Gaultier rapped loudly on the first door he encountered, and the summons appeared to scatter some of the inhabitants, judging by the rapid opening and closing of doors that preceded the appearance of an elderly and solemn-looking Turk, who cautiously demanded their business.
Gaultier sent in his card, and the servitor locked the door in the faces of the two men while he went to ascertain his master's orders.
"They evidently do not mean to take many risks," said the King's messenger in a low voice.
"You are right," replied Brett, "though they appear to take the greatest one of all without giving it a thought."
"And what is that?"
"This exhibition of nervousness and precaution before visitors are admitted. The best way to excite suspicion is to behave exactly as they are doing."
But now the door was reopened, and the elderly Turk ushered them into a spacious room on the right of the entrance hall, where they were received by a young man—a tall, dignified Mohammedan, who rose hastily from a chair, having apparently abandoned the perusal of a newspaper.
"Ah! mon brave Gaultier," he cried, "I am so pleased to see you. I did not know you were in Paris. I have been spending an idle moment over smoke and scandal." He spoke excellent French, and appeared to be quite at his ease, but Brett noticed that Hussein-ul-Mulk held the discarded newspaper upside down. He was smoking a cigarette, lighted the instant before their appearance, and notwithstanding his Oriental phlegm he seemed to be labouring under intense excitement.
Nevertheless, Hussein-ul-Mulk could control his nerves.
"Have you had déjeûner, or have you time to join me in a cigarette?" he went on.