away I am aware, but _how_ far I do not
know, or in which direction, and while I am parleying and gesticulating
in a mixture of French, English, and a _few_ words of Dutch, the only
conveyance obtainable takes itself off, and I am left to tramp through
the woods with a jargon of Dutch directions ringing in my ears, and a
very faint idea of longitude or latitude in my mind.

The first part lay through a long, straggling village leading right into
a beautiful forest. Given a fine day, and a certainty of route, it would
have been simply grand; but as it soon poured in torrents, my situation
was anything but enviable--in fact, I was almost in despair, when a huge
cart laden with trunks of trees came slowly from a turning near.

Making the man in charge understand that I wanted the "Paleis," I found
he was bound in the same direction. By this time the rutty roads were
almost ankle deep in mud, so when I was invited to ride, I gladly
scrambled to the top of the pile, and so jogged along; my good-natured
guide trudging at the side, pipe in mouth, regardless of the weather. In
such stately style, then, I at length sighted the Palace, but was
careful to make a descent before getting _too_ near, as THE STRAND
MAGAZINE must make a more dignified appearance at a Royal residence than
a wood-cart and a smock-frocked driver can impart.

Four or five men in State liveries bow profoundly as I enter, one of
whom conducts me to an ante-room, and, after a short interval, through
some long corridors, up some stairs and into the presence of one of Her
Majesty's Gentlemen of the Household. A courteous interview with him,
and I am asked to wait for Her Majesty's Private Secretary, who, out at
present, will see me on his return.

[Illustration: THE ROYAL PALACE AT DEN HAAG.
_From a Photo. by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond_.]

Of course I make the best use of the interval and see all I can of the
Palace. A fine-looking and imposing building it is, standing back in a
large quadrangle, the latter being gay with flowers. The outer rails are
literally on the edge of the wood, and no more secluded spot can be
imagined than this--the favourite residence of their Majesties. His
Majesty the late King also preferred this residence to those more
immediately near or in towns, and it was here he breathed his last.

What I see of the interior is superbly grand, but it is more to the
purpose that I have the honour of seeing their Majesties during the day,
and