A story was told at the time about a couple of German officers, one of them attached to the embassy, who happening to find themselves face to face with an individual presenting a striking likeness to the kaiser, save for the fact that his moustache was twisted downwards instead of upwards, and his hair brushed in a different way, lost to such an extent their presence of mind that they could not help drawing their heels together and standing at attention; a form of courtesy which received as its only response the muttered exclamation of “Verdammte Esel!” which may be translated:  “Accursed jackasses!”

That served to confirm their suspicions, and unfortunately both their behavior and the growl of the stranger had been witnessed and heard by people who were quick to make the matter public.

It was with the object of endeavoring to disprove and discredit these stories that the emperor caused a telegram, to be sent to the czar from Hubertusstock, not written, as usual, in cipher, but in ordinary language.  There is an old French proverb according to which “he who seeks to prove too much, proves nothing,” and thus it happened that this open telegram which reached the czar at Chalons, and which was published in the German newspapers, even before Nicholas had made it known to the members of his entourage, merely served to convince people that the kaiser had really been in Paris when he was supposed to be buried amidst the gloomy forests of Hubertusstock.

Hubertusstock is not, as most people seem to imagine, a castle, but merely a huge, overgrown two-storied chalet, surrounded by a number of smaller wooden dwelling-houses for the use of the imperial suite.  Formerly, it required a drive of at least three hours from the station on the main line in order to reach the jagdschloss.  But since the accession of the emperor he has caused a private railroad to be constructed from the trunk line to a small station within a few hundred yards of the chalet.

Seldom is the kaiser found in the schloss after daybreak.  The entire morning is spent by him in the woods, which are so vast that one can wander about them for days without meeting a soul.  Luncheon is usually partaken of at some point in the forest, and frequently during this repast a concert takes place, the performers consisting of a quartette of foresters, their instruments being mere hunting horns, and their melodies those of old hunting-songs.  Within the limits of the imperial preserves is the celebrated Schorfhaide, which each year, towards the month of November, becomes the meeting place of thousands of stags.  They come from all parts of Germany and Austria, this being rendered possible by the proximity to one another of the great estates of the territorial nobility, so that it would be feasible to march almost from the Adriatic to the Baltic without leaving forest glades.  This annual assemblage of stags on the Schorfhaide has been taking place every autumn for untold centuries.  In fact, mention thereof has been found in documents more than a thousand years old.  The meetings afford an extraordinary sight, and are the scenes of numerous single combats to death between “Royals,” the other stags and the deer standing round, as if to form a huge amphitheatre, and gravely watching the duel without making any attempt to interfere.