"Let us call it seven, and stop at that!" said Dubourg.
The dinner came to an end. Monsieur Chambertin had but one regret—that his friend Durosey, whom he had been expecting from Paris for several days, had not arrived. Every time that he heard friend Durosey's name, Dubourg said to himself:
"I used to know someone of that name in Paris; but where in the devil did I know him?"
He asked Chambertin who this Monsieur Durosey might be.
"He's a wholesale merchant, who has just retired from business with twenty thousand francs a year."
"In that case," thought Dubourg, "it can't be the man I knew, for I never associated with wholesale merchants."
They returned to the salon, where a rich landowner, who was very fond of écarté, seemed inclined to try his luck against monsieur le baron, when Lunel announced that Monsieur Durosey had arrived. Chambertin was delighted; he left the room, and soon returned with his friend, whom he introduced to the assembled company. Dubourg glanced at the new-comer and recognized the former keeper of a restaurant in Paris, to whom he owed a matter of four hundred francs, which had been standing two years, and which he had not found himself in a position to pay. Monsieur Chambertin, through vanity, had represented him as a wholesale merchant instead of a retired restaurant keeper.
The meeting was exceedingly disagreeable to Dubourg, but he did not lose his head; and when Chambertin came forward with Durosey, saying: "I present you to Monsieur le Baron de Potoski, a Polish palatine," Dubourg bowed and smirked, blinking his eyes, twisting his mouth, and making such grimaces that it was improbable that his creditor could recognize him.
Monsieur Durosey did not stop in front of Dubourg, who felt more at ease and resumed his game more tranquilly. From time to time, however, he glanced about the salon, and when he met his former entertainer's eye he fancied that the latter was scrutinizing him carefully; whereupon he resumed his facial contortions and grimacing, and tried to affect a sort of Saint Vitus's dance by constantly twisting his nose and mouth toward his left ear.
But his creditor's presence annoyed and embarrassed him; he could not pay attention to his game, he lost his head completely, and his money slowly but surely passed into his adversary's possession. Dubourg suggested doubling, then trebling, the stakes; the rich squire agreed, for he could not refuse monsieur le baron. A large part of the company stood about the table, which was covered with five-hundred-franc notes; and Monsieur Durosey planted himself exactly in front of Dubourg, who could not raise his eyes without meeting his creditor's, and who, to fill his cup to the brim, had the worst possible luck. In half an hour, the travelling fund had passed into other hands, and Dubourg rose, saying that he was going to get some more money.