ow sorry you
are and that you are now sure I am not guilty? You must have very
serious reasons for this change of front."

"I have been convinced of your innocence," she replied, "by the most
absolute proof." She then recounted to Fandor her discovery of the
chemise belonging to the Marquis de Serac.

"After picking up this chemise I was about to give it over to Mme.
Ceiron, the concierge of the house, when my eyes happened to fall upon
the ruffles on the sleeves. Attached to the right sleeve were some
shreds of lace which seemed to have been torn from a larger piece. I am
a lace maker and I recognized immediately that these pieces came from a
dress I had just delivered to Mlle. Susy d'Orsel a few hours before."

Fandor, who was listening with the closest attention, now asked: "What
do you deduce from that, Mademoiselle?"

"Sire, simply that the person who threw Susy d'Orsel out of the window
was wearing that chemise."

"And," continued the journalist, "as this belonged to the Marquis de
Serac?"

"But it is a woman's chemise."

Fandor quickly realized the importance of this testimony. 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?"

Marie Pascal was growing paler and paler and finally collapsed in his
arms. Gently he placed Marie Pascal on a sofa. For a few moments Fandor
sat there holding her hands. Then she sat up quickly.

"What are you doing?"

Ready to continue what he considered an amusing adventure, he was about
to take her in his arms murmuring, "I love you." But she rose quickly
and fled horror-stricken.

"No, no, it's horrible." She sank down covering her face and crying
hysterically.

Fandor rushed over just in time to hear her murmur, "Alas, and I love
you."

A variety of sentiments and impressions passed through the mind of
Fandor. At first, delighted with the avowal he had heard, he took her,
unresisting, in his arms. Then suddenly he became the victim of a
violent jealousy. For it was not to Fandor she had yielded but to the
King of Hesse-Weimar, Frederick-Christian. She looked so pretty with her
tears and her love that the situation became intolerable to him.

"Sire," w