dice.

Léodgard was banker at a lansquenet table. Luck, which had been unfavorable to him at first, had changed; he won on every deal, and the gold lay in piles before him. He raked in his adversaries' money with the utmost sang-froid. He was in no wise excited by his good fortune; from time to time he glanced about with a vague expression and seemed to give little thought to the pastime in which he was indulging.

"Evidently, it is hopeless to play against the Comte de Marvejols to-night," said the Chevalier de la Valteline, leaving the card table in a pet; "I believe he has sold himself to the devil; he has a familiar demon who favors him!"

"Nonsense!" said Montrevert; "we must not find fault with his good luck; he lost steadily for a long enough time; he was even reduced once to staking his cloak.—Do you remember that night, Léodgard?"

"Yes, yes, I remember it.—Messieurs, the bets are not all made."

"For my part, I shall not forget it!" continued Montrevert; "for it was the same night that I was attacked and robbed by Giovanni."

"Come, messieurs, make your bets!" cried Léodgard, frowning darkly, while all his features contracted as if in a nervous spasm.

"Léodgard must remember it, too," added La Valteline, "for it was that same night that he insisted on pursuing that famous robber, to kill him; and, although he did not kill him, he had the honor of wounding him at all events, for he came back covered with blood."

"Well, comte, what are you doing? You are taking up the money, although you lost!" said Jarnonville to Léodgard, whose face had suddenly become ghastly pale.

"Oh, yes! to be sure; I beg pardon. I did lose, did I not?—Well! let someone else take the bank."

"All the same, I would be very glad to have had the honor of fighting with that Giovanni!"

"Is he still performing his doughty deeds, the villain?"

"I should say so! He is more audacious than ever, so it seems. Not four days ago, the Vicomte de Monferrant, on his way home from a party where there had been some high play, was attacked on Rue Saint-Paul and robbed by that bedevilled Italian!"

"Did Monferrant defend himself?"

"He says so, but I don't believe it; he is too much of a coward for that."

"In that case, how did he happen to be going home alone?"

"He was not alone—his servant was in front with a lantern; but at his master's first outcry, the rascal, instead of running to his assistance, fled, it seems, without so much as looking back."

"And a few days earlier, the old Baronne de Graveline was going home one evening in a brouette; Giovanni drove away the man who wheeled the brouette, then relieved the baroness of her money, diamonds, and jewels; she had some very fine ones on that night."

"It is worthy of remark that this infernal villain has extraordinary luck; he always stumbles on a rich victim!"

"Do you call that luck, Montrevert? For my part, I am persuaded that Giovanni attacks only where he is sure of his ground. I mean by that that he must have confederates, who probably inform him as to the profitable strokes that may be made on a certain evening."

"In that case, Giovanni's confederates must be received in the best society, and even at court, to be so thoroughly posted concerning what is going on, and to know what road such and such a person is likely to take to return home."

"Ha! ha! that is not an unlikely supposition, on my word! There is no safety anywhere, messieurs!—I say, Comte de Marvejols, are you quite certain that you have had no thieves at your party to-night?—Léodgard!—Where in the devil is he?"

Léodgard had left the card room and had gone to the table where the indomitable drinkers were still at work; he had swallowed several glasses of maraschino, then had gone out into the courtyard, only to return in a moment to the dining hall.

"Have you the fidgets in your legs to-night, comte?" murmured young Monclair; "you do not seem to stay a second in one place."

"You are mistaken; I stayed a very long time at the lansquenet table," rejoined Léodgard, curtly.

"I' faith! my dear fellow, it is a delightful affair," said Sénange; "it is impossible to do things more handsomely or to entertain one's guests with more magnificence."

"I am very glad if you have had an enjoyable evening," said Léodgard; and his brow lost a few of its wrinkles.

"Vive Dieu! we should be most exacting if we did not think this supper perfectly exquisite; you did well to hire this little house, on my word! it seems to have been built expressly for parties of this sort."

"But you have never shown us the whole of your house. If I am not mistaken, there is another wing at the rear of the courtyard; does no one go there?"

"That is where I live," replied Léodgard, becoming serious once more; "but it is not arranged for the reception of company."

"Moreover, it is the mysterious wing!" cried Camilla, laughingly. "If I wish to be allowed to go there, I must notify monsieur le comte a long while beforehand."

"Hush, Camilla! a truce to your foolery!" said Léodgard, with a stern glance at the courtesan.

"Upon my word, you are gallant to-night!—Don't expect me to take your part another time when people say that you no longer seem cheerful!"

"Who said that?"

"Never mind! I am going to enter the lists with Flavia to make the conquest of the Black Chevalier."

Jarnonville had left the card table and had taken a seat in a less brilliantly lighted part of the room; but Mademoiselle Flavia, a young madcap with very eloquent eyes, bright and languorous in turn, soon seated herself beside him, and said:

"What are you doing in this corner? you look as if you were sulking, and that is not what people come here for. Come, say something to me. Do you know that you are not at all gallant—you have not said a single word to one of these ladies to-night!"

"As you see that I pay no attention to the ladies, why do you pay any attention to me?" retorted Jarnonville, meeting with absolute indifference the fire of the blonde Flavia's glances.

"Why?—Why, my dear man, do you know nothing of women?—For the very reason that you pay no attention to us, that you seem to scorn to win our favors, I long to make your conquest—from a spirit of contradiction! We always desire what is not offered us.—What is the meaning of this mania for playing the bear at your time of life? Come, tell me your troubles."

"You would not understand them!"

"What a boor!—Mon Dieu! I can guess them: you have been betrayed by your wife or your mistress—it is always that that makes you men misanthropic."

"I was sure that you would not understand me," said Jarnonville, rising; and he was about to turn away, when the dark-haired Camilla planted herself in front of him, with a smile on her face.

"How now, Sire de Jarnonville," she said; "can it be that you think of going already? Why, it is not daylight yet! We are going to sing, and dance chaconnes; will you not be my partner?"

"Such pleasures have not appealed to me for many years. Excuse me, fair Camilla; you are unfortunate in your choice."

"Oh! my dear, you will waste your glances and your smiles, as I have done!" cried the blonde Flavia, showing the double row of pearls with which her mouth was embellished. "Your sweetest tones will slide over that steel cuirass. This gentleman has a heart of granite—or, rather, he has no heart at all!—See, he is not listening to us, he is going away!"

"Oh! not yet!" rejoined Camilla, laying her pretty hand on Jarnonville's arm.—"Tell me, chevalier, why do you insist on going away? Do you find yourself so very wretched with us?—Look at us—are we so unpleasant to the eye that you cannot even endure the sight of us?"

The young courtesan uttered these words in such a cajoling,