We walked for more than half an hour, and the king smoked cigarettes and chattered incessantly. He was full of interest in my family, laughed heartily when I told him of the portraits with Elphberg hair in our galleries, and yet more heartily when he heard that my expedition to Ruritania was a secret one.
"You have to visit your disreputable cousin on the sly, have you?" said he.
Suddenly emerging from the wood, we came on a small and rude shooting lodge, It was a one-story building, a sort of bungalow, built entirely of wood. As we approached it, a little man in a plain livery came out to meet us, The only other person I saw about the place was a fat elderly woman, whom I afterward discovered to be the mother of Johann, the duke's keeper.
"Well, is dinner ready, Josef?" asked the king.
The little servant informed us that it was, and we soon sat down to a plentiful meal. The fare was plain enough: the king ate heartily, Fritz von Tartenheim delicately, old Sapt voraciously. I played
