The Emperor, whose curiosity as well as patriotism was aroused, spent half an hour on November 11th discussing the bust with Dr. Bode and examining an album containing photographs of the works of Lucas.  At the close of his inspection the Emperor expressed great delight at the acquisition, as to the genuineness of which he declared he “had not the slightest doubt,” and said he did not regard the price paid as extremely high.  Unfortunately for the Emperor’s conviction, a letter now appeared in the Times from Mr. A.C.  Lucas, a son of R.C.  Lucas, who said he recollected the making of the bust, and suggested that there might be found in its interior a piece of cloth, probably a part of an old waistcoat of his father’s, which had been used as a sort of filling.  In the presence of such a statement there was only one thing left to be done:  to examine the interior of the bust.  First of all it was subjected to the Roentgen rays, the result being to show that the interior was not homogeneous.  A few days after, there was a great gathering of experts at the Museum, a hole was cut in the wax at the back of the bust, a bent wire was introduced, and the search for the famous piece of waistcoat began.  It was a dramatic moment as Professor Latghen with his wire explored the interior of the bust, and the tension reached its highest point when the Professor, drawing from the bust what was evidently a piece of cloth, exclaimed, “Hier ist die Veste!” On being further withdrawn the substance proved to be about two square inches of a grey, canvas-like material, feeling soft and velvety to the touch.  It was a disagreeable discovery for the Germans, but it was got over by the suggestion that the original bust had been entrusted to Lucas for repair, and that in this way the waistcoat had got into it.  The “poor English newspapers,” Dr. Bode said, referring to the sarcastic comments on the discovery from the other side of the Channel, “had had, without any acquaintance with our bust or with the work of its alleged forger, to give this particular form of expression to their ill-humour at the sale.”  As a matter of fact, the bust, whoever made it, is a lovely work of art, as every one who has seen it readily admits.

The Emperor’s friendship with Mr. Theodore Roosevelt, which was now to be confirmed by personal acquaintance, throws a side light on his own character, and testifies to his desire to keep in touch with the rulers of other countries—­another illustration, by the way, of his consistency, since he laid down the policy of cultivating friendly relations with foreign rulers at the very commencement of his reign.  Probably many letters in the large characteristic handwriting of both men have passed between them, and there probably always existed a desire on the part of the wielder of the mailed fist to make the personal acquaintance of the advocate of the big stick.  The meeting occurred in May, 1910, after Mr. Roosevelt had shot wild beasts in Africa, visited Egypt, London, Vienna, Rome, and other continental cities, with a cohort of newspaper correspondents, and caused by his speeches political, if fortunately harmless, disturbance almost everywhere he went.  When in Berlin he was to have lodged at the Emperor’s palace; but the Emperor’s hospitable intent was frustrated by the death of King Edward VII, which prevented all entertainment in the home of his German nephew.