"You forget one man, Monsieur Annion, who knows the King better than either of these. I refer to the head of the Secret Service of Hesse-Weimar ... one of my colleagues. He is at present staying at the Royal Palace and sees the King every day. Consequently it will be scarcely possible to deceive him."

"What is his name?" asked M. Annion.

"It's rather complicated; he calls himself Wulfenmimenglaschk, which we may cut to Wulf for all practical purposes. What should you think of his testimony?"

M. Annion hesitated.

"Of course, if this individual knows the King ..."

"He is attached to the King's person."

"And you are sure he recognized him at the Royal Palace?"

"I'll bring him here and let him speak for himself."

"Well, I'll give you until eleven to-morrow morning to produce this Wulf ... or whatever he calls himself; if then he cannot positively affirm that the King is really the King, you must arrest the impostor immediately. If, on the other hand, he does recognize him, we must refer the matter to the Minister of Foreign Affairs."

"That is understood," replied Juve, and he took his leave.

As Juve found himself again in the Rue de Saussaies his face clouded over.

"Twenty-four hours gained anyway, but I wonder where the devil I can get hold of this Wulf? I might catch him at the Moulin-Rouge ... Fandor sent him there."

Juve drove to the music hall and, showing his card, questioned the officials.

"I'm looking for a fat little man, probably slightly drunk, foreign accent, wears a brown coat, tight trousers, white spats, and is plastered all over with decorations."

"I saw him," cried one of the ushers. "I checked his overcoat and noticed the decorations. He left some time ago."

"Confound it!" muttered Juve. "You don't know why he left so early? The show is only beginning."

The usher smiled.

"Well, he carried a couple of girls away with him. Probably he's in some nearby cafe."

Juve decided to spend the whole night, if necessary, to find Wulf, and began a systematic search through all the cafes of Montmartre.

At length, about three in the morning, he decided to give himself a rest and take a drink. For this purpose he entered a small cafe at the corner of the Rue de Douai and the Rue Victor-Ma.s.se, and ordered a beer.

He put the usual question:

"You don't happen to have seen a fat little man, drunk and profusely decorated?"

The proprietor at once grew excited.

"I should think I have seen him. He came in here asking for some outlandish brand of cigarettes, and ended by taking the cheapest I had, then paid for them with foreign money. And when I refused to take it, he threatened me with some King or other! Aren't we still a republic, I should like to know?"

Evidently, from the description, it could be no other than the peripatetic Wulf.

"Was he alone?" asked Juve.

"Oh, he brought in a little blonde with him, but when she saw his fake money, I guess she gave him the slip, for he turned to the right and she went up the street in the opposite direction."

"The devil!" exclaimed Juve; "the trail is lost again."

A waiter stepped forward.

"I think he went to the Courcelles Station; he asked me where it was."

"The Courcelles Station!"

Juve stood staring in amazement. What on earth could Wulf want to go there for?

"Have you a telephone?" he asked.

"Yes, Monsieur."

With great difficulty Juve succeeded in getting the connection.

"Hullo! Is that your Majesty?"

Fandor's voice replied, laughingly:

"Yes, it's His Majesty all right, but His Majesty doesn't like being wakened up at night. What can I do for you, my dear Juve?"

"Can you tell me where Wulf is?"

"How should I know? Probably with some women, he seems crazy about them."

"No, he hasn't any French money."

"Hold on, Juve; I advised him to take the circular tube as the best method of seeing Paris. I told him to stay on board till he reached the end of the line. Just a little joke of mine."

Fandor burst out laughing, and Juve rang off, angrily.

Once in the street, he stood a moment in doubt as to his next course. If Wulf was really taking a trip in the circular tube, he would be in process of going round and round Paris. How was it possible to overtake him?

Hailing a taxi, he explained to the chauffeur:

"Look here, I want you to take me to the Courcelles Station ... there we must find out in what direction the first train pa.s.ses, either toward Porte Maillot or toward the Avenue de Clichy ..."

The man stared stupidly and Juve found it necessary to explain in a few words the quest he was setting out upon.

"If our man isn't on the first train that pa.s.ses Courcelles, then we must hurry over to the Bois de Boulogne Station, understand?"

Juve had the luck to learn from the ticket seller at Courcelles that she had noticed Wulf, and that he had bought a first-cla.s.s ticket; this limited the search very considerably.