"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.