‘The first place we went to was Aix-la-Chapelle, for Mr. Brooke was named something—I forget what—to Lord Sandwich, that was going there as an Ambassador.
It was a grand life there while it lasted. Such liveries, such coaches, such elegant dinners every day, I never saw even in Paris. But my master was soon sent away for a piece of wildness he did. There was an ould Austrian there—a Count Riedensegg was his name—-and he was always plottin’ and schamin’ with this, that, and the other; buyin’ up the sacrets of others, and gettin’ at their private papers one way or the other; and at last he begins to thry the same game with us; and as he saw that Mr. Brooke was very fond of high play, and would bet anything one offered him, the ould count sends for a great gambler from Vienna, the greatest villain, they say, that ever touched a card. Ye may have heerd of him, tho’ ‘twas long ago that he lived, for he was well known in them times. He was the Baron von Breokendorf, and a great friend afterwards of the Prince Ragint and all the other blaguards in London.
‘Well, sir, the baron arrives in great state, with despatches, they said, but sorrow other despatch he carried nor some packs of marked cards, and a dice-box that could throw sixes whenever ye wanted; and he puts up at the Grand Hotel, with all his servants in fine liveries and as much state as a prince. That very day Mr. Brooke dined with the count, and in the evening himself and the baron sits down to the cards; and, pretending to be only playin’ for silver, they were bettin’ a hundred guineas on every game.
‘I always heerd that my master was cute with the cards, and that few was equal to him in any game with pasteboard or ivory; but, be my conscience, he met his match now, for if it was ould Nick was playin’ he couldn’t do the thrick nater nor the baron. He made everything come up just like magic: if he wanted a seven of diamonds, or an ace of spades, or the knave of clubs, there it was for you.
‘Most gentlemen would have lost temper at seein’ the luck so dead agin’ them, and everything goin’ so bad; but my master only smiled, and kept muttering to himself, “Faix, its beautiful; by my conscience its elegant; I never saw anybody could do it like that.” At last the baron stops and asks, “What is it he’s saying to himself?” “I’ll tell you by-and-by,” says my master, “when we’re done playing”; and so on they went, betting higher and higher, till at last the stakes wasn’t very far from a thousand pounds on a single card. At the end, Mr. Brooke lost everything, and in the last game, by way of generosity, the baron says to him, “Double or quit?” and he tuk it.
‘This time luck stood to my master, and he turned the queen of hearts; and as there was only one card could beat him, the game was all as one as his own. The baron takes up the pack, and begins to deal. “Wait,” says my master, leaning over the table, and talking in a whisper; “wait,” says he; “what are ye doin’ there wid your thumb?” for sure enough he had his thumb dug hard into the middle of the pack.
‘"Do you mane to insult me?” says the baron, getting mighty red, and throwing down the cards on the table. “Is that what you’re at?”
‘"Go on with the deal,” says Mr. Brooke quietly; “but listen to me,” and here he dropped his voice to a whisper, “as sure as you turn the king of hearts, I’ll send a bullet through your skull! Go on, now, and don’t rise from that seat till you ‘ve finished the game.” Faix he just did as he was bid; he turned a little two or three of diamonds, and gettin’ up from the table, he left the room, and the next morning there was no more seen of him in Aix-la-Chapelle. But that wasn’t the end of it, for scarce was the baron two posts on his journey when my master sends in his name, and says he wants to speak to Count Riedensegg. There was a long time and a great debatin’, I believe, whether they’d let him in or not; for the count couldn’t make if it was mischief he was after; but at last he was ushered into the bedroom where the other was in bed.
‘"Count,” says he, after he fastened the door, and saw that they was alone, “Count, you tried a dirty thrick with that dirty spalpeen of a baron—an ould blaguard that’s as well known as Preney the robber—but I forgive you for it all, for you did it in the way of business. I know well what you was afther; you wanted a peep at our despatches—there, ye needn’t look cross and angry—why wouldn’t ye do it, just as the baron always took a sly glance at my cards before he played his own. Well, now, I’m just in the humour to sarve you. They’re not trating me as they ought here, and I’m going away, and if you’ll give me a few letthers to some of the pretty women in Vienna, Katinka Batthyani, and Amalia Gradoffseky, and one or two men in the best set, I’ll send you in return something that will surprise you.”
‘It was after a long time and great batin’ about the bush, that the ould count came in; but the sight of a sacret cipher did the business, and he consented.