'The d--l! sir,' said the pretended count, giving the table a
violent blow with his fist--'Why do you talk to me about your
WORD. Gad! You are well entitled to appeal to the engagements
of honour! Well! We have now to play another game on this
table, and we must speak out plainly. Monsieur Olivier de ----,
you are a rogue . . . Yes, a rogue! The cards we have been
using are biseautees and YOU brought them hither.'
'Sir! . . You insult me!' said Olivier.
'Indeed? Well, sir, that astonishes me!' replied the false
'That is too much, sir. I demand satisfaction, and that on the
very instant. Do you understand me? Let us go out at once.'
'No! no! We must end this quarrel here, sir. Look here--your
two friends shall be your "seconds;" I am now going to send for
The card-sharper, who had risen at these words, rang the bell
violently. His own servant entered. 'Go,' said he, 'to the
Procureur de Roi, and request him to come here on a very
important matter. Be as quick as you can.'
'Oh, sir, be merciful! Don't ruin me!' exclaimed the wretched
Olivier; 'I will do what you like.' At these words, the sharper
told his servant to wait behind the door, and to execute his
order if he should hear nothing to the contrary in ten minutes.