arked your eyes as they glistened over the heaps of gold, and
looked at some of our beauties of Baden. Beware of such sirens, young
man! and take me for your Mentor; avoiding what I have done--that
understands itself. You have not played as yet? Do not do so; above
all avoid a martingale, if you do. Play ought not to be an affair of
calculation, but of inspiration. I have calculated infallibly, and what
has been the effect? Gousset empty, tiroirs empty, necessaire parted for
Strasbourg! Where is my fur pelisse, Frederic?"

"Parbleu, vous le savez bien, Monsieur le Vicomte," says Frederic, the
domestic, who was waiting on Clive and his friend.

"A pelisse lined with true sable, and, worth three thousand francs,
that I won of a little Russian at billiards. That pelisse at Strasbourg
(where the infamous worms of the Mount of Piety are actually gnawing
her). Two hundred francs and this reconnaissance, which Frederic
receive, are all that now represent the pelisse. How many chemises have
I, Frederic?"

"Eh, parbleu, Monsieur le Vicomte sait bien que nous avons toujours
vingt-quatre chemises," says Frederic, grumbling.

Monsieur le Vicomte springs up shrieking from the dinner-table.
"Twenty-four shirts," says he, "and I have been a week without a louis
in my pocket! Belitre! Nigaud!" He flings open one drawer after another,
but there are no signs of that--superfluity of linen of which the
domestic spoke, whose countenance now changes from a grim frown to a
grim smile.

"Ah, my faithful Frederic, I pardon thee! Mr. Newcome will understand
my harmless supercherie. Frederic was in my company of the Guard, and
remains with me since. He is Caleb Balderstone and I am Ravenswood. Yes,
I am Edgard. Let us have coffee and a cigar, Balderstone."

"Plait-il, Monsieur le Vicomte?" says the French Caleb.

"Thou comprehendest not English. Thou readest not Valtare Scott, thou!"
cries the master. "I was recounting to Monsieur Newcome thy history and
my misfortunes. Go seek coffee for us, nigaud." And as the two gentlemen
partake of that exhilarating liquor, the elder confides gaily to his
guest the reason why he prefers taking coffee at the hotel to the coffee
at the great Cafe of the Redoute, with a duris urgens in rebus egestass!
pronounced in the true French manner.

Clive was greatly amused by the gaiety of the Viscount after his
misfortunes and his Moscow; and thought that one of Mr. Baines's
circular notes might not be ill lai