Suiting the action to the word, the journalist applied all his force and in a moment the statue parted in two and swung toward him. The hollow interior appeared like a black hole. Bending forward, Fandor cried:
"Sire, Sire, can you hear me?"
His voice came echoing back to him, but there was no reply from the depths.
"Ah, I can't be mistaken!" he cried, desperately. "Wulf heard this fountain singing the national anthem of Hesse-Weimar, the statue is hollow, therefore the King should be hidden in it."
Again he stood, listening. After a pause an exclamation of surprise escaped him.
"Why, it's the same noise I heard in the pipe ... it's a snore ... the unfortunate man is somewhere asleep!"
To call louder would have been dangerous, and besides, quick action was necessary.
"Nothing venture, nothing gain," he whispered, as, revolver in hand, he stepped inside the statue. He slid rapidly down for a distance of six or eight feet and then landed on earth. There he lay for a minute or two, reasoning that if he should be met by a fusillade, he would be safer in that position.
However, complete silence reigned about him, broken only by the steady and distant snoring.
Then, lighting his electric lamp, Fandor began a survey of the premises into which he had so daringly intruded.