"No one may enter, M. Vigo, not even you. M. le Duc has ordered it. Why, Félix! You in Paris!"
"I enter," said Vigo; and, sweeping Marcel aside, he knocked loudly.
"I came last night," I found time to say under my breath to my old comrade before the door was opened.
The handsome secretary whom I had taken for the count stood in the doorway looking askance at us. He knew me at once and wondered.
"You cannot enter, Vigo. M. le Duc is occupied."
He made to shut the door, but Vigo's foot was over the sill.
"Natheless, I must enter," he answered unabashed and pushed his way into the room.
"Then you must answer for it," returned the secretary, with a scowl that sat ill on his delicate face.
"You shall answer for it if it turns out a mare's nest," said Vigo, in a low, meaning voice to me. But I hardly heard him. I passed him and Lucas, and flew down the long room to Monsieur.
M. le Duc was seated before a table heaped with papers. He had been watching the scene at the door in surprise and anger. He looked at me with a sharp frown, while the deer-hound at his feet rose on its haunches growling.