it, Sire."

"What," inquired Fandor, with somewhat of anxiety.

"The text of the telegram."

Wulf drew out a document and was about to hand it to Fandor, but the
latter stopped him with a gesture.

"Read it to me."

"His Highness, the Minister of the Interior, begs to inform your Majesty
that since his absence a propaganda unfavorable to the throne is being
actively spread in the Court and in the town. The partisans of Prince
Gudulfin believe the occasion favorable to seize the Government."

Fandor pretended anger.

"Ah, it's Prince Gudulfin again!"

"Alas, Sire, it is always the Prince."

Fandor repressed a violent laugh.

"Is that all?"

"No, Sire. His Highness the Minister requested to know, in the name of
the Queen, when your Majesty has the intention of returning to his
Kingdom."

Fandor rose and tapping Wulf amicably on the shoulder replied:

"Tell the Queen that business of the greatest importance keeps me in
Paris, but that before long I hope to return to the Court."

Wulf looked at him without answering, and Fandor added with great
dignity:

"You can go now."

"But I have a formal order not to return to Glotzbourg without your
Majesty, and when your Majesty is ready I am at your orders. Even
to-night."

Then he added in a low tone:

"That would be a pity, for in Paris ..."

Fandor glanced quickly at him. So this fat police officer was like the
rest of the world. He, too, wanted to have his fling in Paris.

At this moment they were interrupted by the arrival of the servant
carrying a tray of cocktails. Fandor turned smilingly to Wulf.

"Have a cocktail, Wulf?"

The officer almost choked with delight. In Hesse-Weimar he would never
have imagined that his King could be so charming and simple in private
life. He made some remark to this effect and the journalist answered:

"Why not, Wulf? Hesse-Weimar and France are two different places ... we
are now in a democracy, let's be democratic." Then clinking his glass
with Wulf's he cried:

"To the health of the Republic!"

Fandor now led the conversation to the charms and seductions of Paris,
and he pictured the delights of the city in such glowing terms that
Wulf's little eyes sparkled and his purple face became even more
congested. He lost his timidity. He expressed a wish to see the
Moulin-Rouge and the Singing Fountains.

"What do you know about them?" inquired Fandor.

"Why, they speak of nothing else in Hesse-Weimar."

"You