"'Admirable,' do you say—Yes, yes, Monsieur Olivier, that's the word. I wish you joy. Go on; give me some cards!"
"It is useless to go on. Trump, and then trump. I cut, and it is the king of diamonds, which stands good—this gives me the five points."
"Ah! ill-luck has certainly fastened on me this evening," said the Count, "that makes eighty thousand francs I have lost; I see I shall soon make up the hundred thousand.
"I think it right to tell you, that I never go beyond that sum, and that if I am to lose it, I shall propose having some supper before I lose my last twenty thousand. Perhaps, that may change my luck; you certainly owe me this much."
The proposition to sup, met with general approbation.
Olivier, almost out of his wits with joy, at becoming the possessor of eighty thousand francs, could not resist the impulse he felt to testify his feelings of gratitude to Chauvignac. He drew him aside, and shook him warmly by the hand.
The wretched man had no idea of the cruel deception which had been practised on him, and which had all been pre-arranged by his two comrades.
The rich Belgian capitalist, the respectable count, was no other than a clever Parisian sharper, whom Chauvignac had persuaded to come, for the express purpose of ruining the unfortunate young man, who never perceived, whilst his back was turned, that the count changed the two packs of clipped cards which they had hitherto used, for two packs biseautées in the contrary way.
During supper they drank but little, wishing to keep their heads clear. The meal, nevertheless, was very merry; and as soon as it was over, they recommenced playing.
"Now," said the Parisian sharper, seating himself at the table, "I wish to end this affair one way or other, quickly. Let us make the stake twenty thousand francs (800l.)."