might myself have doubted my mental soundness had it not
been for the cross in my hand, which I at once recognized as being that
worn by the nun, and had not a lackey finally confessed to having beheld
the strange figure. He was coming from the colonnade with a tray of
refreshments when he saw me in conversation with her. The mask had
something familiar about her, he said, but he could not remember where
he had seen her before. He had been a servant in the palace for forty
years.

Nobody thought of a spectre; on the other hand extravagant speculations
became rife of a conspirator being at work. It was rumored the king had
originally intended to wear a sailor costume.

Of course, it was him the uncanny visitor had designs upon. In view of
the fact that the political horizon was very dark and clouded at that
time, the conjecture was perhaps not altogether phantastical, and for
this reason the report quickly reached the ears of the king and the
royal family. I was promptly summoned before His Majesty, and it gave
me a sort of revengeful pleasure to relate the incident to that august
person. For I was still fully persuaded that some young member of his
family had played this obnoxious trick upon me.

The king nodded thoughtfully upon my frank declaration that, according
to my researches, the enigmatical female could only have come from the
royal apartments.

Said his Majesty:

"May I ask you, my dear Baron, to show me the cross you found?"

I put it into his hand.

For a moment the king stared upon it speechless. Then he turned it
over, and ejaculated, roughly almost under the emotion of his violent
surprise:

"Great God--why--it is--!"

And he pointed to the small, delicately engraved initials, surmounted by
a crown, in the middle of the cross. Very pale and with heaving breast
he went on:

"A nun, a gray nun, you say? What would the object of such a joke be?
and how--how should this cross come back among the living? Baron, come
with me, I must request your confidence and secrecy!"

We passed through several rooms, and then arrived at a narrow gallery
whose walls were hung with portraits of royal personages. The king came
abruptly to a halt, and without himself looking up indicated a certain
picture:

"Observe that painting! Do you see the same Cross there that you have in
your hand?"

Involuntarily I uttered the loud cry:

"Why, that is she! Holy Heavens! It is my nun!"

"The cross--compare the cross!