as fine a residence as any prince
in Europe.

Soon I entered the forest, and walked on for an hour or more in its cool
sombre shade. The great trees enlaced with one another over my head, and
the sunshine stole through in patches as bright as diamonds, and
hardly bigger. I was enchanted with the place, and, finding a felled
tree-trunk, propped my back against it, and stretching my legs out gave
myself up to undisturbed contemplation of the solemn beauty of the woods
and to the comfort of a good cigar. And when the cigar was finished and
I had (I suppose) inhaled as much beauty as I could, I went off into
the most delightful sleep, regardless of my train to Strelsau and of
the fast-waning afternoon. To remember a train in such a spot would
have been rank sacrilege. Instead of that, I fell to dreaming that I
was married to the Princess Flavia and dwelt in the Castle of Zenda, and
beguiled whole days with my love in the glades of the forest--which made
a very pleasant dream. In fact, I was just impressing a fervent kiss on
the charming lips of the princess, when I heard (and the voice seemed at
first a part of the dream) someone exclaim, in rough strident tones.

"Why, the devil's in it! Shave him, and he'd be the King!"

The idea seemed whimsical enough for a dream: by the sacrifice of my
heavy moustache and carefully pointed imperial, I was to be transformed
into a monarch! I was about to kiss the princess again, when I arrived
(very reluctantly) at the conclusion that I was awake.

I opened my eyes, and found two men regarding me with much curiosity.
Both wore shooting costumes and carried guns. One was rather short
and very stoutly built, with a big bullet-shaped head, a bristly grey
moustache, and small pale-blue eyes, a trifle bloodshot. The other was a
slender young fellow, of middle height, dark in complexion, and bearing
himself with grace and distinction. I set the one down as an old
soldier: the other for a gentleman accustomed to move in good society,
but not unused to military life either. It turned out afterwards that my
guess was a good one.

The elder man approached me, beckoning the younger to follow. He did so,
courteously raising his hat. I rose slowly to my feet.

"He's the height, too!" I heard the elder murmur, as he surveyed my six
feet two inches of stature. Then, with a cavalier touch of the cap, he
addressed me:

"May I ask your name?"

"As you have taken the first step in the acquaintan