Chapter VI: Part 6

"In the spring of 1911 I went to Russia, to spend Easter with Papa. It was while I was there that I received a letter, which I ought to have shown you, from the Grand Duke. He told me that the Kaiser had summoned him to Berlin, and asked him whether he was prepared to use his scientific knowledge in the service of the Empire. Exploration had just proved the existence of immense mineral wealth in the Cameroons. It was necessary to confirm this discovery, and also ascertain as discreetly as possible the mineral resources of the neighbouring territories, so that the question of Germany's interest in annexing them might be considered. I'm sorry to say, my friend, that the territories in question form that part of the Congo which France ceded to Germany by the treaty of 1912.

"So Rudolph was going off to Africa with Boose. With a sorry pretence of indifference he made his excuses for leaving Europe without waiting for my return, pleading the urgency of the imperial orders. He added that if he allowed himself to take such a course, it was only because he was certain that his absence would make no difference to the normal course of my existence. In that my poor friend was woefully wrong.

"Letters from him reached me from Paris, Bordeaux, and Saint-Louis in Senegal. From the Congo itself came the two or three which I have shown you. Then came an interval, rather a long interval, and one day my brother-in-law, Frederick-Augustus, arrived at Lautenburg, bringing the sad news that the Grand Duke had had sunstroke, and died at Sangha, almost at the end of his journey. My name had been the last on his lips.

"Melusine will tell you how I mourned for Rudolph, and not indeed as I should mourn for Taras-Bulba, were he to die tomorrow, for I have never done that horse a wrong. But though I was always frank and loyal to Rudolph, I could not get rid of the feeling that in some way I was to blame for his death.

"As a funeral was impossible, a magnificent service was held in memory of him who rests under the sun-baked clay of Africa. The Emperor and Empress and all the German princes were present. The red Hussars of Lautenburg, with crêpe on their swords, rendered the last honours, and their uniforms during the service made me think sadly of the poor red Hussar of the Peterhof who danced so badly but was so kind.

"Every sentence of my story, my friend, has been a mark of my confidence in you. You shall now have clear proof in every word that follows.

"You know my little orderly officer, Hagen, and have no particular liking for him. I can't say whether devotion or love is his ruling passion. Devotion enables one to repose absolute trust in another, but love makes one alive to another's interests in a way that is impossible for oneself.

"Six months after Rudolph died neither I nor Melusine had the slightest suspicion of what was to follow. I was occupied exclusively with my duties as sovereign and surprised myself with my punctiliousness in carrying them out. I presided at the Diet and council meetings. I signed decrees, summoned the tribunals, appointed officials--to the satisfaction of all concerned, I think. The town of Lautenburg was never more prosperous than under my rule.

"Hagen, on the other hand, was uneasy. I watched him grow more morose every day. After some time, hating the company of a face as long as a fiddle, I called him up and told him to explain himself or go on leave. He fell at my feet.

"'How could I be anything else,' he sobbed, 'when you are going to be another's?'

"He was very much surprised when I told him I didn't know what he meant.

"'How can that be,' he muttered, 'for at Berlin, and even here, they talk of nothing but your approaching marriage to Duke Frederick-Augustus?'

"It was too much this time! The woman I pride myself on being can be married once, by surprise. But twice!

"When Hagen, who was in the habit of going to Berlin several times a month, had told me the story, I realized that something serious was afoot. I had a clearer understanding of affairs next morning, when I received a letter from my father. It was all too plain that he had been carefully coached, taken on his weak side--his desire to see his daughter a queen.

"I hate worrying you with dynastic details, but I must prepare you for what follows. I'll make them as short as possible. Why had I become Grand Duchess of Lautenburg? In order that I might realize Papa's ambition and become Queen of Würtemberg on the death of King Albert. The Lautenburg succession is not subject to the Salic Law, so that I still remained Grand Duchess on Rudolph's death. On the other hand, the succession to the throne of Würtemberg is governed by that law. So we have this situation: only a Grand Duke of Lautenburg can mount the throne of Würtemberg. Therefore, before I could be Queen of Würtemberg I must first marry Duke Frederick-Augustus and thereby make him the Grand Duke of Lautenburg-Detmold.

"The sole object of Papa's letter was to reconcile me to that marriage.

"I'm afraid that in my reply, which was exceedingly prompt, I rather forgot the respect a daughter owes her father, whatever he does.

"But you can realize how exasperated I was. Was I to be forced to marry every German prince in turn? What a prospect for one who had never wanted to marry at all!

"About a week passed, and then I received a letter from the Empress. I've no doubt she called me her 'dear child,' and overwhelmed me with friendly flattery, but there was no mistake about the firm invitation to go to Berlin with which that letter concluded....

"You can imagine that if I submitted it was less from a sense of obedience than from the desire to fathom any plot that was being hatched at Court for my benefit.

"I took Melusine and Hagen with me. The Empress received me with considerable confusion as I had anticipated, and her explanation was characteristic. Need I say what it was?

"'Tis not love that must rule a princess and her fate,
To obey is the glory and end of her state.

"Love! Obey! What was the good of my protesting that her reasoning was false; that I had never loved any one, and that in any case I hadn't married to obey the first time. Poor Rudolph wasn't there to produce our little compact which absolved me from those very obligations. And, anyhow, what was the good of arguing with a worthy dame who was merely repeating her lesson?

"I listened, my lips pressed together, and said nothing. She got thoroughly muddled, and when she had finished I asked:

"'May I ask your Majesty what date has been fixed for my marriage with the Grand Duke Frederick-Augustus?'

"She protested that the Kaiser had never had any idea of precipitating matters, and that no date had been settled.

"'Only the principle!' I said.

"She didn't answer.

"I went back to my room, calm and collected.

"'I leave tonight for Astrakhan,' I said to Melusine and Hagen, who were anxiously awaiting my return. 'Have my things packed. Those who love me can follow me.'

"Hagen gave me my letters, which had been sent on from Lautenburg. There were five or six, and one had a Russian stamp. I recognized Papa's writing.

"What excellent use they had made of the fact that I had been unsuspecting! I found out later that the letter I had written to him a fortnight earlier had been forestalled by a special envoy from the Kaiser. It hadn't taken much diplomacy to win over my father. The famous crown of Würtemberg had once more played its part. Gently but firmly he told me his wishes. 'Marry Frederick-Augustus, or ...'

"I didn't read on but tore up the letter into little pieces. Then and there I wrote out a telegram--some thirty words of passionate pleading and threats--to the Tumene Prince.

"You remember, Melusine, how we suspected postal censorship at Berlin, and how you took the train and sent off the telegram from Köpenick.

"When you had gone my feelings overcame me, and I burst into tears--tears of rage and hatred. I can still see myself in that awful Berlin room. Hagen was sobbing at my feet. He had taken my hands, and even my arms--this is absolutely true--and was covering them with tears and kisses. 'I will go with you, I shall follow you, where and when you will,' he murmured. When all's said and done I am proud to think that it only wanted a word from me to make a Prussian officer throw up his profession and abjure his native land.

"But the touch of that moustache on my arm quickly brought me back to a sense of reality. I remembered Louisa of Saxony and all the low lackeys who have made money out of their notoriety as the lovers of queens. I pushed the innocent Hagen away and recovered my self-possession.

"I didn't go out at all during the two days while I was waiting for the reply to my telegram. Then it came, the little blue slip. You were looking hard at me, Melusine, so I smiled as I opened it. It contained these simple words:

"'I will never see my daughter until she has done her duty.'

"What a heart of flint the old Kalmuck had!

"I read it and fell to the floor like a stone.

* * * * * *

"I'm afraid I most stop to explain matters at this point, _ami_, or you may find the rest incomprehensible. No doubt you are asking yourself: 'How it could ever have come about that a will like Aurora's could have yielded? What could this invisible and powerful Frederick-Augustus have done to get the Empress, Rudolph's godmother, and the Kaiser on his side?'

"I expect you read your foreign news carefully enough in 1909 to know that about that time the Eulenburg affair and a Moltke-Harden case were causing a considerable stir in German Court circles. Personally, the way these folk took their pleasures was a matter of indifference to me. What strikes me as monstrous is the fact that these scandals had a considerable effect on my fortunes.

"Frederick-Augustus seldom stayed at Lautenburg in his brother's lifetime. I only saw him three or four times, the first occasion being my wedding, and the second, six months later, the funeral of his wife, a worthy but stupid woman with wrists like a scullery-maid's. His Serene Highness your pupil is hardly more intelligent than she.

"The rest of his time was spent in Berlin. The man you have seen so reserved and formal led a very gay life there. Never believe those who tell you that profligacy is harmful _ami_. The rise of Frederick-Augustus is proof to the contrary.

"The one thing in which the present Grand Duke is past-master is the art of compromising others without compromising himself. He made ample use of it at Berlin in 1909. Intimate with the Bülows, and a bosom friend of Eitel and Joachim, he alone could tell you the scenes in which he figured at that time. But he will never tell you, _ami_, just as he has never told me, as neither you nor I will ever be able to pay the price of his confidences. Why, it was his silence alone that gained him the grand-ducal crown, and may one day bring him the throne of Würtemberg. When the Empress, with quivering voice, was preaching the virtue of submission to my destiny, the honest dame was only defending the honour of two of her sons.

"The brain fever that followed the receipt of my father's telegram lasted a month, during which I hung between life and death, while Melusine and Hagen, with a devotion I shall never forget, took turns in nursing me night and day.

"At length I was convalescent. My hair had been cut off. I was thin but still pretty. One day, while I was studying in my mirror the pathetic figure I looked with the little fair curls clustering on my head, Hagen, who was on orderly duty, came in and announced Duke Frederick-Augustus.

"I was still really too ill to receive him, but I was longing for the encounter. I must confess, to my shame, that I didn't come out on top that day.

"He came in and bowed ceremoniously. His blue eyes, in his pale, smooth face, were bright and dim by turns.

"'My dear sister, what a pleasure to find you up at last, and looking so well.'

"His perfect ease of manner froze me. He went on:

"'There is no point in not telling you at once the pleasant object of my visit. Tomorrow it will be nine months since the death of my regretted brother, the Grand Duke Rudolph. As the legal period of your widowhood then expires their Majesties the Emperor and Empress would be glad if you could see your way to fix a convenient date for the celebration of our marriage. They have expressed their intention of being present.'

"'Tell their Majesties, my dear brother,' I replied, 'that I will fix any date that suits their pleasure, and kindly add that I hope it will be the last time I shall give them this trouble.'

"He bowed gravely.

"'That is also my heart-felt desire, dear sister,' he said.

"And he went out.

"We were married one day in March, 1912, a dull, threatening day. The Emperor and Empress, true to their promise, were present at the religious ceremony and left for Berlin in the evening. About five o'clock, first at the Rathaus and then at the castle, the State authorities and magistrates took the oath of fealty to the new Grand Duke. At eight the superior officers and higher dignitaries of the Grand Duchy, some thirty guests, were present at a dinner, informal on account of our recent mourning, in the banqueting-hall on the ground floor.

"The second course had hardly begun when the sound of tapping, now loud, now soft, was heard coming from the first floor, immediately above our heads.

"At first no notice was taken. But the noise continued, tap, tap, tap, with exasperating regularity.

"The Grand Duke, frowning slightly, beckoned to the lackey standing behind him.

"'What's that noise?' he asked in a low tone. 'Go and stop it.'

"The man had not returned in a quarter of an hour, but the noise did not cease.

"'Here, Kessel,' cried the Grand Duke, half annoyed, half amused, 'try and find out what's going on above our heads. Excuse me, gentlemen,' he said, turning to our guests.

"Kessel went. Five minutes later he came back, very red. The noise had stopped.

"'Well!' said the Grand Duke, what was it?'

"Kessel was still silent.

"'Look here, Major,' Frederick went on, beginning to lose patience. 'You can't have discovered a plot up there, I presume. I must ask you to reassure my guests. What was the matter?'

"'Builders, your Highness,' murmured Kessel.

"'Builders! at this hour! Today of all days! That's too much of a good thing. What on earth are they doing? Come, Herr von Kessel, tell me, please!'

"'They are walling up the yellow corridor,' the officer managed to get out.

"There was a frigid silence. The yellow corridor was that which connected the apartments of the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Lautenburg.

"Frederick-Augustus is a man of resource, _ami_. I realized it that evening and genuinely admired him when, tapping his forehead significantly, as much as to say, 'Of course! I'd forgotten,' he turned to a steward and said:

"'Just see that those good fellows are well looked after. They'll have to work all night.'

"I didn't mind. You see I was pleased with myself, for I felt there was something of admiration in the sly look he gave me, a look that seemed to say:

"'And now, you and I must have it out.'"

Aurora had stopped. For a few minutes silence reigned. Then Melusine went to the window and swiftly drew back the curtains. We saw it was already light.

I looked at the Grand Duchess, lost in reverie, elbow on knee and chin in hand. Her beautiful features and clear skin betrayed not the slightest sign of her night-long vigil.

The chilly dawn found Aurora even more beautiful than the glowing dusk had left her.

VII

OCCASIONALLY, perhaps once or twice a week, the Grand Duchess preferred to be alone, and on these evenings I used to resign myself to work.

My study of the Königsmark had been virtually abandoned. I no longer found much pleasure in disturbing that ancient dust now that fate had summoned me to witness another drama, the actors in which lived and moved around me, and spoke to me every day.

There had been a great storm on a certain July evening which Aurora's pleasure doomed me to spend alone. Through the window, open to the lowering night sky, I heard the trees dripping. I was working in an extremely half-hearted manner, my mind straying from the tragedy of the _Herrenhausen_ to the lands whither the Tumene princess's story had wafted me. Indeed, it was a piece of pure luck that thrust before my eyes the supremely important document of which I must now speak.

I told you some time back, with details which must have seemed tedious, of the dossier compiled by the Queen of Prussia with a view to the rehabilitation of her mother Sophie-Dorothea. That evening, after analysing two or three documents of secondary importance, I came to another, marked S.2--No. 87.

It consisted of two large pages covered with writing in German characters, crowded closely together. My listlessness vanished after the first few lines. My mind sprang to attention, for I realized that I had at last got hold of something decisive.

This document contained the confession of a certain Bauer, who had died a game-keeper in the service of the Grand Duke of Rudolstadt, and who, twenty years earlier, had been employed at the _Herrenhausen_. In his last moments this man, a Catholic, had asked a priest to confess him. The latter, who had heard of the Queen of Prussia's investigation, made his absolution subject to a formal statement of the events in which Bauer had taken part. It was that very confession, bearing the signatures of the dying man, the confessor and two witnesses, that I was engaged in examining.

You will understand that, with that proof of authenticity before me, it chained my attention.

Bauer had been one of the ten men who assisted Countess von Platen to assassinate Count Königsmark on the tragic night of July 1st, 1694.

His confession related how Countess von Platen prepared punch for her men while they were waiting for the Count to come out of the Princess's apartments.

He denies being among those who actually attacked him with their swords and daggers, but admits that he held him down while Countess von Platen, with her foot on his head, tried to extort a confession from him that he had been Sophie-Dorothea's lover.

I was familiar with most of these details. They can also be found in Blaze de Bury's book. But the statements following definitely settled the famous controversy as to what happened to the Count's corpse.

When Count Königsmark was quite dead, said Bauer, Countess von Platen ordered us to carry him to the great fireplace at the back of which is a bronze plaque six feet wide. Countess von Platen touched a spring. The plaque divided in two, revealing a little chamber. I just caught a glimpse, for I was very much perturbed in mind, of a whitish heap which looked like lime. We laid the corpse down there. Countess von Platen then sent us away, after telling us to wash off the blood which had stained the clothes of some of the men. She remained in the Baron's Hall with her attendant, a certain Festmann....

You see now that I had my reasons when I told you, casually, that Königsmark's corpse is concealed behind the fire-back in the Knight's Hall of the _Herrenhausen_. Moreover, Bauer's document had, in my eyes, a further importance beyond settling the spot once and for all. To me it was also a proof of the complicity either of Ernest-Augustus or his son. Remember that Countess von Platen had worked a secret spring, and also bear in mind that German princes in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were exceedingly jealous of their secret lock-systems. If that secret was communicated to Madame von Platen it was only for some vital purpose.

Before starting work I had made some coffee and had three cups, one after the other. This coffee began to have its effect, by which I mean that, excited by my first discovery, my mind was absolutely clear at that moment. Please note this detail as it has its importance.

To discover something is nothing. To establish the truth of your discovery is everything. Now how was I to go to Hanover, obtain permission to visit the _Herrenhausen_ and be alone in the Knight's Hall for the necessary time. You can imagine I had no intention of putting some palace curator on the track I had just found.

It was then that an idea occurred to me which I will disclose to you as a proof of the value of coffee in deductive reasoning. You will remember that when I was studying the question of the employment of French artists by German princes in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries I discovered that the locksmith's work had been given by the Elector Ernest-Augustus of Hanover to a Catalan named Giroud who had also worked for the Grand Duke of Lautenburg. This Giroud had even had difficulties with Ernest-Augustus over his accounts. At that time I had only cast a cursory glance at the file dealing with the case. It was necessary for me to examine it more carefully. Perhaps I should be able to find something about the system of secret springs installed by Giroud at the _Herrenhausen_. I decided to clear the matter up then and there.

It was just after midnight I put an electric torch in my pocket and quietly left my room. At that moment I thought I heard a faint noise in the deserted corridor.

"Come," I thought, "I can't let myself be scared like this by old papers!"

When I got to the library I was disagreeably surprised to find the lights on. Professor Cyrus Beck was hard at work covering a black board with his formulæ and only stopping to consult five or six treatises open in front of him.

There was, of course, nothing unusual about my appearance there. I had often gone down late at night to the library to clear up some point in my next day's lesson. All the same he looked at me with that suspicious air of the savant who always thinks you're going to rob him of something.

Two or three pleasant words quickly reassured him. He condescended to confide to me that he was at a decisive moment in his experiments and that the next day, without doubt, perhaps that very night.... Through the open door came the noise of his furnaces, roaring like chimneys on fire.

I thought it unwise to tell him that I, too, had reached the same stage as himself in another affair. Besides, almost at once he put away his books, folded up his notes, rubbed out his formulæ, wished me good-night and went.

I was eager for his departure as I had already found what I wanted.

With a sureness of method which astonished me I had put my hand straight off on the vital document, a bill of Giroud's, dated 1682, and addressed to Ernest-Augustus.

It was a long bill, but I found the following item at once:

For the chimney-place of the Baron's Hall, six springs, in my name, at one hundred and fifty livres the spring.--Total 900 livres.

I did not need to have a very profound knowledge of secret springs and locks to know what it meant. The system is still used in safes, Fichet's and others. It meant that on the fire-back of the chimney-place in the Baron's Hall of the _Herrenhausen_ there were six lettered locks. You made the spring act by taking for each lock in turn one of the six letters forming the name of the inventor, Giroud.

When you remember that this Giroud was the master-locksmith of the Grand Duke of Lautenburg you won't have much difficulty in realizing that my first thought was to use the fire-back in the armoury of the castle of Lautenburg as a test of the accuracy of my reasoning with regard to the fireplace of the Baron's Hall in the Castle of Hanover. So you may imagine how impatiently I watched Cyrus Beck's departure.

When at last he had gone I waited a quarter of an hour. Then I turned out the lights, opened the right-hand door of the library and banged it to as if I had gone back to my room. Then, taking great care not to fall over anything and picking my way among the desks and show-cases I returned and cautiously opened the door on the left hand side which led into the armoury.

Great pools of moonlight, shaped like the tall lancet windows, flecked the dark floor. I went straight to the chimney-place. I started at touching the heavy iron fire-back. It was only when my fingers found a kind of knob high up on the left that I switched on my electric torch.

I had no difficulty in dealing with the knob. It pivoted on a hinge, revealing a kind of dial. The whole thing was not unlike one of our gas-metres.

I started back in dismay. I was expecting letters, but this dial had numbers. It was divided into twenty-five sections.

Turning off the lamp I sat down on a heavy oak stool close by.

I didn't have to think long. 25! What a fool I was!

I pulled out a pencil and a piece of paper, turned on the lamp again and, kneeling at the stool, I had soon written out the twenty-five letters of the alphabet and underneath a row of figures to correspond. Then I wrote Giroud's name and obtained the following combination: 7, 9, 18, 15, 21, 4.

791815214. It will be a long time before I forget that number.

I examined the whole face of the metal rectangle with my lamp. A terrible disappointment was in store for me. Instead of the six knobs that I had _expected_ I could only find two.

When a single factor throws out the kind of calculations I had just made it can only mean that one's theory is radically false. I might have known. That would have been much too simple....

Solely to prove myself wrong, I tried the first knob and turning the pointer on the dial I set it on the figure 7--g.

I crossed to the other side and repeated the operation on the other knob, putting the pointer on the figure 9--i.

All at once I could hear my heart beat. A black vertical line appeared in the centre of the plaque. That line got wider and wider. The two panels thus formed slid back to each side, leaving a gap some two feet six inches wide.

I was on the right track. The mystery of the _Herrenhausen_ was to be solved at last!

I had recovered control of myself, perfect control. I remember saying: "What a delightful way of studying history! I wonder what Monsieur Seignobos would think of it?"

I passed through the opening, taking with me the stool which had been my table. On the inside the fire-back had two handles, one on each side. Very gently, but quite easily, I drew the panels together again, not absolutely touching, however, for fear of releasing some fatal spring.

Do you remember the 24th August, my friend, in the village of Beaumont, in Belgium, when you and I went down into a cellar where the inhabitants said five Uhlans were hiding? You called me a rash fool and came behind, but I couldn't help smiling at the thought that those five fugitives were nothing compared with the darkness in which I was wrapped that night.

When I had pulled the two panels to behind me I found myself in a little chamber, six feet wide, and six feet high. On each side of me were blank walls, but at the back was another bronze plaque with, as I expected, two more knobs to right and left.

I put the hand of the first dial on the figure 18. The pointer of the second had just reached 15 when the noise of tearing wood, absolutely terrifying in that dead silence, froze me from head to foot. The lower half of the immense plaque, opening horizontally about three feet from the ground, had swung forward and smashed to matchwood the heavy stool I had placed against it as I came in.

If I hadn't jumped back so smartly my feet would infallibly have been crushed.

"Excellent!" I murmured. "So their secrets are man-traps, too!"

I bent down and got into the second chamber, which was of exactly the same dimensions as the first. You can imagine that this time I took all precautions, standing carefully to the left as I put the pointer of the fifth dial on 21 and to the right as I turned that of the sixth to 4. I might have saved myself the trouble. The plaque parted in two vertically, like the first one, and the panels rolled aside on invisible hinges.

Then I passed into the third and last chamber.

It was of the same height, but twice as long and wide. The small arc of my electric torch gave a good light, but covered but a small area.

At first I could only see what looked like white splashes on the floor.

But suddenly, my friend, my very marrow froze within me. I was frightened, horribly frightened, for in the corner to my left a curious little white heap had just come into view. Drawn by some over-mastering instinct I approached it, and even as I approached I wanted to bolt, and between my chattering teeth I muttered: "It's a hallucination. I'm dreaming. I _know_ I'm dreaming. I'm not at Hanover. This is Lautenburg. The palace. There's Doctor Cyrus Beck just round the corner working. There's the night-watchman. There's Ludwig, my servant. There's Major von Kessel, honest, kind Kessel ..."

The heap of quicklime was now at my feet. I fell, rather than knelt, before it.

Fantastic fragments were sticking out of it, shapeless, gruesome white fragments. Dithering as I was, how did I ever have the courage to pick one up, run my fingers over it, examine it....

Yet that is exactly what I did. I had that bone, a right tibia, in my hands, feeling it, examining it.

And then I uttered a loud cry, for in the middle of that bone my finger came into contact with the mark of an old fracture.

* * * * * *

How I managed to give Duke Joachim his history lesson next morning is a thing I've never ceased to wonder at. I kept my eyes off the mirror, terrified lest I should see a ghastly face reflected in it.

At eleven o'clock I was in the Archduchess's small boudoir.

The old Russian waiting-woman went off to tell Melusine, who came at once. I could see from the half-humorous surprise in her manner that my call, at that hour, was considered extremely strange.

"You want to see the Grand Duchess, my friend! You are very bold. Well, as it's you... I'm sure you wouldn't have come without some very good ..."

As she spoke she drew aside the curtains. The sun shone full on my face. She started at my appearance, and with difficulty suppressed an exclamation.

"I'll go and fetch her," she said simply.

I seemed to have been walking in my sleep, pushed on by the force of the night's events. Left to myself my decision seemed utterly crazy. Why, in a minute's time I should certainly be taken for the madman I had brought myself to believe I was. How would Aurora take the story of my extraordinary adventure? "Save her from the fits of depression and that kind of spiritual disorder which are so fatal to her physical health." The words came back to me. It was the request made to me by the Grand Duke Frederick-Augustus. _This_ was an odd way of carrying out his wishes. I wanted to bolt.

But the Grand Duchess was already there. She was in such high spirits that morning that I thought I should never have the strength of mind to break my news to her.

"Well, my friend," she said. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Have you changed your time-table? Have you decided to give me your mornings in future?"

My tell-tale face produced the same effect on her as on Melusine.

She took my arm and made me sit down on a sofa beside her.

"You nearly fell as you sat down," she said gravely. "Melusine, bring me the blue casket."

It was a diminutive box in blue enamel. What heathen stimulant could it contain? As soon as I had inhaled it at Aurora's bidding, I started as if I'd had an electric shock.

"There!" she said, "you're better already." And added:

"Begin as soon as you feel you can. We're listening."

I told her everything you already know, from my first researches into the Königsmark drama to the final climax, my visit to the secret chamber in the armoury and my sinister discovery.

From beginning to end she listened, calm and self-possessed, only occasionally exchanging with Melusine a glance which revealed astonishment rather than emotion.

When I had finished she did not speak for a moment, and then said quietly:

"You have told us an extraordinary exciting story, but you mustn't be surprised to hear that it does not arouse any other emotion in me. There's one thing I admit, which comes as rather a shock: the fact that at Lautenburg you have found a skeleton in the very same place where there must be one in the palace of Hanover. But what does it prove, granting that natural death is out of the question, but that the old Dukes of Lautenburg had no greater respect for human life than their Hanoverian neighbours? I have always thought so, and it's no great surprise."

"But it isn't the presence of the skeleton which has been such a shock, madame," I answered.

"What is it, then?" she said, in that slightly scornful tone she immediately assumed when she thought you were trying to mystify her.

"It is," I said simply, but picking my words carefully, "that I had in my hands the right tibia of the corpse which was concealed there, and that in the middle of that tibia, on its outer surface, was the join of an old fracture."

Aurora was standing now. She was pressing her hands to her temples. She had turned deadly pale. Her staring eyes grew bigger and bigger.

"You're mad! You're mad!" she screamed. "Melusine, tell him he's mad!"

Fräulein von Graffenfried rushed to the Grand Duchess, who had fallen back, rigid, on the sofa. Her eyelids were half closed. I read inexpressible terror in the look she gave me.

"Mad! Mad!" she screamed again. "He's at Sangha. I have his letters. Sangha!"

"At Sangha! At Sangha!" the heartrending voice rang out again.

"I've only done what I thought was my duty," I murmured to Melusine, helping her to get her mistress to inhale the little blue casket.

The kind creature gave me a look charged with meaning, as much as to say: "I know it, you've no need to apologize."

"Don't be alarmed," she said in an undertone. "Her brain fever has left her extremely sensitive. And you must admit there's good reason on this occasion. Look, she's coming round."

Aurora was opening her startled eyes. She saw us two bending over her and memory came back. There must have been an expression of terrible concern in our faces, for she smiled and held out a hand which I covered with kisses.

"Forgive me, children, for giving you such a fright. Good Melusine, always at her post when she's wanted! And you, dear friend, my thanks."

"You are not angry with me?" I pleaded.

She smiled and shook her head, giving me for answer the Russian saying:

"_Do the rooks hate the sun for showing up the sportsman's gun?_"

She added:

"Melusine, go and tell them that he'll stay to lunch."

To be present at Aurora's table was a signal honour. Melusine alone had been thought worthy of it hitherto. It was not long before I learnt to my cost how great the honour was. Meanwhile I only saw in it further proof of the importance of my revelation.

One would have expected the meal to suffer from the effects of recent events. It did not suffer in the least, and though Aurora's spirits seemed a little forced, she was gay throughout. She talked about other things the whole time. I admired her self-possession all the more, because my secret was enough to have destroyed it altogether. In that hour, big with the burden of coming events, I knew the joy of realizing how indispensable I had become to the haughty princess, who had seemed to ignore my very existence only five short months before.

When the coffee came Melusine rose.

"Where are you going?" the Grand Duchess inquired.

"To say that you won't be going calling this afternoon," she replied.

"Shan't I?" said Aurora, smiling. "I'm not so overcome as all that. Just go and say that the car is to be ready at four instead of five."

"Four?"

"Yes. I want a few hours' rest before coming to fetch you at midnight," she said, turning to me.

Melusine and I stared at her.

"Does that surprise you?" she continued. "Do you call what you have just told me important or not? Now this is what _I_ think. One person can suffer from a delusion. It's highly improbable that two will. At midnight, my friend, I shall knock at your door. Then you will have an opportunity of proving your knowledge of secret springs. You understand, now? Now, Melusine, go and order the car for four o'clock. I've twice postponed my call on the good Burgomaster's wife, and I mustn't break my word a third time."

There was so much authority in this order that Melusine went, casting a long, imploring glance in my direction.

"Poor little girl," said the Grand Duchess. "That look gives me into your care. Midnight, you understand, without fail."

"Madame," I said firmly, "I'll do anything your Highness wishes. I understand your resolution. Indeed, I can only approve it. May I just make two remarks? First, that it would be much better for me to come and fetch you rather than that you should run the risk of meeting some one in the corridors of the castle. In the second place, you should know that the watch make their rounds at midnight. They may be a little early tonight, and it is most advisable to avoid any chance of being disturbed in so delicate an enterprise as ours."

"Very well," she said. "What then?"

"With your permission I'll be here at half-past ten. An hour will give us plenty of time. Fräulein von Graffenfried can stay in your apartments and receive any callers."

She smiled:

"If by that you mean Hagen, jealous young man, you may as well know that he's due at his mess tonight, for one of those drinking-bouts for which any good German would gladly sacrifice the Loreley."

"Hagen or another," I said, with a shade of irritation in my voice. "We must provide for all emergencies."

"You're right, dear friend," she said gravely. "Then I'll expect you at half-past ten."

* * * * * *

When I went back to my room after dinner I really thought the time to go and fetch the Grand Duchess would never come.

At length ten o'clock struck, then quarter past. I went out quietly and peeped through the library door. Good. There was no light. If Cyrus Beck had unfortunately taken it into his head to work there that night we should have had to begin all over again.

Half-past struck, but it took me barely two minutes to cut across the garden. I wasn't late.

Very quietly I opened the door leading into the park. A puff of fresh air braced me up.

As I was closing it again I started. A hand had just been placed on my shoulder. At that moment I heard a voice:

"Professor Vignerte, I'm delighted to meet you!"

It was Lieutenant von Hagen.

The night was pitch-black, and we could not see each other. But I thought I detected that the hand he had put on my shoulder was a little unsteady. In an instant I recovered all my self-control.

"I thought you were at your mess," I said.

"I'm supposed to be," he replied. "But we all change our minds sometimes. What about yourself? No doubt you intended to spend the evening working in your room. Yet here you are."

"It's so stifling tonight," I said, "that I came into the garden for a breath of air."

"In that case I don't suppose you'll mind having my company for your walk."

This time I detected so much impertinent irony in his tone, that I saw it was a case of putting all my cards on the table.

"I'm very much flattered by your attentions, Herr Lieutenant, but I won't pretend that I wouldn't rather be alone."

He giggled. "_Quite_ alone?" he demanded.

A quarter to eleven had just struck. The sound made me furious. Was this imbecile to wreck all our plans?

"What do you mean?" I asked angrily.

I realized his idea was to make me lose my self-control.

"Herr Professor," he said, "in Germany we hold one thing very sacred. Our word of honour. I like to think that it's the same in France. I won't trouble you any further if, here and now, you will give me your word of honour that you have no appointment this evening with the Grand Duchess Aurora."

I started. How much did this man know of what had happened? Once more I restrained myself.

"Herr von Hagen, one of your novelists, Beyerlein, has written a very bad book, 'The Retreat.' You and I are about to repeat the most absurd scene in that book, with the difference that it does not concern the daughter of a quartermaster-sergeant, but your sovereign, the Grand Duchess of Lautenburg-Detmold. I'm surprised...."

"I know," he said in a hoarse voice. "And that's just why I intend ..."

"What do you intend? Tell me. Let's have it out!"

"To kill you, Herr Professor."

"And why, if you please?"

"Because you love her and because ..."

The red Hussar choked down a sob. His hand, on my arm, trembled violently.

"Because?"

"Because she loves you."

I almost pitied him at that moment. But the Grand Duchess was waiting for me in her room.

"I'm at your service, sir," I said. "Tomorrow, or any day you like."

"Tomorrow," he replied bitterly. "Do you think I'm going to give you a chance of seeing her? She's waiting for you, I know. You haven't given me your answer. I must have it now, sir. At once."

This was too much. I wrenched my arm away and thrust him aside with great violence. He crashed into the wall.

He drew his sword.

I felt quite equal to snatching it from his hand and turning it against him then and there. But I ran the risk of being wounded, and, besides, there would be a commotion, a scene. That must at all costs be avoided.

"Herr von Hagen," I said in low tones, "listen to me. I know you wouldn't be talking like this or trying to pick a quarrel, if you didn't love the Grand. Duchess yourself."

"Sir," he replied, furious, "I forbid you ..."

"Just listen to me," I said, and there was a ring of impatient authority in my voice which impressed him. "You love her, I repeat. I'm going now to appeal as much to your love as to your loyalty as a soldier. The Grand Duchess Aurora, that glorious woman, is in terrible danger tonight. You must understand that. Every minute, every second, that you make me lose increases that danger. On that I can give you my word of honour here and now."

I saw that I had hit home.

"What do you mean, sir?" he murmured in alarm. "Danger?"

"Yes, Herr von Hagen. Go back to your rooms at once. Don't go to bed. Perhaps Aurora of Lautenburg will need your help tonight."

He hesitated, then resigned himself to his lot.

"Very well, sir. I accept. I'll go back. But remember that if you've deceived me ..."

"You need have no fear of that," I replied. "You must understand that the little meeting you suggested just now must be postponed till tomorrow morning if you like. I'm just as anxious for it as yourself."

"Until tomorrow, then," he said, smiling. "What time?"

"Six o'clock. At the Meilleraie bridge. It's a secluded spot and the Melna is handy."

"What about weapons?"

"You can choose," I said. "I leave it entirely to you."

"By ourselves, of course," we said in the same breath.

He stood to attention, gave me a military salute, and vanished in the darkness.

"At last!" I murmured, with a sigh of relief. Eleven o'clock was striking as I entered the Grand Duchess's apartments.

* * * * * *

She was alone in her boudoir, standing, rather pale.

As I entered, my expression must have told her that something unusual had happened, for she asked no questions as to why I was late.

"Anything serious?" she asked simply.

"Nothing, madame. But we must be quick. We've only just time."

As we reached the door leading to the staircase the door of Melusine's room opened and Fräulein von Graffenfried appeared.

"What!" she said. "So soon?"

"Yes," said Aurora. "I forgot to tell you we decided to make it an hour earlier. Don't be alarmed, dear. Stay here and don't let any one in. We shall be back before midnight."

She kissed her on the forehead.

Torn with apprehension, and her beautiful eyes full of tears, Melusine von Graffenfried had seized my hands.

"Swear to me no harm shall come to her," she begged. "I commit her to your care."

"Come, come," said Aurora. "We've no time to lose. Turn out the light on the staircase."

We went down into the darkness.

When we got to the landing, I felt the pressure of the Grand Duchess's hand on my arm. She wasn't trembling, I can assure you.

"Are you armed?" she said.

"No."

"Child!" she murmured, and even as she spoke I could feel her hand slipping something into the pocket of my jacket.

"It's a Browning, a good one. Don't hesitate to use it if the occasion arises, against any one. I'll set you the example myself."

We were now at the bottom of the staircase. She was leading, and it was she who opened the door.

"Well?" I said.

She had stopped, blocking the doorway. A dull cry escaped her.

"Didn't I tell you so! Oh, didn't I tell you so! He's a strong man, a very strong man!"

"What is it?" I asked in terror.

To our right a huge red glare lit up the night sky. Half the castle was on fire.

Against that background of flame the yews of the park stood out like black cones. The water in the Persephone fountain gleamed black and red.

"But who could have told him that we should come tonight?" said the Grand Duchess. "Only three of us knew: I, you and ... _she_."

For a few seconds we gazed at the tragic scene. Then noises began to be heard in the palace, startled from its first sleep.

"Come," said Aurora, "let's go and see."

As we approached we ran into Hagen. He was flying down the steps of the right wing like a maniac.

"You! You!" he almost screamed with joy on recognizing the Grand Duchess. "I was terrified! I _am_ so thankful."

He kissed her hands frantically.

"Forgive me, forgive me!" he stammered, turning to me.

"Stay here with her," I said, and, running off, I made for the banqueting-hall at top speed.

"Where's he going?" cried Aurora. "Stop him!"

But I was already too far. Crossing the banqueting-hall, I got into the right wing of the castle. It was the left which was on fire, with the library, and, of course, the armoury.

What was I thinking of? I had no very clear idea myself. Some force, with which argument was useless, was urging me on. Some time later I tried to reason out my action. In my room was my money, papers, a few letters from my mother--my whole life, so to speak. Yet I'm certain that not for one moment did I think that I was running such risks for things like these.

Dense clouds of smoke shot with sparks were pouring out of the first-floor corridor, at the end of which was the door of my room.

I met Kessel coming down. I heard him shout:

"Where are you going? The stairs are in flames. The corridor's burning!"

But I'd already left him far behind. I took off my jacket and wrapped it round my head. I don't know how I managed to get to the door of my room. I only remember that when I touched the handle I burnt my fingers.

Try as I might, I couldn't get the door open. The key turned in the lock as usual, but the door resisted.

It was then that I noticed a stout iron bolt, screwed into the door at one end and clamped to the wall at the other.

"So that's it!" I said, "and my window looks on to the ravine of the Melna!"

I didn't even start I understood. I knew what I wanted.

"So you thought, sire, that I should be still in my room! Didn't you, now?"

To come and go was but the work of a minute. When I was at the bottom of the staircase a fearful crash was heard. The upper half of the whole corridor had just collapsed.

When, wild-eyed and scorched, I got back to the Grand Duchess, several groups had already collected in the park. A tall man was standing with her and Hagen. It was the Grand Duke.

"Monsieur Vignerte," he cried rapturously, when he saw me. "Oh, what a weight you've taken off my mind! Have you come from far?"

"Yes, indeed, sir, very far!" I replied, and nearly fell.

"Hold him!" cried Aurora to Hagen.

The little red Hussar obeyed.

"Look out!" the Grand Duke broke in suddenly. "That's exactly what I feared."

Catching hold of his wife, he had suddenly jumped back a dozen yards or so. We all followed suit, stupefied.

An enormous flame, purple and gold, shot up into the glowing sky, followed by an appalling explosion. We saw the walls of the castle part asunder, totter and then collapse with a crash. A shower of fragments of every kind, wood and plaster, tiles and sparks fell on and around us. Beside us Captain Müller, who had gone forward, was hit by something. We saw him fall to the ground, with his head bleeding.

Professor Cyrus Beck's laboratory had just blown up.

The firemen turned up almost immediately and set to work to localize the fire. In the Great Court behind we could hear the measured, muffled sound of the garrison troops coming up at the double.

By one o'clock the fire had been got under. At half-past they were bringing out the first corpses.

About two the first streaks of gold appeared in the sky and a serene dawn shone forth.

Just then a stretcher, borne by four soldiers, came past us. We recognized the body of the professor, terribly mangled.

The Grand Duke bent over it and took a long look. Then, throwing back the cloth over the horrid vision, he murmured:

"This was bound to happen sooner or later, with an old fool like that."

Such was the funeral oration of Herr Professor Cyrus Beck, of Kiel University.

* * * * * *

The Grand Duchess, Melusine and I went back to the left wing of the palace. It was about six o'clock. The day already promised to be very hot, for the summer sun rose red over the awful scene of desolation.

Melusine had joined us when the fire first began. She had spent the time helping the Grand Duchess to attend to the injured firemen and soldiers, who had been taken to the banqueting-hall.