"Send him away--my familiar," he said with an awful smile, "No, no, Di Savelli--he is my luck; but I shall keep him at a distance if you like."
I rose and went down to Jacopo, and found him and Bande Nere already on friendly terms with the guard. I took my purse from him, and found time to whisper a warning to strike the moment he heard my whistle. When I came back, I was relieved to find the bear fastened by a chain to a ring in the wall. The chain itself was weak, and could have been snapped with ease, but the animal made no effort to strain at it, and lay down as contentedly as a dog. Baglioni had pulled a table into the centre of the room, and was seated at it, impatiently ruffling the cards.
"Back at last," he said, and his voice had lost its measured cadence, "heavens, I have not spread the cards for a whole year--what stakes?"
"Simply cutting the cards?"
"Yes. It is the quickest game I know."
"Say a crown each turn to begin with."
We cut through four times, and I paid over two crowns. Baglioni laughed as he put them on one side, "peddling stakes these, cavaliere--make them ten crowns a cut."
"Agreed--three cuts and a shuffle."
He nodded, and I paid ten crowns, feeling at this rate that my purse would soon be empty; but I saw that the fever was taking hold of him, and offered to double the stakes and won. From that moment luck favoured me, and at the end of half an hour's play the cavaliere had lost all his ready money, about sixty crowns, and owed me five hundred besides. He did not take his losses well, all the restrained self-command which he first exhibited, gave place to a wild excitement, and his hands shook as he shuffled the cards, his white face paling whiter than ever.
"Curse the cards!" he said, "I have no luck."