Obedient to the Grand Chamberlain's invitation, the assembled guests passed into the great gallery at the end of which an immense salon was seen, still empty; it was the room in which the Queen held her drawing-room.

It was sparsely furnished; a large gilded armchair, which was really a throne, stood at the farther end between two windows; the floor was waxed until it shone, and the surface was so slippery that Juve felt some fear of mishaps.

First came the guard with a clatter of sabres, then two heralds, and finally Her Majesty Hedwige, Queen of Hesse-Weimar, who proceeded to the throne and sat down.

She was a little body with a pinched and nervous expression of face. She trotted along like an old woman, her shoulders hunched up, and distributed nods right and left in response to the profound bows of her courtiers.

This was not in the least as Juve had pictured her. He had seen her a dozen years previously, when she was a young girl engaged to Frederick-Christian; she had then appeared charming, and majestic in bearing. Now she looked like a woman of the middle class, bourgeois from head to heels.

Near the throne stood two officers in gala uniform, while the guard formed a circle round the throne.

The audience began.

The first Chamberlain called out a name, and a matron, after making the three traditional courtseys, came forward and chatted in a low voice with the Queen. Juve was observing the ceremony with interest, when his reflections were cut short by a voice calling:

"Monsieur le Comte de Juff!"

The detective, slightly intimidated, advanced toward the sovereign, while the grand Chamberlain leaned over and whispered his name and rank to the Queen.

"Monsieur le Comte de Juff," said the Queen in a little tinkling voice, "I am very happy to meet you. I congratulate you upon your travels. I am especially interested in the natives of Africa. We had a negro village here a few years ago ... hadn't we, M. von Kampfen?"

"Quite true, your Majesty," replied the Chamberlain, bowing deeply. The Queen turned again to Juve:

"I congratulate you, Monsieur, and I beg you to persevere in the work to which your special aptitude calls you."

The interview was at an end, and Juve was left wondering whether he should leave the room. The Chamberlain signed to him to retire behind the throne, where he found the amiable Mme. Heberlauf.

Juve, now standing quite close to the Queen, was enabled to overhear the next interview; with an old professor this time—Professor Muller. The Queen said:

"I am very happy to meet you. I congratulate you upon your pupils. I am especially interested in scholars."

Then turning to the Chamberlain:

"We have some very excellent schools here, have we not, Monsieur Kampfen?"

"Quite true, your Majesty."

"I congratulate you. Can I beg you to persevere in the work to which your special aptitude calls you?"

It was all Juve could do to keep from bursting into laughter.

The same speech was being made to a couple of young girls who were making their dÉbut at the Court, when the circle round the Queen noticed that she was growing uneasy and preoccupied. Finally she turned to her first maid of honor, and cried in a sharp tone:

"Really, Madame, it is extraordinary that the electric lights should have been turned on while it is still daylight!... Kindly see that they are extinguished."

The first maid of honor, very embarrassed, passed along the order to the second maid of honor, who in turn hunted up the lady of the household, who relaid the message to the captain of the guard, and while he went in search of the proper subordinate, the attention of the Court was distracted by the entrance of an individual to whom everybody paid the greatest deference.

The Chamberlain announced:

"His Highness, Prince Gudulfin!"

The Prince was a distinguished looking young man of twenty-five, clean-shaven and dressed with extreme care and richness of attire.

He presented a great contrast to his cousin, the Queen of Hesse-Weimar, and as he approached the throne, his head high and a sarcastic smile on his lips, Hedwige seemed to shrink into her armchair, unable to meet the look in his eyes.

The suppressed hatred of the reigning dynasty for the younger branch was of ancient date and a matter of common knowledge. The recent and prolonged absence of Frederick-Christian had given Prince Gudulfin the opportunity by which he had profited to advance his claims and conspire for the overthrow of the Government, with himself as the King of Hesse-Weimar.

Therefore his presence was regarded as a great piece of audacity, and every eye was watching how the Prince would be received. The question in every mind was whether the Grand Duchess Alexandra, a woman of majestic presence and great beauty, would also appear. Prince Gudulfin had been paying her conspicuous attentions, and it was rumored that the Duchess dreamed of a nobler crown than the one her rank gave her title to bear.

The appearance of the two at the Queen's reception! What a scandal! But with the presence of the Prince came definite word that the Duchess had excused herself on the ground of a severe headache, a pretext which deceived nobody.

Prince Gudulfin, after observing the correct formalities, stood before the Queen waiting for the invitation to sit by her side.

Hedwige, still preoccupied by the electric lights, seemed to have forgotten him, and the situation was fast becoming embarrassing for the Prince, who could neither go nor stay. It was not long, however, before he saw what was troubling the Queen, and stepping aside he turned off the lights.

"There is no such thing as unnecessary economy, is there, cousin?" he murmured with a smile.

Hedwige blushed and gave him a furious look. She then proffered the tardy invitation to sit by her side. As the audience came to a close, the Queen in a loud voice announced:

"I wish to inform you that I have received news of the King. His Majesty is well and is in Paris. He will return very soon."

The Queen's guard now led the way back to the private apartments, followed by the maids of honor, and then the Queen herself hurried off as though glad to be finished with the whole affair.

Juve, an attentive listener to the numberless intrigues on foot on every side, divined the comedies and tragedies which underlay this little Court, more gossipy and vulgar than a servant's parlor. Especially he noted the frequent and bitter allusions to the perpetual trips of the King to Paris. These cost the royal treasury a pretty penny, and for the twentieth time Juve heard references to a certain red diamond belonging to Frederick-Christian. He had known for a long time that such a diamond was numbered among the crown jewels, and that it was supposed to represent a value of several millions, but he had imagined it was kept in a place of safety. Now he learned that the King was suspected of having pawned it to raise money. With his most innocent air, he questioned one of the officers.

"I should think it a very simple matter to find out whether the King took the diamond with him. It must surely be in the keeping of loyal and tried officials."

The officer smiled:

"My dear Count, it is easily seen that you come from the depths of Africa. Otherwise you would know that the diamond is hidden in the private apartments of the King—nobody knows where, not even the Queen. You may easily divine the uneasiness of the people and the advantage the affair gives to Prince Gudulfin."

Juve now felt that the King was still in Paris. The problem thus far had become clearer. But under what conditions was he living? It was quite possible that he had been kidnapped by some person who knew of the diamond's existence.

While pondering these matters, Juve had unconsciously wandered away from the salon and now found himself in the ante-room on the ground floor. Here he came face to face with Mme. Heberlauf, who was accompanied by a white-haired old man whom she at once introduced.

"Count de Juff, let me present the Dean of the Court, the Burgomaster of Rung Cassel ..."

"The deuce!" thought Juve, "a bore, by the look of him!"

Escape was hopeless, the Burgomaster seized the detective by the arm and announced:

"I am the author of a work in 25 volumes on "The History of the Dark Continent." Now I hear that you have just returned from a journey of exploration in Africa and ..."

The old historian dragged Juve into the Palace gardens and the latter thought:

"Hang it, I couldn't have pitched on a worse introduction, I don't know the first thing about Africa."

But the author of the 25 volumes quickly set him at ease. For he began by admitting that he himself had never set foot out of Glotzbourg.

Under these circumstances Juve recovered his nerve and glibly discussed the peculiarities of the African fauna.

An hour later the two men were still talking, but this time it was Juve who was anxious to keep the conversation going. The good Burgomaster had drifted into gossip about the affairs of the Kingdom; suddenly he turned to the detective with a question:

"Do you believe in this story about a visit to Paris?"

Juve hesitated and then made an ambiguous reply.

The Burgomaster continued:

"Personally, I don't. You see, my windows look toward the large octagonal wing in which are the apartments of the King. Now, for the past week I have noticed strange lights moving about in these supposedly empty rooms, and I have a notion that our dear King Frederick-Christian is very far from being in Paris. In fact, I think he is held a prisoner in his own Palace!

"Ah, Monsieur, you cannot imagine the intrigues which are being hatched against that noble heart; the black wickedness of the soul of Prince Gudulfin, hidden under the exterior of his seductive person!"

Juve was impressed. He was inclined to give some credence to the suppositions of the Burgomaster. For, after all, his search in Paris for the King had been without result and he had had the presentiment that his trip to Hesse-Weimar would throw some light upon the strange disappearance of the monarch.

So, while the old man was talking, Juve carefully noted in his mind the minutest architectural details of the octagonal tower which stood out clearly against the sky.