"I ... I don't understand."
"Yes," insisted Fandor, "your Majesty does understand. You know that I am aware in whose presence I am standing. You are Frederick-Christian II, King of Hesse-Weimar... and I, your Majesty, am Jerome Fandor, reporter on La Capitale ... a journalist."
The King did not appear to attach much importance to Fandor's words. Peaceably, without haste, he put on his overcoat and hat. Then, picking up his cane, he moved toward the door.
"Here! what are you doing?"
"I'm going."
"You can't."
"Yes, I can; it's all right, don't worry, I'll arrange matters."
The King appeared so calmly confident that Fandor stood dumbfounded.
Here certainly was an individual out of the common! The journalist had seen many strange happenings in his adventurous career, but never had he come across such an amazing situation. For now he had no doubt of the guilt of the King. What, however, could have been the motive of such odious savagery? Was it possible he had taken seriously the innocent flirtation between Susy and himself? Had the King taken vengeance upon his mistress in a moment of jealous insanity?
No, that was out of the question.