"Well, M. Vicart?"

"Well, M. Annion, that's all."

"That's all!" replied M. Annion. "That's nothing! We've been talking for a quarter of an hour without getting anywhere or reaching any conclusion."

"But, M. Annion...."

"No, I say.... It is I who have been giving you all the information and that, you know, is rather surprising.... You are the acting head of the Secret Service and you should have known all this. It's not my place to tell you what's going on at the Royal Palace."

"M. Annion, nothing at all has happened."

This reply threw M. Annion into a sudden fit of anger.

"Is that so? Nothing has happened, hasn't it? And you don't realize the gravity of the case! Really, Vicart, it's discouraging! Can't you understand that we must absolutely come to some decision? The ministry is under the constant threat of interpellations and that state of affairs cannot continue."

"Oh, I don't say the situation isn't serious, I only say nothing new has turned up."

"That's just what I'm complaining about—your absolute lack of comprehension. To begin with, a week has gone by ... a whole week since Juve left, and not a word from Glotzbourg.... In fact, Juve is a day late already.... Does that convey nothing to you?... To me it means that Juve has found nothing there."

"I don't quite understand," ventured the bewildered Vicart.

M. Annion took pity on his subordinate.

"Before Juve left he had proved to me that the King was the real King; isn't that so?"

"Yes."

"But that doesn't alter the fact that the King is a murderer.... Juve suspected some court intrigue, that's why he left for Glotzbourg. Now what is our situation? We have a King who has committed murder, and we don't arrest him. But that is the least of my worries. What about public opinion on the one hand and the extraordinary audacity of this monarch on the other?"

"Public opinion?"

"Yes! why the deuce don't you read the papers? Learn what is going on! Take the opposition press—they're always hinting at the weakness of the government in not arresting criminals on account of diplomatic complications. While I've seen to it that no more manifestations take place outside the Royal Palace, that the public for the time being is muzzled, still it is only waiting a chance to break out again. And now here is Frederick-Christian writing to the Minister of Foreign Affairs saying he wishes to meet the President of the Republic ... while he is here incognito. Still, by the terms of the protocol, he owes a visit to the ElysÉe—he's right about that."

"Well, what then?"

"Why, it complicates things very awkwardly. How can the President receive, especially incognito, a King who is thought to be an assassin ... you don't know what might be made of it.... This extraordinary Frederick-Christian takes advantage of his impunity. He's had lots of time since the death of Susy to slip quietly back to his own country.... That would have let us out ... instead of which he comes out in the limelight ... gets himself talked about ... a nice time to choose, I must say!"

M. Annion was interrupted by the entrance of a clerk who handed him a visiting card.

"Who is it now?... Ah ... show them in."

He then turned to M. Vicart:

"Don't go.... It may be something connected with the King."

The door was opened and the visitors announced:

"M. the Commissaire of Police Giraud—Mlle. Marie Pascal."

"Well, Monsieur Giraud ... take a seat, Mademoiselle ... what have you come about?"

"A very serious business," answered M. Giraud. "I have come to see you after a visit from Mlle. Marie Pascal. She will repeat to you the extraordinary things she has said to me."

"What is it all about, Mademoiselle?"

Pale and anxious, Marie Pascal rose and advanced to M. Annion's desk, and said, with a trembling voice:

"Monsieur, I went to M. Giraud about a call I wanted to make on his Majesty Frederick-Christian, King of Hesse-Weimar."

"Yes?"

"Well, Monsieur, I was not received by the King."

M. Annion evinced no surprise.

"Unless I am mistaken you are the lace-maker who was so tragically mixed up in the death of Susy d'Orsel?... It was you who found the chemise ... it was you who ... however, go ahead, Mademoiselle, you were received by a secretary, by a chamberlain?"

"No! no! I was received by the King, but by a King who wasn't the real one, but an impostor!"

"Good God!" cried M. Annion.

Here was this impostor affair cropping up again. The girl must be crazy.

"But it's unbelievable! Come, Mademoiselle, weigh well the gravity of your words—you can scarcely be making this up as a joke, I hope. You can furnish absolute proof of what you say? Why do you think the King is not the King?"

Marie Pascal had recovered her self-control, and she gave M. Annion a detailed account of the audience she had obtained with Frederick-Christian. She hid nothing, neither his former warmth of feeling nor his recent coldness. She explained that his face no longer looked the same, nor had his voice the same sound, that he had attempted to hide behind the screen and finally that she was quite sure the man she saw was not the King.

"What did you do, Mademoiselle?"

This time M. Giraud spoke up:

"Mlle. Marie was wrong in what she did, but under the stress of emotion she raised the whole hotel and made such a row that M. Louis advised her to come and see me."

"Very good, and then?"

"Why, M. Annion, I hurried to the Royal Palace and made an investigation, where I confirmed what Mademoiselle had told me. I then decided I had better lay the matter before you."

M. Annion sat deep in thought for a few moments. Then he burst out:

"Hang it! Your accusation of imposture is absurd, Mademoiselle, utterly impossible!" Then, turning to M. Vicart, he added:

"Haven't we the formal declaration, irrefutable, of that Secret Service man ... Glaschk..."

"Wulfenmimenglaschk."

"That's it!... Have you seen him, M. Giraud?"

"I have, but I couldn't get anything out of him; he was three-quarters drunk, and furious with his Majesty who had just struck him."

M. Annion stared in amazement.

"But Frederick-Christian was his friend—his intimate friend ... they were pals ... and you say he struck him?"

Crossing quickly to the telephone, he called up:

"Hello! Are inspectors 42, 59 and 63 there? What? Then send them up."

"You did well to come to me, M. Giraud; we must clear up this business at any cost.... I've just sent for the three inspectors whom I detailed this morning to watch his Majesty Frederick-Christian...."

Then glancing at Marie Pascal:

"You'll hear what they have to say, Mademoiselle." A few minutes later the three men entered the office.

"Well, what is new? You've been shadowing him?"

"Yes, Monsieur."

"Anything to report?"

"Nothing much, Monsieur, only in regard to the conduct of the King. It seems that since this morning he has quite changed. Frederick-Christian, instead of keeping himself shut up as of late, now sees his friends again and has resumed his haughty manner and his fault-finding with the servants."

"What friends has he seen?"

"A young attachÉ of the Embassy arrived immediately after luncheon, and the director of his bank."

"And these men found nothing unusual?"

"No, chief, nothing at all."

M. Annion turned to Marie Pascal.

"You see, Mademoiselle, that is conclusive, isn't it? What probably happened was that the King had a fit of nerves, due to the death of his mistress, and then his return to his normal life misled you...."

Marie Pascal interrupted:

"No, Monsieur, no! Your inspectors are wrong! I who love him cannot be deceived! It is no longer Frederick-Christian II who is at the Royal Palace, it is an impostor! Besides, even if I could have been mistaken, he had no reason for not recognizing me, of not seeming to understand what I was saying."

The second inspector spoke up:

"Chief, I have something which will convince Mademoiselle that she is mistaken. I was able to get hold of one of his Majesty's collars which he had just worn. Its size is distinctly characteristic, being 18 inches. Now it would be very easy to verify the fact that the real King wears this size and also whether it fits the supposed impostor. In any case, Monsieur, from inquiries made among the hotel servants I find there can be no doubt that Frederick-Christian is actually staying there, and that his intimate friends have been received and have recognized him."

M. Annion did not answer.

"This Marie Pascal is crazy," he thought, "or else she is up to some game which I don't understand... the King is the King all right, but, hang it all, that doesn't alter the fact that he is an assassin."