The sentry at the farther end of the gallery started and fell back a pace.

Instantly the door beside him opened and a man came in, and closing it quickly behind him, advanced up the room with an air of dignity, which even his strange appearance and attire could not wholly destroy.
He was of good stature and bearing, about forty years old as I judged, his wear a dress of violet velvet with black points cut in the extreme of the fashion.

He carried a sword but no ruff, and had a cup and ball of ivory--a strange toy much in vogue among the idle--suspended from his wrist by a ribbon.

He was lean and somewhat narrow, but so far I found little fault with him.

It was only when my eye reached his face, and saw it rouged like a woman's and surmounted by a little turban, that a feeling of scarcely understood disgust seized me, and I said to myself, 'This is the stuff of which kings' minions are made!' To my surprise, however, M.de Rambouillet went to meet him with the utmost respect, sweeping the dirty floor with his bonnet, and bowing to the very ground.