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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."
He had the strength to resist the temptation. Again he moved forward and this time ran into a large box. His hand touched something cold. It was meat of some kind. After smelling and tasting it he flung it from him. It was a salt ham. Hours passed while Frederick-Christian suffered the tortures of hunger and thirst.
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.
First, that Susy d'Orsel had really been murdered and secondly that the King Frederick-Christian had had no hand in it. "Is your Majesty very unhappy over the death of Mlle. d'Orsel?" Fandor glanced sharply at the young woman and then replied enigmatically: "I am, of course, very much shocked at the tragic end of this poor girl. But what is the matter with you?"
"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?"
"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."
Take up your customary life again as though it had never been interrupted, as though nothing had happened since the night of December 31st." Frederick-Christian, the victim of a racking headache, read and reread these strange mysterious words, without in the least understanding their meaning.
Yes, she would go and find Juve, the detective Juve, as the King had ordered her, and she would tell him everything. The servant was waiting motionless for the King's answer. "Wulfenmimenglaschk," thought he, "that must be one of those extraordinary German-American cocktails which Frederick-Christian is accustomed to order." He turned to the servant: "Pour it out."
He had not mentioned to his chief that his real object in going to Glotzbourg was to try to obtain a clue as to the real or apparent disappearance of the King Frederick-Christian II.
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!
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