s
decreasing even more rapidly than they had been accumulated. At last,
after a long run of ill fortune, when I had staked a very large sum on
the board, just as the banker was about to begin, I changed my mind and
withdrew half of it.

"No, no,--let it stay," whispered a voice in my ear; "the sooner this is
over the better."

I turned. It was Duchesne himself, who for some time had been seated
behind my chair and looking on at the game.

Fleeting as was the glance I had of his features, I fancied they were
somewhat paler than usual. Could this be from the turn of fortune? But
no. I watched him now, and I perceived that he never even looked at the
game. At last, I staked all that remained in one _coup_, and lost; when,
drawing forth my own purse, I was about to make another bet,--

"No, no, Burke," whispered he in my ear; "I was only waiting for this
moment. Let us come away now. I rise as I sat down, Messieurs," he said,
gayly; while he added, in a lower tone, "Sauf l'honneur."

"Have you had enough of gayety for one night?" said he, as he drew my
arm within his. "Shall we turn home wards?"

"Willingly," said I; for somehow I felt chagrined and vexed at my
ill-luck, and was angry with myself for playing.

"Come along, then; this door will bring us to the stairs."

As we passed along hastily through the crowd, I saw that a young officer
in a hussar uniform whispered something in Duchesne's ear; to which
he quickly replied, "Certainly." And as he spoke again in the same low
tone, Duchesne answered, "Agreed, sir," with a courteous smile, and a
look of much pleasure.

"Well, Burke," said he, turning to me, "these are about the most
splendid _salons_ in Paris; I think I never saw more perfect taste. I
certainly must thank you for being my chaperon here."

"You forget, Duchesne, the Duchesse de Montserrat, it seems," said I,
laughing.

"By Jove, and so I had!" said he. "Yet the initiative lay with you;
how the termination may be is another matter," added he, in a mumbling
voice, not intended to be heard.

"At all events," said I, puzzled what to say, and feeling I should
say something, "I am happy your Russian friend took no notice of your
speech."

"And why?" said he, with a peculiar smile,--"and why?"

"I abhor a duel, in the first place."

"But, my dear boy, that speech smacks much more of the Ecole de Jesuites
than of St. Cyr. Don't let any one less your friend than I am hear you
say so."

"I care n