely you must know that, since you tell me that you came through Paris on your way here." The Duchess de Rutisheimer, a rather pretty and distinguished looking woman, drew the detective apart and whispered behind her fan: "Our King is a gay bird, Count, and we know very well why he goes to Paris." The Duchess spoke with such an air of annoyance that Juve could hardly prevent a smile. "One might criticise His Majesty for going so far away to seek what was so close to hand." "Ah, indeed, you are right," the Princess sighed, "there must be something about these Parisian women. M. Erick von Kampfen, the chamberlain, entered the room at this moment and announced: "Ladies and gentlemen, kindly pass into the gallery. Her Majesty the Queen will be ready to receive you in a moment." Behind him came the little Duc Rudolphe, who was informing some of his friends as though it were a fine piece of scandal: "The Grand Duchess Alexandra hasn't come yet ... and they are wondering if she will come." |