She touched a bell--the maid entered.

"My jewel case," she said.

The King crossed to a writing desk and, taking pen and ink, placed them on the table. Then the maid brought the casket.

From the bottom tray, Mrs. Spencer took a paper and handed it to the King, who, after a glance, returned it.

"If your Majesty will dictate, I will write," she said.

Slowly, Frederick repeated the confession--and the pen scratched out line after line on the white page. When it was ended, she pa.s.sed it back again to the King, and he read it carefully.

"Sign it, please," he said.

She looked up, with an amused smile.

"With what name?" she asked.

"Your lawful one," said Frederick.

"Madeline Spencer," she answered--and dashed it off.

Then, for the first time since we entered the room, the King looked at Lotzen. Hitherto, he had ignored him, utterly.

"Witness it," he said sternly.

I smiled--and so did Madeline Spencer. It was the refinement of retribution.

Without a word or a change of feature, Lotzen obeyed. Then Frederick, himself, signed it; and, folding it carefully, gave it to me.

"Will Your Majesty graciously pardon the violence I offered you?" Mrs.

Spencer said.

Frederick nodded.

"Readily, madame," he said. "In a way, you were justified--and, then, you missed me. Had you hit me, my pardon might not have been required."

"And will you not tell me how you discovered the truth?" she asked.

"I chanced to learn of this meeting with His Royal Highness, the Duke of Lotzen, and was a witness of all that occurred here between you."

"You cannot mean that you overheard our conversation!" she exclaimed.

"Every word," said the King.

"But where--and how?"

The Duke glanced up toward the Gallery--and a bitter smile crossed his face.

"His Grace of Lotzen has guessed it," said Frederick.

She turned to the Duke interrogatingly.

"The gallery--behind the arras, yonder," he said.

"Exactly," said the King.

"And you forgot the Gallery?" Mrs. Spencer asked, mockingly.

"Yes," said he, with a shrug and a lift of his eyebrows, "I forgot it."

She turned to the King.

"I shall be ready, Sire, to depart for Paris on the evening train, to-morrow," she said.

"You shall have the permit in the morning," he answered.

Then he turned to Lotzen--and the Duke saw and understood. He straightened up and his heels came together sharply.

Frederick looked at him, sternly for a moment.

"It is unnecessary, sir, for me to particularize," he said. "You know your crimes and their purpose--so do I. The Court has no present need of plotters and will be the better for your absence. It has been over long since you visited your t.i.tular estates, and they doubtless require your immediate attention. You are, therefore, permitted to depart to them forthwith--and to remain indefinitely."

Lotzen's hand rose in salute.

"Yes, Your Majesty," he answered.

The King bowed to Mrs. Spencer.

"Madame, I bid you good evening and good-bye," he said.

She curtsied low.

"I thank Your Majesty for your gracious consideration," she said.

Then she stepped quickly toward me and held out her hand.

"Will you not say farewell, Armand--as in the days, long past?" she asked.

I knew the Princess was looking; but I was in a generous mood. I took her hand and bowed over it.

"Captain Dalberg bids farewell to Colonel Spencer's wife," I said.

Then I followed the King.

A week has pa.s.sed since the night in the Gallery. Madeline Spencer has gone--forever from my path, I trust. His Royal Highness, the Duke of Lotzen, has taken a long leave, and is sojourning on his mountain estates for the benefit of his health. There has been another supper of six at the Inn of the Twisted Pines--with four bottles of Imperial Tokay; and, afterward, a charming ride home in the moonlight.

To-night, there is to be a great State Dinner at the Palace, whereat His Majesty will formally announce the betrothal of the Princess Royal of Valeria and Field Marshal, the Grand Duke Armand.