“Yes.”
“You rely on yours, as I rely on mine.”
“Yes.”
“Well, then, it occurred to me that we should play first for our money, and afterwards for the first favor which came to us, either from the court or from our mistress”—
“Really, a very ingenious idea,” said La Mole, with a smile, “but I confess I am not such a gamester as to risk my whole life on a card or a turn of the dice; for the first favor which may come either to you or to me will, in all probability, involve our whole life.”
“Well, let us drop out of account the first favor from the court and play for our mistress’s first favor.”
“I see only one objection to that,” said La Mole.
“What objection?”
“I have no mistress!”
“Nor I either. But I expect to have one soon. Thank God! we are not cut out to want one long!”
“Undoubtedly, as you say, you will have your wish, Monsieur de Coconnas, but as I have not the same confidence in my love-star, I feel that it would be robbery, I to pit my fortune against yours. But, if you will, let us play until your six crowns be lost or doubled, and if lost, and you desire to continue the game, you are a gentleman, and your word is as good as gold.”
“Well and good!” cried Coconnas, “that’s the talk! You are right, sir, a gentleman’s word is as good as gold, especially when he has credit at court. Thus, believe me, I did not risk too much when I proposed to play for the first favor we might receive.”
“Doubtless, and you might lose it, but I could not gain it; for, as I am with the King of Navarre, I could not receive anything from the Duc de Guise.”
“Ah, the heretic!” muttered the landlord as he was at work polishing up his old helmet, “I got on the right scent, did I?” And he stopped his work long enough to cross himself piously.
“Well, then,” continued Coconnas, shuffling the cards which the waiter had just brought him, “you are of the”—
“Of the what?”
“Of the new religion.”
“I?”
“Yes, you.”
“Well, say that I am,” said La Mole, with a smile, “have you anything against us?”
“Oh! thank God, no! It is all the same to me. I hate Huguenotry with all my heart, but I do not hate the Huguenots; besides, they are in fashion just now.”
“Yes,” replied La Mole, smiling; “to wit, the shooting at the admiral with an arquebuse; but supposing we have a game of arquebusades.”
“Anything you please,” said Coconnas, “provided I get to playing, it is all the same to me.”
“Well, let us play, then,” said La Mole, picking up his cards and arranging them in his hand.
“Yes, play ahead and with all confidence, for even if I were to lose a hundred crowns of gold against yours I shall have the wherewithal to pay you tomorrow morning.”
“Then your fortune will come while you are asleep.”
“No; I am going to find it.”
“Where? Tell me and I’ll go with you.”
“At the Louvre.”
“Are you going back there to-night?”
“Yes; to-night I have a private audience with the great Duc de Guise.”
As soon as Coconnas began to speak about going to seek his fortune at the Louvre, La Hurière stopped polishing his sallet and went and stood behind La Mole’s chair, so that Coconnas alone could see him, and made signs to him, which the Piedmontese, absorbed in his game and the conversation, did not notice.
“Well, it is miraculous,” remarked La Mole; “and you were right when you said that we were born under the same star. I have also an appointment at the Louvre to-night, but not with the Duc de Guise; mine is with the King of Navarre.”
“Have you a pass-word?”
“Yes.”
“A rallying sign?”
“No.”
“Well, I have one, and my pass-word is”—
As the Piedmontese was saying these words, La Hurière made such an expressive gesture that the indiscreet gentleman, who happened at that instant to raise his head, paused petrified more by the action than by the turn of the cards which had just caused him to lose three crowns.
La Mole looked around, but saw only his landlord standing behind him with folded arms and wearing on his head the sallet which he had seen him polishing the moment before.
“What is the matter, pray?” inquired La Mole of Coconnas.
Coconnas looked at the landlord and at his companion without answering, for he could make nothing out of Maître La Hurière’s redoubled gestures.
La Hurière saw that he must go to his aid:
“It is only that I am very fond of cards myself,” said he, speaking rapidly, “and I came closer to see the trick which made you gain, and the gentleman saw me with my war helmet on, and as I am only a poor bourgeois, it surprised him.”
“You make a fine figure, indeed you do!” cried La Mole, with a burst of laughter.
“Oh, sir,” replied La Hurière with admirably pretended good nature and a shrug of the shoulders expressive of his inferiority, “we poor fellows are not very valiant and our appearance is not elegant. It is all right for you fine gentlemen to wear glittering helmets and carry keen rapiers, and provided we mount guard strictly”—
“Aha!” said La Mole, taking his turn at shuffling the cards. “So you mount guard, do you?”
“Eh, mon Dieu, oui, Monsieur le Comte! I am sergeant in a company of citizen militia.”
After having said this while La Mole was engaged in dealing the cards, La Hurière withdrew, putting his finger on his lips as a sign of discretion for Coconnas, who was more amazed than ever.
This signal for caution was doubtless the reason that he lost almost as rapidly the second time as the first.
“Well,” observed La Mole, “this makes exactly your six crowns. Will you have your revenge on your future fortune?”
“Willingly,” replied Coconnas.
“But before you begin, did you not say you had an appointment with the Duc de Guise?”
Coconnas looked toward the kitchen, and saw the
