"Your business, Monsieur, if you please?" he said inquisitively. And I wondered why the others looked at me so strangely.
"I am M. de Berault," I answered sharply. "I have the entrée."
He bowed politely enough. "Yes, M. de Berault, I have the honour to know your face," he said. "But pardon me. Have you business with His Eminence?"
"I have the common business," I answered bluntly, "by which many of us live, sirrah!--to wait on him."
"But--by appointment, Monsieur?" he persisted.
"No," I said, astonished. "It is the usual hour. For the matter of that, however, I have business with him."
The man looked at me for a moment, in apparent embarrassment. Then he stood reluctantly aside, and signed to the door-keeper to open the door. I passed in, uncovering, with an assured face, ready to meet all eyes. Then in a moment, on the threshold, the mystery was explained.
The room was empty.