They say he married an African lady there--and that the Duke is really more in the direct line of succession than Prince Rupert." But here the daughter showed me to my room.

She blushed, of course, and apologized for not bringing a candle, as she thought my hair was sufficiently illuminating.

"But," she added with another blush, "I do SO like it." I replied by giving her something of no value,--a Belgian nickel which wouldn't pass in Bock, as I had found to my cost.

But my hair had evidently attracted attention from others, for on my return to the guest-room a stranger approached me, and in the purest and most precise German--the Court or 'Olland Hof speech--addressed me: "Have you the red hair of the fair King or the hair of your father ?" Luckily I was able to reply with the same purity and precision: "I have both the hair of the fair King and my own.

But I have not the hair of my father nor of Black Michael, nor of the innkeeper nor the innkeeper's wife.