"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 café."
Juve decided to spend the whole night, if necessary, to find Wulf, and began a systematic search through all the cafés 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 café at the corner of the Rue de Douai and the Rue Victor-Masse, 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 passes, 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 passes 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-class ticket; this limited the search very considerably.
The first train pulled in, but Wulf was not on board.
Juve sprang into his taxi and now hurried over to the Bois de Boulogne. Here the same result met him; the next station was Auteuil, then Vaugirard, la Glacière and Bel-Air.
It was now eight o'clock, and his appointment with M. Annion was at eleven. What was to be done?
On reaching Menilmontant Station, Juve had about decided to abandon the chase.
"I'll wait for one more train and then make some other plan," he muttered.
By great good luck he caught sight of Wulf as it ran into the station. Rushing into the carriage, he seized his man and hauled him on to the platform.
"What's the matter? Why are you here, Monsieur Juve? I am perfectly amazed … "
"Where are you going, Monsieur Wulf?"
Wulf smiled fatuously:
"I have been following his Majesty's advice, seeing Paris. What an immense city! I counted one hundred and twenty-seven stations since five o'clock this morning and I have crossed ten rivers! Why have you stopped me? I wanted to go to the end of the line."
Juve bustled him into the waiting taxi.
"I'll explain as we go," he replied. "It is a question of saving the King. He is menaced by powerful and terrible enemies."
"I am ready to die for him," exclaimed Wulf. "What must I do?"
"Oh, it's not necessary to die. All you have to do is to certify before the police authorities that the person you know as Frederick-Christian at the Royal Palace is actually the King."
"I don't understand in the least what you mean!"
"That doesn't matter; you have only to do as I say and all will be well."
M. Annion was overcome.
Wulf, after testifying to the identity of the King, had been sent to wait in an adjoining room while Juve and M. Annion had a confidential chat.
"Well, Juve, I can't get over it. Without you, I should have made a terrible break! The King arrested! What a scandal! But, tell me, what's to be done now? The public's calling for the murderer. I place myself in your hands. What do you suggest?"
Juve thought a moment.
For the time being Fandor was safe, but he was still very far from being out of the woods.
"Monsieur Annion," he replied at length, "there is just one method of procedure in this case. The assassination of Susy d'Orsel, the question of this imposture, in fact all these mysterious points which have arisen cannot be cleared up in Paris."
"What the devil do you mean, Juve?"
"I mean that in all probability the threads of this intrigue lead to Hesse-Weimar, to the capital of the kingdom, to Glotzbourg. And, if you have no objection, I will start for there this evening."
"Go, go," replied M. Annion; "perhaps you are right … anyhow,
