When I entered the room the second time, old von Augener was still sitting at the table, and the Emperor was standing at one of the windows, his stern, strong profile showing to me clear cut and hard against the light. I halted just inside the door, and stood gazing at him. I was in a sense half fascinated by the crowd of emotions which his presence roused. To me he was still what he had always been—the type of much that is best and highest in mankind, while his actual greatness and nobility were magnified many times by the glamour of my old personal affection for him. Had he known who I was, what, I wondered, would have been the manner of my reception? As I entered the room the two members of the suite left it, and we three—the Emperor, von Augener, and I—were left alone. Ignorant though the harsh old man was of my identity, yet the hate and hostility which he had felt for me originally appeared to motive him now, for he scowled to the full as angrily as on that day when he had come to my cabin to pass the virtual sentence of death upon me.

"Now," he called suddenly, with a sharp, rasping jerk of his voice, for he saw that my eyes were fixed on the Emperor, "stand here, if you please," and he pointed to a spot in front of his table. "You refused to speak a few minutes since, and to tell me what you know of this matter. Perhaps you will do so now since his Majesty has graciously vouchsafed to give you another chance."

The harshness of his manner did more than anything else could have done to collect my somewhat scrambled wits.

"I did not refuse to say what I knew—I refused to submit to insinuations that were insulting to me. I told you that if you would question me without insult I would reply. I am only too anxious to make known every fact in my possession, and it was my intention to solicit an audience of his Majesty for that purpose."

The old bully listened with very ill grace to this, and would have frowned me down had he dared; but I was not to be stopped by him.

"You have told me how you went to Gramberg, and you allege that you remained there to protect the Countess Minna from a plot against her. How came you as a stranger to know anything about such a plot?"

"I was told that the Count von Nauheim was the acknowledged representative of a powerful section of the Gramberg supporters here in Munich, and that it was a part of the compact that he should have the countess as his wife; the alleged reason being the desire to secure to that section a direct share of the influence which the throne would naturally wield. As I knew that the count was already married, and a man of the vilest and most infamous character, the inference of treachery lay on the surface."

"The inference might affect the man himself, but how do you know that others were aware of his character?"

"The fact itself was a sufficient motive to induce me to try and save the girl from such a man—the proofs that others were concerned with him came afterward and gradually."

"What proofs?"

"That von Nauheim, at the instigation of others, had virtually murdered the Countess Minna's brother at the moment when a former plot was rife to carry the throne and put the Count Gustav upon it. The murder was in this wise;" and I told the story of Praga's duel.

As I spoke, unfolding the story gradually and with such skill as I had at command, I saw the face by the window growing darker and gloomier and sterner every minute.

"There is a nest of vermin here that needs clearing out," exclaimed von Augener at the close. "How do you know all this?"

"From Praga himself, who extorted the confession of the whole plot from von Nauheim both in writing and afterward in the presence of the Countess Minna and myself. Praga was himself attacked in turn by the agents of these men, because he had refused to do what they wished—to murder me. By a lucky stroke of fortune, it was I who chanced to come to his help."

"What attempts have been made on you, and, in your opinion, why?"

For answer I described the means by which I had at the meeting managed to make my life necessary for the carrying on of their scheme.

"There was a plot within a plot," I said—"an open plot, of which the securing of the crown for the Countess Minna was the object ostensibly; and a secret one, which aimed at her ruin, to make her unfit to become Queen by mating her with a man already married, or to ruin her by putting her into his power for an object infinitely more foul and vile. It was against that I had to fight, and to fight almost single-handed;" and I went on to describe at length many of the incidents of the past few weeks.

"Why did you not come to Berlin, sir?"

The question came from the Emperor, who wheeled round on me as if clinching an accusation, while he stared fixedly at me, those searching, piercing, wonderful eyes of his boring into my head.

"You would have spared us all this trouble."

"I should have spared myself also the humiliation of having no sufficient answer to your Majesty's question," was my reply. "I see it now. My motive was that I feared the enmity of the Ostenburg family would reach the Countess Minna wherever she might be. I was told, and believed that indeed, that they would suffer no Gramberg rival for the throne to remain alive and at liberty. I knew that they had compassed the death of the brother and had plotted a dishonor worse than death against the countess herself, and I believed there were no limits to their venom and hostility."

"But how could you hope to save her by allowing things to go on?" he asked again after a pause in the same sharp, indicting tone.

"I thought I had devised a scheme by which I could put the countess in a position of such strength that she could dictate virtually her own terms, and so secure that liberty which I feared they would never otherwise concede. My plan was to allow the conspiracy to go forward for putting the countess upon the throne, to postpone the marriage with von Nauheim, and then to watch for and thwart the attempt I knew would be made to get her into their power; and at the same time to deliver a counter-blow and to get the Ostenburg heir, the Duke Marx, into my own hands. I calculated that then I could make my own terms in the countess's interests."

"'Fore Heaven, sir, you don't lack daring to play fast and loose with thrones in this way," cried von Augener; while the Emperor stood sternly silent, revolving what I had said.

"Tell me the rest," he said abruptly.

"My scheme broke in my hands, because I was myself betrayed to them. The Baron Heckscher succeeded in gaining information of my plans, or rather of that part of them which I had made for the safe-keeping of the countess, and he outwitted me at the last moment," and I described the whole ruse by which Minna had been carried off at the ball and Clara Weylin put in her place.

The story was interesting enough to them, and both listened closely. When I ended, von Augener bent to read some of the papers on his desk, in order, as I saw, to compare what I had told him with what had been previously reported to him.

But the Kaiser needed no notes; that extraordinary memory of his carried every detail, item, and particular, and as I was telling him my version he was comparing it link for link with what he already knew, in a process of subtle mental analysis.

"And your next step?" he asked sharply after a short pause.

"To make my possession of the Duke Marx perfectly secure, and then to warn Baron Heckscher that I held the duke as a hostage for the safety of the countess."

"Do you mean to admit that you openly threatened to use violence on the person of the duke, the heir to the throne?" asked von Augener, as if aghast at my temerity in venturing on such a confession.

"I threatened it, and I meant it too," I replied, in a voice firm enough to prove that I was in earnest.

"You can see the heinousness of that offence?"

"It was not a tenth part so bad as the offences of the Ostenburg party. They had actually murdered one heir and threatened another. I had chosen a course and was compelled to carry it out my own way. But I knew the baron would never drive me to an extreme step of that kind. While I held the duke in pawn the baron was helpless and had no option but to yield to me. And this I made him understand," and with that I gave them a full report of my last interview with Baron Heckscher, and of the compact we then made—that Minna should be given up to me and the Duke Marx set at liberty, the condition being that the former should go away and leave the latter at liberty to come forward when called to the throne, and that there should be a subsequent definite renunciation by Minna of all claim to the crown.

"A pretty ring of king-makers, indeed!" exclaimed von Augener.

"And that 'compact,' as you term it, was carried out?" asked the Emperor.

"Yes, sire. But everything was jeopardized at the eleventh hour by the villany of the man von Nauheim, who made a bold effort to break away with the countess, having as his confederate her aunt, the Baroness Gratz."

"You scatter your charges with a free hand, young man. Every one appears to be a rogue but yourself," ejaculated von Augener, whose malice apparently prompted him to see and put my conduct in the worst light.

The Emperor lifted a protesting hand, however.

"Tell your tale," he said, addressing me curtly.

"Every word I say can be tested by independent inquiry," I answered. "These people are accused not by my words, but by their own acts."

I described then my journey to Landsberg and what had happened there, though I said nothing of the love scenes.

"And by that time, I suppose, you thought you had done enough to warrant you in running off with the countess herself?" said old von Augener.

I made no reply, but kept my face as though he had not spoken.

"How came you to attempt to fly the country?" asked the Emperor.

"I was not attempting to fly the country, sire," I replied readily. "I had told the countess of the interview with Baron Heckscher, and my advice to her was that she should put the frontier between her and the enemies who had betrayed and persecuted her with such virulence. I was taking her to Charmes, to the care of the man in whose place I stood, Herr von Fromberg, now known as M. Henri Frombe; and I had told her that I should immediately return either here or to Berlin to lay her case before your Majesty, that her interests might be secured and herself protected from further violence."

"But you kept up your personation of the Prince," cried von Augener, seeing another point to be scored against me.

"I deemed that a necessary step until all could be explained. The countess was left at Landsberg without a friend to whom she could turn. The Baroness Gratz, who should have protected her, had first betrayed her to Baron Heckscher, and then connived at von Nauheim stealing away with her from Landsberg. What then was I to do? I had explained to her that I was not the Prince, and it seemed that my only possible course was to take her to where she would at least be in the care of a relative, and, as I judged, safe. What else should I have done?"

"Is that all you have to say of your part in the plot?"

The question came from the Emperor as sharply as a pistol shot.

"I think I have told your Majesty everything of my share in it."

"You haven't told us what you hoped to gain by your work," said the vindictive old man, ruthless in his desire to injure me. "But I suppose it's no use to ask that," he added—this with a shrug of the shoulders, as if to suggest that I was no better than a paltry, unreliable rascal, who would tell any tale and any lie to serve his own ends.

I let the sneer pass unheeded.

"Could you form any opinion of the state of feeling in Munich or in the kingdom?" was the Emperor's next question.

"I know but little of either Munich or Bavaria, sire. The men I came in contact with were certainly men of influence, and as certainly were moved by feelings of deep resentment against the conduct of the King, his extravagance in particular. But I was planning for the Countess Minna's safety, and not probing Bavarian politics."

The Kaiser's face gave no indication of the impression which my words created, and after a moment's thought he dismissed that part of the matter with a sentence, and turned to another.

"You will write out a list of all the men whom you met. And now, what of the Countess Minna? Speak as plainly of her part as you have of your own."

The last words were welcome indeed. Like the wave of a brush, they wiped out the sneers of von Augener, and showed me they had produced no effect.

"I thank you, sire," I answered, my pulse quickening. "The countess has had no part or lot in all this, save that of passive acquiescence in my suggestions. She was against the scheme when her brother was the claimant for the throne; she remained hostile to it when he had been killed; and when the Prince, her father, died, she was resolute never under any circumstances to consent to take the crown. It was only the knowledge that her own personal safety was imperilled, and the belief that by this apparent agreement with the scheme she could best secure that safety, which induced her to consent—to even appear to consent—to any such plot being carried on in her name. For that belief I myself accept the responsibility. She left it to me to select the best road to safety, and she is as innocent as any unborn babe of even an intention to conspire against the King."

"You have taken a grave responsibility," he said sternly.

"And I trust your Majesty will visit on me alone the consequences," I answered earnestly. "This unfortunate girl had scarcely any one round her but those who were plotting to betray her, and it will be a strange irony if I, who at least was loyal to her, have brought her under the heavy lash of your Majesty's displeasure."

I spoke with warm feeling, and went on to put such reasons as my fear and love for Minna prompted why any penalty for what had been done should fall on me.

And as I spoke I watched the Emperor with eager, hungry keenness for some sign that my pleading was likely to prevail. But not a feature was relaxed for an instant, not a sign or token did he give of feeling. The face retained the same set, impassive, inflexible, gloomy sternness which he had maintained throughout. He heard me to the end, but made no response or reply.

There remained then but one thing more for me to say, one more avowal to make, and I thought of it with something like foreboding. He seemed so cold, so unimpressionable, so infinitely removed from me, that I could not bring myself to hope that any good would result from my declaring my identity. There appeared no chords of old friendship, no associations of comradeship to reawaken. But there was at least the chance that it would convince him I had spoken the truth.

He appeared to me as the type and embodiment of cold, rarefied, unemotional intellectuality. Judgment founded on justice, but feelingless; mind, not heart; the very presentment of retributive righteousness without the warmth of charity. A man who had accepted the high mission of his rulership in a spirit of unshakable faith in the heavenly character of the mission, but who in accepting it had bound down with the iron clamps of an implacable will the milder attributes which go to make humanity human.

Who was to say what would be the effect of an avowal like mine which, like a sudden sword-thrust, might pierce for once his armor of inflexibility and set flowing again the blood of his older nature?

It was he who touched the subject first, and in the form which I had anticipated. He broke a long pause to say:

"You have spoken freely enough, but what is the guarantee of your truth?"

I paused an instant, and, looking him straight in the face, I answered, with slow emphasis:

"I have never told your Majesty a lie in my life."

The unexpected character of the reply set him thinking, and he fixed his eyes on mine.

"What do you mean by that? Who are you and what was your real motive in this?"

Von Augener was also staring hard at me, and I could see that both were thinking hard in the effort to solve the puzzle I had evidently set them.

I let a minute pass without a word, and then said in a low voice:

"I am a man who for years has been under a ban, condemned to live an empty, useless, purposeless life. I saw in this affair at once a means of helping a helpless girl who was sorely beset by dangers; I longed for some sphere of activity for myself again; and I hoped that possibly I might even achieve an object that is never out of my thoughts."

I found myself speaking for the first time with nervousness and hesitation; and I faltered, and then stopped.

The Emperor made no reply, but kept his eyes fixed piercingly on my face.

Old von Augener sneered.

"We are getting to the truth now, I suppose."

The sneer was just the tonic I needed. I found my voice again, and went on in the same low tone.

"For years I have been one of the most pitiable and remorseful of your Majesty's subjects, and I was fighting in this thing in the vague hope that it might possibly in some means enable me to regain part of my old character."

I thought I could detect a faint symptom of concern on the tense, set face turned full on me—just a momentary dilation of the nostrils; but it passed before my pause ended, and in quite as brief, stern a tone as he had before used he asked:

"Who are you?"

I took heart, and tried to brace myself for the final effort.

"Your Majesty, one day some years ago in one of the upper reaches of the Elbe where the current was known to be fierce and dangerous two lads, who had stolen away from their companions, were bathing alone. The river was flooded and swollen, and the stream more than commonly perilous to the swimmers. It proved too powerful for one of them, and he gave a cry and sank. His friend—for they were close friends then—himself struggling hard with the stream, was ahead, and had nearly reached the bank, but turned back and dived for his friend, and under the mercy of God was the means of saving his life."

I stopped. The Emperor was staring at me with a look of such intentness as I have never seen on any human face before or since. He had drawn himself to his full height; and every muscle of his sinewy, powerful, tireless frame was at full tension, while his breath was labored, and came and went through his dilated nostrils as though the passing of it were a pain.

But he made no answer.

"One of the lads, sire, the one whose life was in danger, was the future ruler of the mighty German empire; the other"—I paused again, and then suddenly threw myself on one knee before him—"was your Majesty's most miserable subject, the Count Karl von Rudloff, whose shameful, violent deed against you later has now been punished by five years of bitter remorse and hopeless solitude. I am that unhappiest of men."

"Von Rudloff?" cried the Emperor, now in amazement, while the older man sprang to his feet, and both stood looking down at me in unbounded astonishment.