being in pursuit of him
for a debt of one thousand francs. 'Is that all?' said Chauvignac; and
pulling out his pocket-book he added,--'Here's a bank-note; you can
repay me to-morrow.' 'Why, man, you are mad!' exclaimed Olivier. 'Be it
so,' said Chauvignac; 'and in my madness I give you credit for another
thousand-franc bank-note to go and get thirty thousand francs which
are waiting for you.' 'Now, do explain yourself, for you are driving
ME mad.' 'Nothing more easy. Here is the fact,' said Chauvignac. 'M. le
Comte de Vandermool, a wealthy Belgian capitalist, a desperate gamester
if ever there was one, and who can lose a hundred thousand francs
without much inconvenience, is now at Boulogne, where he will remain a
week. This millionnaire must be thinned a little. Nothing is easier. One
of my friends and confreres, named Chaffard, is already with the count
to prepare the way. We have only now to set to work. You are one of
us--that's agreed--and in a few days you will return, to satisfy your
creditors and buy your mistress a shawl.'

'Stop a bit. You are going too fast. Wait a little. I haven't as yet
said Yes,' replied Olivier. 'I don't want your Yes now; you will say
it at Boulogne. For the present go and pay your bill. We set out in
two hours; the post-horses are already ordered; we shall start from my
house: be punctual.'

The party reached Boulogne and put up at the Hotel de l'Univers. On
their arrival they were informed that no time was to be lost, as the
count talked of leaving next day. The two travellers took a hasty
dinner, and at once proceeded to the apartment of the Belgian
millionnaire. Chaffard, who had preceded them, introduced them as two of
his friends, whose property was situated in the vicinity of Boulogne.

M. le Comte de Vandermool was a man about fifty years of age, with
an open, candid countenance. He wore several foreign decorations. He
received the two gentlemen with charming affability; he did more; he
invited them to spend the evening with him. Of course the invitation
was accepted. When the conversation began to flag, the count proposed
a game--which was also, of course, very readily agreed to by the three
comperes.

While the table was prepared, Chauvignac gave his young friend two packs
of cards, to be substituted for those which should be furnished by the
count. Ecarte was to be the game, and Olivier was to play, the two other
associates having pretended to know nothing about the game