"I'll bet it's him, but how late he is!"
As the sounds drew nearer, she added:
"He must be as drunk as a lord! After all, Kings are no better than other men."
She quickly passed to the outer door and listened.
"Why, it sounds as if there were two of them!"
A key fumbled in the lock, then the owner of it apparently gave up the task as hopeless and began ringing the bell.
Susy opened the door and Frederick-Christian staggered in followed by a man who was a total stranger to her.
The latter, bowing in a correct and respectful manner, carried himself with dignity.
The King bubbled over with laughter and leaned on the shoulder of his lady-love.
"Take off your overcoat," she said, at length, and while he was attempting to obey her, she whispered:
"If your Maj … "
Before she could finish the sentence the King put his hand over her mouth.
"My … my … my dear Susy … I'm very fond of you … but don't begin by saying stupid things. … I am here … incog … incognito. Call me your little Cri-Cri, Susy. … "
"My dear," she replied, "introduce me to your friend."
"Eh," cried the King, "if I'm not forgetting the most elementary obligations of the protocol; but after fourteen whiskeys, and good whiskey, too, though I've better here. … Susy don't drink any, she prefers gooseberry syrup … queer taste, isn't it?"
Susy saw the conversation was getting away from the point, so repeated her request:
"Introduce me to your friend."
Frederick-Christian glanced at his companion and then burst out laughing:
"What is your name, anyway?"
Fandor did not need to ask that question of the King. The moment he had set eyes on him in Raxim's he recognized in the sturdy tippler his Majesty Frederick-Christian II, King of Hesse-Weimar, on one of his periodic sprees. It was this fact which had made him break his rule and indulge freely himself.
With a serious air he explained:
"Sum fides Achates!"
"What's that?" cried the King.
"Exactly."
Susy d'Orsel now thought both men were equally drunk. She fancied they were having fun with her.
"You know I don't want English spoken here," she said drily.
The King took his mistress round the waist and drew her to him.
"Now don't get angry, my dear, it's only our fun, and besides it's not English, it's Latin … bonus … Latinus … ancestribus … the good Latin of our ancestors! … the Latin of the Kitchen! Cuisinus … autobus … understand?"
Turning to the journalist he stretched out his hand:
"Well, my old friend Achates, I'm jolly glad to meet you."
"Achates isn't a real name," cried Susy, still suspicious.
"Achates," explained Fandor, "is an individual belonging to antiquity who became famous in his faithful friendship for his companion and friend, the well-known globe-trotter, Æneas."
"Come and sit down," shouted the King, as he rapped on the table with a bottle of champagne.
"Hurry up, Susy, a plate and glass for my old friend, whose name I don't know … because, you see, he's no more Achates than I am."
"Oh, no, Madame," Fandor hastened to say, "I couldn't think of putting you to the trouble, besides spoiling the effect of your charming table. In fact, I am going home in a few moments."
"Not on your life," shouted the King, "you'll stay to the very end."
"Well, then, a glass of champagne, that's all I'll take."
By degrees Susy had become reassured in regard to the young man. Although slightly drunk, his polite manner and good form pleased her. She took her place on the divan beside the King. Fandor sat opposite them and lighted a cigarette.
Suddenly Susy rose from the table.
"Where are you going?" demanded the King.
"I'll be back in a moment … something must be open. I feel a draught on my legs."
"Why not show us your legs!" cried Frederick-Christian, and turning to the journalist added:
"She's built like a statue … a little marvel."
Susy returned.
"I knew it! The hall door was open. I hope nobody has got in."
The King laughed at the idea.
"If anyone did, let him come and join us, the more the merrier."
"I thought I heard a noise," continued Susy, but the King made her sit down again beside him and the supper went on.
As she drank glass after glass of wine, she became more and more amiable toward Fandor. And since the King paid little attention to her caresses, she began a flirtation with the journalist in order to pique him.
This brought a frown from the royal lover, and Susy amused herself between the two men until supper ended and they all adjourned to her boudoir.
Fandor, who had now become more sober, decided it was time to take his leave.
"Suppose you both come and lunch with me to-morrow, will you?" he asked. To this they agreed and it was finally arranged that Fandor should call and pick them up at one o'clock the following day.
The journalist felt his way downstairs in the semi-darkness and was just about to ask the concièrge to let him out when he was startled by seeing a heavy form fall with a thud onto the ground of the inner court.
With a gasp of alarm the young man rushed forward and quickly realized that he was in the presence of a terrible tragedy.
Lying on the ground, inert, was the body of Susy d'Orsel.
The unfortunate girl had fallen from the third floor.
Without hesitating, he lifted the body and finding no sign of life, cried loudly for help.
But the entire house was asleep.
What was to be done?
Immediate action was necessary. After a moment's pause, he decided to take the unfortunate girl back to her own apartment. Arrived at the door, he found it locked on the inside. After ringing for some time, it was opened finally by the King. At the sight of Susy apparently lifeless, her head hanging backward, the King staggered to the wall.
He wanted to ask a question, but the words stuck in his throat.
Fandor entered the bedroom and laying Susy down attempted to undo her corset.
"Vinegar and some water," he ordered.
The King between his drunkenness and his alarm was quite useless, and the journalist, after applying a mirror to the girl's nostrils and lips, with a gesture of despair exclaimed:
"Good God, she is dead!"
However, being unwilling to risk his own judgment, he started to the door to seek aid.
At this moment a violent knocking began and a voice from the hall cried out:
"What's the matter? Is anyone hurt? I'm the concièrge."
"The concièrge! Then, for Heaven's