_The Count of Königsmark once loved a queen, Became the queen's own lover, so folk say, In her own room, censed with fresh-burnt verbene When nights were young as when they died to-day._ _What idle thoughts she poured into thy mind Who could declare, what idle tales she told As beaded bluebells all the while she twined With hearts' ease in her locks of russet gold._ "The author of those lines," said Vignerte, "had read Blaze de Bury's book. It is the only useful work in French on the tragedy. Do you remember it?" "I'm afraid I've forgotten most of it," I confessed. "I shall have to give you the story in some detail. It will not explain my own adventure. It makes it even more extraordinary." You will certainly remember what was the general situation in the State of Hanover in 1680. Its sovereign was Ernest-Augustus, a profligate versed in all the arts of statesmanship, who had been successively Bishop of Osnabrück, and Duke and Elector of Hanover. His brother, George-William, was Duke of Brunswick-Lüneburg. Ernest-Augustus had a son, George: George-William a daughter, Sophie-Dorothea. The ambitions of Ernest-Augustus had a double goal. His primary aim was to recover his brother's estates for his family. There was only one method--to marry George to Sophie-Dorothea. The marriage took place in 1682 when the Duchess of Brunswick-Lüneburg was only sixteen. The other ambition of Ernest-Augustus soared higher. It was the crown of England. Fortune favoured him. One after another the twelve children of Queen Anne were gathered by death. Ernest-Augustus was not to see the fulfilment of his work--he died in 1698--but his son George reaped its fruits. On the death of Queen Anne in 1714 he mounted the throne of Great Britain as George I. He mounted it alone. Eighteen years before he had separated from his wife as the result of an infamous intrigue, and when her husband assumed the crown of England the wretched Sophie-Dorothea was dragging out her weary days in the Castle of Ahlden, more prison than palace. You must forgive me for this dry summary of facts. It is essential I should be clear. The story of Sophie-Dorothea's divorce is the story of the assassination of Count Philip-Christopher von Königsmark. A member of one of the highest and most ancient Swedish families, friend of the Prince-Elector of Saxony, as dark and handsome as Sophie-Dorothea was fair and lovely, Count Philip and the Duchess of Brunswick-Lüneburg had known each other at Celle in their childhood when they were affianced in the ingenuous manner of the times. Their ways had parted, however, and Philip had led the adventurous life of a gallant Swedish free-lance at the Courts of James II. and Louis XIV., at Dresden and Venice. Was Sophie-Dorothea's marriage a spur to his old love or a blow to his vanity? Whatever the reason, the fact remains that one fine morning Hanover witnessed the arrival of Count Philip von Königsmark.