he place that
might naturally be occupied by a third guest, and then sat down. This is
what he discovered. It was quite impossible for a woman to have been
sitting there. Having stretched his legs and rested his feet upon the
traces of mud, he discovered that one of the legs of the table came
directly between his knees. A woman's skirt would have made this
position impossible for her.

"Why, the King was telling the truth! There were three persons in this
dining-room a few moments before the crime was committed. And they were
Susy d'Orsel, the King and another man."

Juve now threw himself into an armchair and remained buried in thought.

"To sum it up, the King alone is in a position to give me further
information.... And if he should refuse to speak or should attempt to
lie I have now within my hands the means of forcing him to tell the
truth."

He sprang up quickly.

"The next thing to do is to go and see the King."

CHAPTER X

WULFENMIMENGLASCHK

Wulfenmimenglaschk!

Fandor stared in consternation at the individual who had just entered
the apartment of Frederick-Christian II.

He was enormously fat and absurd looking. A large red nose stood out
between two little blinking eyes; a heavy moustache bushed above his
three well-defined chins. In his hand he held a soft green hat, through
the ribbon of which was stuck a feather. He wore a wide leather belt
containing cartridge cases, and the butts of two revolvers peeped out of
his pockets.

The man began once more.

"Wulfen ..."

Fandor stopped him with a movement of impatience.

"Won't you please speak French, so long as we are in France?"

For the twenty-fifth time this strange individual repeated the phrase
which apparently meant his name and added in French:

"Head of the Secret Service of the Kingdom of Hesse-Weimar and Attache
of your Majesty."

Fandor congratulated himself that the table separated them. He expected
at any moment to be shown up as an impostor. But thinking the best plan
would be to try and bluff it through he said graciously:

"Sit down, Monsieur Wulf."

"But that isn't possible."

"Yes, it is ... take that chair."

"I should never dare to," answered the police officer.

Fandor insisted.

"We desire you."

Wulf bowed to such formal instructions, murmuring:

"I do so at the order of your Majesty."

Fandor sprang up amazed.

"Does he take me for the King too? That can't be possible. The head of
the Secre