solutely fascinating," I
said. "I am almost inclined to fall in love with her. Where is she
now?"

The old man paused and a sad look came over his face.

"She is dead, poor woman," he answered sadly; "they say she died of a
broken heart."

"At losing the throne?" I queried.

"I don't know, I'm sure," he said slowly, throwing away the end of his
cigar. "Some say she was glad to get rid of the responsibilities of
it, and quite content to retire to a castle she had in Switzerland not
far from the Lake of Lucerne. She was a woman of very simple tastes."

"It seems a pity she did not marry," I suggested, "as far as one can
judge."

"Well, it is highly probable," he answered, "that she would not have
lost her throne if she had had a husband to stand up for her. She was
no match for Razzaro."

"Who was Razzaro?" I asked.

"Well, he was the sort of adventurer," the old diplomat answered, "that
South America seems especially to breed. He was a man of great talents
and abandoned to unscrupulousness. I believe he would have sold his
own mother, if he could have got a good bid, and would have haggled
with the purchaser whether the price was to include the clothes she
stood in."

"A thoroughly honourable, straightforward gentleman," I suggested
ironically. "I can imagine a lady such as you describe Queen Inez to
have been being peculiarly unfitted to deal with such a man!"

"Yes," agreed Sir Rupert; "and her Prime Minister, or Chancellor as
they called him, Don Juan d'Alta, was not much better. He had the
misfortune to possess the nature of a modern Bayard, and believed in
everybody, until he found out too late that he had been deceived. That
is how Queen Inez lost her throne. Razzaro was slowly but surely
sapping the Royal power for years, right under d'Alta's nose, and he
never really found it out until the whole country burst into
revolution."

"What happened then?" I asked.

"Nothing happened," replied Sir Rupert. "When the Queen discovered
that the voice of the people was in favour of a Republic she simply
abdicated. She would not allow a drop of blood to be shed in her
behalf. An Istrian warship which had been waiting for her at the coast
took her to Europe with her devoted lady-in-waiting, the Baroness
d'Altenberg."

"D'Altenberg," I muttered; "where have heard that name?"

"It was a bloodless revolution."

"And Razzaro triumphed?" I added aloud.

"Yes; Razzaro triumphed," he replied; "and