Jitters

At Brasov, where that Jewish Juno, large, muscular, red-haired Mme Magda Lupescu, often dallies with King Carol II, guards caught a fully-armed spy roaming the Royal Palace last week. Spy Ludwig Andrei had in his breast pockets plans of the palace, its secret entrances and those sliding panels which have enabled Rumanian Royalty to pass with such discretion from one bedchamber to another. Next day police, gendarmes and detectives raided scores of hotels, restaurants and clubs, stopped railway trains to search passengers to the skin. By nightfall Spy Andrei had been joined in jail by over 5,000 suspects.

On the morrow toothy, nervous King Carol rode out to open Parliament with bland, lumpish little Crown Prince Mihai at his side. From the Throne, His Majesty announced that the Rumanian Army--already larger than the U. S. Army--must be further enlarged and equipped with even better Krupp guns "because of the prevailing international insecurity." That chore done, the state carriage clop-clopped back toward the palace. Suddenly a man darted from the crowd, thrust something into the laps of the King and Crown Prince. As at Marseille when King Alexander of Yugoslavia was assassinated (TIME, Oct. 15), the usual ornate, equestrian guard spurred forward a few seconds late to cut the man down with a terrific sabre blow.

It was then discovered that into the royal laps had been thrust not a death-dealing pistol but a petition signed by the man cut down, Captain Alexander Sumar, retired. "I am tubercular," read the Captain's petition. "My disease caused me to be retired from Your Majesty's service. I beg to be reinstated."

As the bleeding petitioner was led away, Rumanian police redoubled their raiding zeal, had 12,000 people in jail by nightfall. Said Bucharest's Chief of Police: "Anyhow, 20 of these suspects have turned out to be engaged in speculating illegally against the Rumanian lei."

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