doctor.
Mademoiselle d'Orsel has killed herself, or at least she is very badly
injured."

The words were scarcely out of Fandor's mouth when the rapidly
disappearing footsteps of the concierge were heard clattering
downstairs. Frederick-Christian, in a dazed condition, stood in the
dining-room, mechanically drinking a liqueur.

"Look here, what does this mean?" cried Fandor.

The King looked at him with intense stupefaction, trying, it seemed, to
co-ordinate his faculties. Then, with a greater calmness than in his
condition seemed possible, he replied:

"Why, I haven't the least idea."

"But ... what have you done since I left you? You were both seated side
by side on the sofa. How did Susy d'Orsel come to fall out of the
window? What have you done?"

"I don't know. I didn't budge from the sofa until you rang the bell."

"But ... Susy!"

"She left me for a moment. I thought she had gone to see you out."

"That's impossible ... she didn't leave you ... it's you who ... for
God's sake, explain!... It's too serious a business."

The King seemed unable to take in the situation. Fandor determined to
try a shock. Going close to him he spoke in a low voice:

"I beg your Majesty to tell me."

This had an immediate effect. The King staggered back and stared,
wide-eyed.

"I ... I don't understand."

"Yes," insisted Fandor, "your Majesty does understand. You know that I
am aware in whose presence I am standing. You are Frederick-Christian
II, King of Hesse-Weimar... and I, your Majesty, am Jerome Fandor,
reporter on _La Capitale_ ... a journalist."

The King did not appear to attach much importance to Fandor's words.
Peaceably, without haste, he put on his overcoat and hat. Then, picking
up his cane, he moved toward the door.

"Here! what are you doing?"

"I'm going."

"You can't."

"Yes, I can; it's all right, don't worry, I'll arrange matters."

The King appeared so calmly confident that Fandor stood dumbfounded.

Here certainly was an individual out of the common! The journalist had
seen many strange happenings in his adventurous career, but never had he
come across such an amazing situation. For now he had no doubt of the
guilt of the King. What, however, could have been the motive of such
odious savagery? Was it possible he had taken seriously the innocent
flirtation between Susy and himself? Had the King taken vengeance upon
his mistress in a moment of jealous insanity?

No, that was out of the