h floor, Mademoiselle. I passed her as I
was going up to get M. de Serac's laundry."

"Ah, thank you, then I will wait for her."

Marie Pascal took a seat in the office, but at the end of ten minutes
she became bored and decided to go out and get a breath of the fresh
morning air.

As she reached the entrance she noticed an article of clothing lying on
the ground.

"A woman's chemise," she exclaimed, picking it up. "The laundryman must
have dropped it."

Then suddenly she grew pale and retraced her steps to the office.

"Good God!" she cried, leaning for support upon the back of a chair.

CHAPTER VII

THE KING RECEIVES

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 impossible
for you to go to the Longchamps races as you had the intention of
doing."

"And why not?"

"The President of the Republic opens to-day the exposition at the
Bagatelle Museum. If your Majesty went to the Bois de Boulogne you would
run the risk of meeting him. You would then be obliged to stop and talk
a few moments, but as this interview has not been foreseen and arranged
for 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 of
the 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 not
accustomed to them. I've already had twenty-four hours of it, and if it
goes on much longer I shall begin to think it's not a joke.

"And the King himself, what's become of him ... what is
Frederick-Christian II doing now ... that's something I'd like to find
out."

The journalist had indeed sufficient food for thought. From the dawn of
New Year's Day he had gone from surprise to surprise. At first he
thought he had been brought to the Royal Palace Hotel at the instigation
of the King. That would have been the simple solution of the affair. The
King must have realized the awkward predicament in which his companion
was placed and in