“What business?” queried the other, starting.
“That you are carrying on as sergeant of the Guards; for which you are to meet a man, this evening, under the Palais Royal arcades.”
“Oh, my lord,” moaned Beausire, turning pale as a corpse and wringing his hands. “Do not destroy me!”
“Why, you are going distracted now? Am I the Chief of Police to ruin you?”
“There, I told you, you are getting into a pretty pickle,” exclaimed Nicole. “I know nothing about it, my lord, but whenever he hides any game from me, I know it is a bad one.”
“But you are wrong, my dear lady, for this is an excellent speculation.”
“Is it not?” cried the gambler. “The count, as a nobleman, understands that all the nobility are in this scheme——“
“For it to succeed. It must be allowed though, that the people are interested in its failure. If you will believe me, captain—you understand that a friend is giving advice—you will take no part in it for the peers or the people. Better act for yourself.”
“Certainly, for yourself,” said Nicole. “Blest if you have not toiled long enough for others: so that it is high time you looked after Number One.”
“You hear the lady, who speaks like a born orator. Bear this in mind, Friend Beausire, all spec’s have a good and a bad side, one for the winners, one for the losers: no affair however good, can benefit everybody; the whole trouble is to hit on the right side.”