Afterwards he commanded her to describe minutely every detail of her relations with the other. He was primed with the letter-accounts; he made her dot her amorous I's and cross her bawdry T's. And every attempt at omission he punished with kicks and cuffs; no drayman or brick-layer could give a more expert exhibition of woman-beating! And he violated her again. This was the beginning of a series of outrages of the same gross character. Marie suffered for years and years that His Royal Highness may gratify his unclean fancies: he the pander; she the Cyprian. "If I ceased having lovers, I think he would kill me," says Marie. Alas, such is the stuff "God's Anointed" are made of! In the face of such, we pronounce a hypocritical _j'accuse_ upon the Louis's and Pompadours, upon Marie Antoinette even. The Duchess, who knows, gave Ferdinand an apartment near my own. We are living here like man and wife. He sometimes calls me "_Frau Professor_." * * * * * LOSCHWITZ, _July 19, 1899_. Marie is dead. "Died suddenly," said the telegram. I understand now why she begged me, with tears in her eyes, to remain at least two weeks. She was afraid that, though ill and suffering after the confinement, he would treat her as he did when he first found her unfaithful. "Don't go," she cried. "It will be my death." And when I showed her the King's letter commanding me to return at once, she made her confidential tire-woman swear on the Bible that she wouldn't leave her for a minute, day or night, until she herself released her from the promise. Private advices from ----r say His Highness brutally kicked the faithful maid out of his wife's bedroom and outraged his sick wife while the servant kept thundering at the door, denouncing her master a murderer. Ferdinand says the great majority of crowned heads are sexual voluptuaries, deserving of the penitentiary or the straight-jacket. * * * * * LOSCHWITZ, _August 1, 1899_. I caught the Tisch stealing one of my letters. Happily there was nothing incriminating in it, though addressed to Ferdinand,--just the letter the Crown Princess would write to a Privy Councillor. But the petty theft indicates that she suspects. Prince George, I am told, receives a report from her every few days. Well, I had my revenge. The Queen called today to see the children, and when Her Majesty and myself withdrew into my closet, the Tisch, who had been spying, didn't retire as promptly as she might. "Can't you see that you are _de trop_," I said sharply to her. "Please close the door from outside." The Baroness gave a cry of dismay and the Queen was scandalized. "Louise," she said, "that is no way to treat servants. You should always try to be kind and considerate with them." "I am, thanks, Your Majesty," I replied. "All the officials and servants love me, but I have very good reasons for treating the Tisch as I do."