We passed through two rooms, in one of which some secretaries were writing, we stopped at a third door.

Over all brooded a silence which could be felt.
The usher knocked, opened, and, with his finger on his lip, pushed aside a curtain and signed to me to enter.

I did so and found myself behind a screen.
'Is that M.de Berault ?' asked a thin, high-pitched voice.
'Yes, Monseigneur,' I answered trembling.
'Then come, my friend, and talk to me.' I went round the screen, and I know not how it was, the watching crowd outside, the vacant ante-chamber in which I had stood, the stillness and silence all seemed to be concentrated here, and to give to the man I saw before me a dignity which he had never possessed for me when the world passed through his doors, and the proudest fawned on him for a smile.
He sat in a great chair on the farther side of the hearth, a little red skull-cap on his head, his fine hands lying still in his lap.

The collar of lawn which fell over his cape was quite plain, but the skirts of his red robe were covered with rich lace, and the order of the Holy Ghost, a white dove on a gold cross, shone on his breast.

Among the multitudinous papers on the great table near him I saw a sword and pistols; and some tapestry that covered a little table behind him failed to hide a pair of spurred riding-boots.