Nothing could have been more delightful than the charming and accomplished conversation of his hospitable entertainer, who, when the long succession of various viands was at length exhausted, proposed that they should repair to an upper room and commence their game.
Delighted as Eligio had been with his extraordinary entertainment, he was yet burning to try his luck with his obliging host, and accordingly followed him with alacrity to a divan spread on the roof, having for its only covering a leafy pergola[88], and lighted by lamps contrived with such art that they seemed to be the very bunches of grapes themselves which gave the rays.
The cards were brought, and the friends set to work. The first game was a long one; the host seemed to be in great fear of not succeeding, and pondered every throw. Eligio played in his own rough-and-ready style, expecting luck to come as it always had—he never troubled himself how.
But this time luck did not come to him, and his entertainer was the winner! The stakes were large, but his hospitable friend had been so urbane throughout, that he could not show any ill-will. His attendants were called in, and paid the debt.
The winner put up the cards as though he did not wish to play again.
“Come, you must give me my revenge,” said Eligio.
“Oh, certainly, if you wish it,” he replied; and they played again. This time Eligio paid more attention to his style, and calculated every card he played; but it was of no use, he was beaten again. Caring more for the disappointment than the loss, he saw the money counted out without a sigh; but the unusual sense of having been overcome rankled in his mind. He had offered to play high because it seemed required by the princely character of the house where he had been so sumptuously received; and of all the treasure he had brought with him, and of all he had won through a day’s undeviating luck, there only remained enough to repeat the stakes. Nevertheless he pledged the same sum once more, and they played again.
This time fortune seemed to have come back to him. All went right up to the end; Eligio’s heart felt lightened. So luck was coming back, was it? He played with an interest which he had almost ceased to find—but his adversary threw down his last card which reversed every thing, and once more he was the winner!
Eligio called in his followers, and ordered them to pay out the last farthing of his treasure; but even this distressed him less than having nothing more to stake, whereby to have a chance of retrieving his luck. “Let be,” said his new friend, soothingly; “perhaps to-morrow your luck will turn. Come down with me to supper, and have a quiet night’s rest, and think no more about the play.”
“I can’t rest, and I can’t eat!” said Eligio; “I can do nothing till my luck turns. I must stake something. Ah! there’s my horse—but that’s not enough. Put along with it all my retainers. If I lose, they shall be yours, and serve you.”