genuity) an absolutely imaginary love affair, attended with the proper soupçon of scandal, which had kept me all this time in the peaceful regions of the Tyrol. In return for this narrative George regaled me with a great deal of what he called "inside information" (known only to diplomatists) as to the true course of events in Ruritania, the plots and counterplots. In his opinion, he told me, with a significant nod, there was more to be said for Black Michael than the public supposed; and he hinted at a well-founded suspicion that the mysterious prisoner of Zenda, concerning whom a good many paragraphs had appeared, was not a man at all, but (here I had some ado not to smile) a woman disguised as a man; and that strife between the king and his brother for this imaginary lady's favor was at the bottom of their quarrel.
"Perhaps it was Mme. de Mauban herself," I suggested.
"No!" said George decisively. "Antoinette de Mauban was jealous of her, and betrayed the duke to the king for that reason. And, to confirm what I say, it's well known that the Princess Flavia
