down his cards with an exclamation.

"You have the luck of the evil one," he said, bitterly. "How much is
that?"

"Two thousand crowns," the other replied without emotion. "You will play
no more?"

"No! I wish to heaven I had never played at all!" was the answer. As he
spoke the loser rose, and moving to the window stood looking out. For a
few moments the elder man remained in his seat, gazing furtively at him;
at length he too rose, and, stepping softly to his companion, he touched
him on the shoulder. "Your pardon a moment, M. le Vicomte," he said.
"Am I right in concluding that the loss of this sum will inconvenience
you?"

"A thousand fiends!" the young gamester exclaimed, turning on him
wrathfully. "Is there any man whom the loss of two thousand crowns would
not inconvenience? As for me----"

"For you," the other continued smoothly, filling up the pause, "shall I
be wrong in supposing that it means something like ruin?"

"Well, sir, and if it does?" the young man retorted; and he drew himself
up, his cheek a shade paler with passion. "Depend upon it you shall be
paid. Do not be afraid of that!"

"Gently, gently, my friend," the winner answered, his patience in strong
contrast to the other's violence. "I had no intention of insulting you,
believe me. Those who play with the Vicomte de Noirterre are not wont to
doubt his honour. I spoke only in your own interest. It has occurred to
me, Vicomte, that the matter may be arranged at less cost to yourself."

"How?" was the curt question.

"May I speak freely?" The Vicomte shrugged his shoulders, and the other,
taking silence for consent, proceeded: "You, Vicomte, are governor of
Lusigny for the King of Navarre; I, of Creance, for the King of France.
Our towns lie but three leagues apart. Could I by any chance, say on one
of these fine nights, make myself master of Lusigny, it would be worth
more than two thousand crowns to me. Do you understand?"

"No," the young man answered slowly, "I do not."

"Think over what I have said, then," was the brief answer.

For a full minute there was silence in the room. The Vicomte gazed from
the window with knitted brows and compressed lips, while his companion,
seated near at hand, leant back in his chair, with an air of affected
carefulness. Outside, the rattle of arms and hum of voices told that the
watch were passing through the street. The church bell rang one o'clock.
Suddenly the Vicomte burst into a forced laugh, an