finally disappeared through the door which gave access to the
antechamber without. The door, however, had not opened, and the
three guards stationed in the antechamber, as has been already
stated, had neither seen nor heard anything of the apparition. At
the moment of her disappearance the Emperor fell into a swoon,
remaining in that condition until the guards and the doctor revived
him.

Such was the story, gaining ground every day in Berlin, of the
first of the three appearances of the White Lady of the
Hohenzollerns to the Kaiser. The story of her second appearance to
him, which occurred some two or three weeks later, is equally
remarkable.

On this occasion she did not visit him at Potsdam, but at Berlin,
and instead of the witching hour of midnight, she chose the broad,
clear light of day. Indeed, during the whole of her career, the
White Lady does not seem to have kept to the time-honoured
traditions of most ghosts, and appeared to startled humanity
chiefly at night time or in dim uncertain lights. She has never
been afraid to face the honest daylight, and that, in my opinion,
has always been a great factor in establishing her claim to
genuineness. A ghost who is seen by sane people, in full daylight,
cannot surely be a mere legendary myth!

It was an afternoon of bright summer--that fateful summer whose
blue skies were so soon to be darkened by the sinister clouds of
war! The Royal Standard, intimating to the worthy citizens of
Berlin the presence of their Emperor, floated gaily over the
Imperial residence in the gentle breeze. The Emperor, wrapped in