"Is the valet Guther here?"
"Ah, you know this gentleman's name! Then perhaps you belong to the emperor's suite?"
"Yes," said the stranger, laughing, "I shave him occasionally. Now call
Gunther."
There was something rather imperious in the tone of the gentleman who occasionally shaved the emperor, and the landlord felt impelled to obey.
"Of course," said he, respectfully, "if you shave the emperor, you are entitled to a room here."
The stranger followed him up the broad staircase that led to the first story of the hotel. As they reached the landing, a door opened, and the emperor's valet stepped out into the ball.
"His majesty!" exclaimed he, quickly moving aside and standing stiff as a sentry by the door.
"His majesty!" echoed the landlord. "This gentleman—this—Your majesty—have I—"
"I am Count Falkenstein," replied the emperor, amused. "You see now that you were wrong to refuse me; for the man whom you took for an ordinary mortal was neither more nor less than the emperor himself."
The landlord bent the knee and began to apologize, but Joseph stopped him short. "Never mind," said he, "follow me, I wish to speak with you."