“How should she? She never saw any other except a one-eyed Pole, that taught her music at that Belgian school, and a sort of hairy dwarf, that gave lessons in drawing! A hundred and seventeen. It's your deal.”

“And he himself has no suspicion of his brother's death?” said Classon, as he gave out the cards.

“Not the slightest. He was trying to write a letter to him, to break the news of his marriage, only yesterday.”

“Cleverly done,—most cleverly done,” said Paul, in ecstasy. “If he had come to the knowledge, he might very possibly have refused her.”

“I rather—suspect—not,” said Grog, dwelling slowly on each word, while his countenance assumed an expression of fierce and terrible determination. “A lucky take in, that,—the queen of diamonds: it gives me seven cards. Refuse her! by Heaven, he'd have had a short experience of his peerage! Kings and knaves—six, and seven I play—twenty-three. Piqued again, Holy Paul! No, no; he'd never have dared that.”

Classon shook his head doubtingly.

“You might just as well tell me, Paul Classon, that you 'd refuse to marry them,” said Davis, as he struck the table with his clenched fist, “and that I would bear it! I have a way of not being denied what I have determined on; that has done me good service in life. That blear-eyed boy—the Attaché at the Legation in Frankfort—wanted to refuse me a passport for the Honorable Annesley Beecher and Mrs. Beecher, saying that, until the marriage, there was no such person. But I whispered a word to him across the table, and he gave it, and there it is now.”

“Going to Italy!” said Classon, as he read from the document which Grog had thrown down before him; “wonderful fellow,—wonderful fellow,—forgets nothing!” muttered he to himself.

“Yes, but he does, though; he has just forgotten four kings and suffered you to count four queens, Master Paul,—a tribute to your agreeability somewhat too costly.”

“Even to the travelling-carriage, Kit,” resumed Classon, not heeding the sarcasm; “and a more complete thing I never saw in my life. You picked it up at Frankfort.”