"In the spring of 1911 I went to Russia, to spend Easter with Papa. It was while I was there that I received a letter, which I ought to have shown you, from the Grand Duke. He told me that the Kaiser had summoned him to Berlin, and asked him whether he was prepared to use his scientific knowledge in the service of the Empire. Exploration had just proved the existence of immense mineral wealth in the Cameroons. It was necessary to confirm this discovery, and also ascertain as discreetly as possible the mineral resources of the neighbouring territories, so that the question of Germany's interest in annexing them might be considered. I'm sorry to say, my friend, that the territories in question form that part of the Congo which France ceded to Germany by the treaty of 1912. "So Rudolph was going off to Africa with Boose. With a sorry pretence of indifference he made his excuses for leaving Europe without waiting for my return, pleading the urgency of the imperial orders. He added that if he allowed himself to take such a course, it was only because he was certain that his absence would make no difference to the normal course of my existence. In that my poor friend was woefully wrong. "Letters from him reached me from Paris, Bordeaux, and Saint-Louis in Senegal. From the Congo itself came the two or three which I have shown you. Then came an interval, rather a long interval, and one day my brother-in-law, Frederick-Augustus, arrived at Lautenburg, bringing the sad news that the Grand Duke had had sunstroke, and died at Sangha, almost at the end of his journey. My name had been the last on his lips. "Melusine will tell you how I mourned for Rudolph, and not indeed as I should mourn for Taras-Bulba, were he to die tomorrow, for I have never done that horse a wrong. But though I was always frank and loyal to Rudolph, I could not get rid of the feeling that in some way I was to blame for his death. "As a funeral was impossible, a magnificent service was held in memory of him who rests under the sun-baked clay of Africa. The Emperor and Empress and all the German princes were present. The red Hussars of Lautenburg, with crêpe on their swords, rendered the last honours, and their uniforms during the service made me think sadly of the poor red Hussar of the Peterhof who danced so badly but was so kind. "Every sentence of my story, my friend, has been a mark of my confidence in you. You shall now have clear proof in every word that follows. "You know my little orderly officer, Hagen, and have no particular liking for him. I can't say whether devotion or love is his ruling passion. Devotion enables one to repose absolute trust in another, but love makes one alive to another's interests in a way that is impossible for oneself.