"Lost!" the young lady said for the third time, in her harmonious voice.
"Caramba! This is really singular. I owe you 14,000 piastres, Don Louis. I allow that you have really extraordinary fortune."
"I know it," the count answered, still perfectly cool; "and now permit me to leave you. Señorita, accept my grateful thanks for the kind assistance you granted me in this matter."
The young lady bowed, ashamed and blushing,
"Tomorrow, at daybreak, the 14,000 piastres will be at your house, Don Louis."
"Do not hurry yourself, general; I shall have the honour of seeing you again."
The count thereupon took leave, and withdrew with Don Cornelio, obsequiously accompanied to the door of the last room by the general.
"Double traitor!" the count muttered, as he mounted. "Take care of yourself, for now I see your game. In spite of your cunning, you have let me read your thoughts."
The count, followed by his escort, thoughtfully returned to the house he inhabited. He was reflecting on the means to be employed in foiling the machinations of his enemies, and carrying out his expedition successfully. As for Don Cornelio, he only thought of one thing—the luck he had had during the evening; and, while galloping by Don Louis' side, he mentally calculated the number of ounces he had gained, of which fact he had not yet been able to assure himself satisfactorily.