Seine, he
climbed into the basin at the foot of one of the bronze naiads and waded
through mud and water to the base of the statue.

"Now, then, let's see, what must I do next? Seize the statue by the
neck, place the left hand in the middle of the body and sway it."

Suiting the action to the word, the journalist applied all his force and
in a moment the statue parted in two and swung toward him. The hollow
interior appeared like a black hole. Bending forward, Fandor cried:

"Sire, Sire, can you hear me?"

His voice came echoing back to him, but there was no reply from the
depths.

"Ah, I can't be mistaken!" he cried, desperately. "Wulf heard this
fountain singing the national anthem of Hesse-Weimar, the statue is
hollow, therefore the King should be hidden in it."

Again he stood, listening. After a pause an exclamation of surprise
escaped him.

"Why, it's the same noise I heard in the pipe ... it's a snore ... the
unfortunate man is somewhere asleep!"

To call louder would have been dangerous, and besides, quick action was
necessary.

"Nothing venture, nothing gain," he whispered, as, revolver in hand, he
stepped inside the statue. He slid rapidly down for a distance of six or
eight feet and then landed on earth. There he lay for a minute or two,
reasoning that if he should be met by a fusillade, he would be safer in
that position.

However, complete silence reigned about him, broken only by the steady
and distant snoring.

Then, lighting his electric lamp, Fandor began a survey of the premises
into which he had so daringly intruded.

CHAPTER XIX

FREE!

After a brief inspection, a cry of surprise rose to his lips.

"Good Lord!... there he is! Frederick-Christian."

It was indeed the King--a prisoner in the hollow foundations of the
Singing Fountains.

"Sire, Sire!"

The King slept on. But his sleep seemed troubled; he breathed in gasps.

"Sire! Sire! Wake up! I have come to save you! Upon my word, that is
what might be called a royal sleep."

The journalist's words made no impression on the sleeping monarch, so,
ignoring all formality, he laid hands upon the King and gave him a
violent shaking.

"For Heaven's sake, try to recognize me ... speak to me ... I am Jerome
Fandor ... I've come to save you."

In leaning over the sleeping man, Fandor suddenly got a whiff of his
breath and then drew back, amazed.

"Why, he's drunk! As drunk as a lord! Where the deuce did he get it?...