To his intense surprise, they stopped ten minutes later at the Royal Palace, the most luxurious hotel in Paris.
With infinite deference he was then conducted to the elevator and taken to the first floor.
"Well, this lets me out," thought Fandor. "Evidently the King has sent for me ... in a few minutes I shall be free ... what a piece of luck!"
He was shown into a sumptuous apartment and there left to his own devices.
"Wonder what's become of Frederick-Christian," he muttered, after a wait of twenty minutes. "It's worse than being at the dentist's."
As the room was very warm, Fandor removed his overcoat and began an investigation of his surroundings. Upon a table lay several illustrated papers and picking one up he seated himself comfortably in an armchair and began to read.
Some minutes later a Major-domo entered the room with much ceremony and silently presented him with a card. This turned out to be a menu.
"Well, they're not going to let me starve anyway," he thought, "and as long as the King has asked me to breakfast, I'll accept his invitation."
Choosing several dishes at random, he returned the menu, and the man, bowing deeply, inquired:
"Where shall we serve breakfast? In the boudoir?"