the result of their
games is that the Count only curses the rarity of good chess-players."

"And so you think of proposing a game with him?"

"Not exactly," said the long-nosed man, with a faint smile at my
simplicity. "An obscure man like me, travelling without a servant,
doesn't propose games to a great nobleman, at the great nobleman's own
gates. The great nobleman may condescend to invite, but the obscure
traveller may not presume to offer himself,--not, at least, without
creating wonder and some curiosity as to his motives. No; that would be
too direct, moreover. It would suggest that I had been inquisitive about
him, to have learned that he is fond of chess. I may tell you that the
Count has his reasons for imagining that strangers may come trying to
get access to him, who have taken pains to learn something of his ways
beforehand. He has his reasons for suspecting every stranger who seeks
to enter his gates. No; we must neither show any knowledge of him, more
than his name, nor any desire to get into his house. We must play upon
his hobby without openly appealing to it. That is why two of us are
necessary. This is what we will do."

I listened with great interest, surprised to discover what acuteness of
mind was hidden behind the pale, meek eyes and un-expressive pasty
countenance of this man with the long nose.

"In an hour or so from now," he said, "I shall be sitting before the
cabaret, where you saw me yesterday. You will come there, from wandering
about the fields, and we will greet each other as having met casually on
our walks this morning--as indeed we actually have met. You will sit
down to refresh yourself with a bottle of wine, and we shall get into
conversation, like the strangers that we are to each other. The people
of the cabaret will hear us, more or less, and the porter at the chateau
gates will doubtless observe us. I will presently lead the talk to the
subject of chess. You will profess to be ardently devoted to the game. I
will show an equally great passion for it. We will express much regret
that we have no chessmen with us, and will inquire if any can be
obtained in the village. I know already that none can be: the priest
once owned a set, but he let the village children use them as toys and
they are broken up. Well, then, rather than lose the opportunity of
encountering a first-class player, you will suggest that we try to
borrow chessmen from the owner of that great chateau, who must s