“What’s the matter, Jimmie?”

He looked at us queerly.

“What have you three been up to?” he asked.

“Nothing.  Honestly and truly!” we cried.  “What’s out in the hall?  Or are you just pretending?”

“The hall is full of menials and officials and gold lace and brass buttons.  I hope you haven’t done anything to be arrested for!”

Bee began to look knowing, and just then came a knock at the door.

“If you please,” said the interpreter, bowing at every other word, “here is one of the Emperor’s couriers just from Ischl, with despatches from the court of his Imperial Majesty for the ladies if they are ready to receive them.  The courier had orders not to disturb their sleep.  He waited here in the corridor until he heard voices.  Will the excellent ladies be pleased to receive them?  His orders are to wait for answers.”

Jimmie signified that we would receive them, when forth stepped a man in the imperial liveries and handed him a packet on a silver tray.  Jimmie had the wit to lay a gold piece on the tray, at which the courier almost knelt to express his thanks.  The other attendants drew long envious breaths.

The door was shut, and Mrs. Jimmie and Bee opened their letters.  Both were from Count Andreae von Engel, saying that he and Von Furzmann, rendered desperate by the near departure of his Majesty for the manoeuvres, had resolved to risk dismissal from his suite by absence without leave.  The letter said that on that day—­the day on which it was written—­they had both attended his Majesty on a hunt, and as he seldom hunted with the same officers two days in succession, they bade fair not to be on duty after noon the next day.  Therefore, if we heard nothing to the contrary, they would leave Ischl on the one o’clock train in uniform, as if on official business.  Their servants would board the train at Gmund with citizens’ clothes, and they would be with us soon after seven that night.  They begged leave to dine with us in our private dining-room that evening, and would we be so gracious as to receive them until midnight, when they must take train for Ischl, and be on duty in uniform by seven in the morning.

I simply shrieked, as I looked at Jimmie’s perplexed face.

“What shall we do?” he said.  “We can’t have ’em here!  We must stop ’em!  Get a telegraph blank, Bee!  We haven’t any private dining-room, anyhow, and if they got caught we might be dragged into it!  Well, what is it?”

He turned to the door half savagely, and there stood the proprietor, with some ten or twelve servants at his heels.

“You were speaking to me the other day about better rooms?  Will it please you to look at some on the second floor, which have never been occupied since they were done over?  There are five rooms en suite—­just about what your Excellency desires.”

Jimmie turned to us with a sickly grin.

We all waited for Mrs. Jimmie to speak.