“‘And mine for two hundred and ten,’ says Bloundell-Bloundell, and he pulls out his bit of paper.
“I was in such a rage of wonder at this, that I sprang out of bed, and wrapped my dressing-gown round me. ‘Are you come here to make a fool of me?’ says I. ‘I don’t owe you two hundred, or two thousand, or two louis; and I won’t pay you a farthing. Do you suppose you can catch me with your notes of hand? I laugh at ’em and at you; and I believe you to be a couple——.’
“‘A couple of what?’ says Mr. Bloundell. ‘You, of course, are aware that we are a couple of men of honour, Colonel Altamont, and not come here to trifle or to listen to abuse from you. You will either pay us or we will expose you as a cheat, and chastise you as a cheat, too,’ says Bloundell.
“‘Oui, parbleu,’ says the Marky,—but I didn’t mind him, for I could have thrown the little fellow out of the window; but it was different with Bloundell,—he was a large man, that weighs three stone more than me, and stands six inches higher, and I think he could have done for me.
“‘Monsieur will pay, or Monsieur will give me the reason why. I believe you’re little better than a polisson, Colonel Altamont,’—that was the phrase he used—Altamont said with a grin—and I got plenty more of this language from the two fellows, and was in the thick of the row with them, when another of our party came in. This was a friend of mine—a gent I had met at Boulogne, and had taken to the Countess’s myself. And as he hadn’t played at all on the previous night, and had actually warned me against Bloundell and the others, I told the story to him, and so did the other two.
“‘I am very sorry,’ says he. ‘You would go on playing: the Countess entreated you to discontinue. These gentlemen offered repeatedly to stop. It was you that insisted on the large stakes, not they.’ In fact he charged dead against me: and when the two others went away, he told me how the Marky would shoot me as sure as my name was—was what it is. ‘I left the Countess crying, too,’ said he. ‘She hates these two men; she has warned you repeatedly against them’ (which she actually had done, and often told me never to play with them), ‘and now, Colonel, I have left her in hysterics almost, lest there should be any quarrel between you, and that confounded Marky should put a bullet through your head. It’s my belief,’ says my friend, ‘that that woman is distractedly in love with you.’
“‘Do you think so?’ says I; upon which my friend told me how she had actually gone down on her knees to him and ‘Save Colonel Altamont!’
“As soon as I was dressed, I went and called upon that lovely woman. She gave a shriek and pretty near fainted when she saw me. She called me Ferdinand,—I’m blest if she didn’t.”
“I thought your name was Jack,” said Strong, with a laugh; at which the Colonel blushed very much behind his dyed whiskers.
“A man may have more names than one, mayn’t he, Strong?” Altamont asked. “When I’m with a lady, I like to take a good one. She called me by my Christian name. She cried fit to break your heart. I can’t stand seeing a woman cry—never could—not whilst I’m fond of her. She said she could bear not to think of my losing so much money in her house. Wouldn’t I take her diamonds and necklaces, and pay part?