The elegant attache of the Secretary for Foreign Affairs bowed, saying:
"I am extremely sorry to bring your Majesty this bad news."
A voice from the depth of the cushions inquired:
"What bad news?"
"I am telling your Majesty that it would be difficult--even impossiblefor you to go to the Longchamps races as you had the intention ofdoing."
"And why not?"
"The President of the Republic opens to-day the exposition at theBagatelle Museum. If your Majesty went to the Bois de Boulogne you wouldrun the risk of meeting him. You would then be obliged to stop and talka few moments, but as this interview has not been foreseen and arrangedfor it would be very awkward."
"That is true."
"That is all I had to convey to your Majesty."
"Let me see, what is your name, Monsieur?"
"I am Count Adhemar de Candieres, your Majesty."
"Well, Count, many thanks! You may retire."
The Count gracefully bowed himself out and with a convulsive movement ofthe cushions Jerome Fandor sprang up and burst out laughing.
"Ah!" he cried, "I thought that chap would never go! Your Majesty!...Sire ... the King ... pleasant names to be called when you're notaccustomed to them. I've already had twenty-four hours of it, and if itgoes on much longer I shall begin to think it's not a joke.
"And the King himself, what's become of him ... what isFrederick-Christian II doing now ... that's something I'd like to findout."
The journalist had indeed sufficient food for thought. From the dawn ofNew Year's Day he had gone from surprise to surprise. At first hethought he had been brought to the Royal Palace Hotel at the instigationof the King. That would have been the simple solution of the affair. TheKing must have realized the awkward predicament in which his companionwas placed and in spite of his drunken stupor he would come to hisassistance as soon as possible. As a matter of fact, Fandor had been setat liberty. The journalist therefore had waited patiently for thearrival of the King, who was unaccountably late.
Then little by little it began to dawn on him that the hotel peoplewere considering him not as a friend of the King but as the Kinghimself! Under ordinary circumstances, he would at once have made hisidentity known, but against that there were now a multitude ofobjections. His presence in the apartment of the murdered Susy d'Orselhad created an ambiguous and disagreeable situation. Again, was thepersonnel of the hotel really duped by the substitution?
The situation was becoming more and more difficult for Fandor. Herealized that he was being watched. The evening before one of the clerksof the Royal Palace Hotel had informed him that his Majesty's automobilewas ready. For a moment Fandor did not know what to do, but finallydecided to take a chance for an outing. As soon as he had comedownstairs he regretted his decision. Among the persons lounging in thelobby he recognized five or six detectives whom he had known and herealized that the police would have accurate information as to where hemight go. On reaching the door he saw three or four automobiles lined upoutside. Which one belonged to the King? Faced by this situation heacted without hesitation, he turned quickly and went back to the Royalapartment, where during the rest of the evening he had been left inpeace. The following morning he awoke with a violent headache, andapplied the usual remedy for the neuralgia to which he was subject. Hebound up his head with a large silk scarf which he found in the Royalwardrobe. During the course of the morning his hotel bill was brought tohim, which amounted to four thousand francs.
"Pretty stiff," he muttered, "for three days' stay. It may be all rightfor Frederick-Christian II, but for a poor devil of a journalist it israther awkward."
Fandor was wondering what he should do about it when the telephone rangto announce a visitor. After listening at the receiver, his facesuddenly lighted with a broad smile.
"Show him up," he answered.
Several moments afterwards a man entered the apartment He was aboutforty and wore the conventional frock coat and light gloves.
"I am," he said, "the private secretary of the Comptoir National deCredit and am at your Majesty's disposition for the settlement ofaccounts. Your Majesty will excuse our sub-director for not having comehimself to take your orders as it is his pleasure and honor generally todo, but he has been ill for several days and that is why I have beggedpermission for this audience with your Majesty."
Fandor with difficulty repressed his desire to laugh and congratulatedhimself that he had escaped the danger of being shown up by thesub-director who knew the real King. The Secretary brought with him alarge sum of money which he placed at the disposal of the sovereign. Fora moment Fandor was tempted to accept the money but his scruples heldhim back. If things should turn out badly it would not do to lay himselfopen to the charge of usurping the Royal funds as well as thepersonality of the King. So he limited himself to handing over the hotelbill, saying:
"Kindly settle this without delay and don't stint yourself with thetips."
A little later a porter entered with newspapers. Fandor seized themeagerly, but after a single glance he could not repress a movement ofimpatience.
"These idiots," he growled to himself, "always bring me the Hesse-Weimarpapers, and I don't know a confounded word of German. What I would liketo get hold of is a copy of _La Capitale_."
He rang the bell intending to give the order for a copy to be sent up,but at that moment a servant announced:
"Mlle. Marie Pascal is here, your Majesty."
"What does she want?"
The servant handed Fandor a letter.
"Your Majesty has granted an interview to her."
Without thinking the journalist asked: "Is she pretty?"
The employe of the Royal Palace kept a straight face. He was too much inthe habit of dealing with royal patrons. The King might joke as much ashe pleased, but the same liberty was not granted to others. He thereforemade a deep bow and said with a tone of profound deference: