"So I may always count on you?"
"As on yourself, my dear friend."
These words were uttered by the two speakers with such delicately sharpened irony, that no one could have guessed, beneath the charming smile that played on their lips, the rage and hatred which swelled their hearts.
"Now," the general continued, "I believe we can return to the ballroom?"
"I am at your orders, general."
Don Sebastian opened the door of the room, and stood against the wall. The count passed him.
"Do you play, Don Louis?" the general asked him.
"Rarely; still, if you wish it, I shall be happy to cover your stake."
"This way then."
They entered a room in which several monte tables were established. The gamblers were collected before a table, at which a man, who had an enormous pile of gold before him, was enjoying extraordinary good luck. The man was Don Cornelio. After conversing for some time with Doña Angela, the Spaniard, attracted by the irresistible charm of gold, approached the monte tables, and, fascinated in spite of himself, he had risked the few ounces he possessed.