"Now, gentlemen, say, do you recognise this lady?"
The secretaries were perplexed, and denied all knowledge of the new-comer.
"Come, come, gentlemen," said the Emperor jestingly, "tell the truth, for I'll wager that you have often met before, to say nothing of the lively correspondence you have carried on of late."
The secretaries called heaven and earth to witness they had never seen the stranger in their lives before, and had not the slightest idea who she might be.
"This lady is no other than Mr. Mathias Ráby."
At these words, in defiance of all court etiquette, both burst out laughing, and in their merriment the Emperor himself joined heartily.
Only Ráby looked grave, and did not share their amusement. Even now through the paint on his cheeks, the angry colour flamed—a fact which did not escape the Emperor.
"But however did you manage to put on this disguise?" he asked.
"Simply because I heard your Majesty had ordered I should do so," answered Ráby.
"I? Why whatever put such a thing into your head, I should like to know?"