It was Junker Jevgen, Araktseieff's son and young hopeful.
"Ah!" cried his father, "you have got into some other ugly scrape, sir!"
"Au contraire, governor! Mistaken for once."
"Your appearance rarely means anything else. Have you anything of importance to say to me?"
"Oh, nothing of a nature that I cannot say before Herr Sujukin."
"I suppose some pressing money difficulty?"
"Au contraire," returned the young man, carelessly throwing himself back upon a couch, and ostentatiously drawing out a handful of gold from his pocket. "You see it is not that which brought me."
"By Jove! you have lined your pockets well. May I inquire the source of this plenty?"
"Why not? No need to conceal it from Herr Sujukin. I won it a night or two ago at rouge-et-noir."
"So! At nights, when you are intrusted with the inspection, you can manage to find time for the faro-bank?"