two packs of cards, to be substituted for those which should be
furnished by the count. Ecarte was to be the game, and Olivier

was to play, the two other associates having pretended to know
nothing about the game, and saying that they would content

themselves by betting with each other. Of course Olivier was
rather surprised at this declaration, but he soon understood by

certain signs from Chauvignac that this reservation was intended
to do away with the count's suspicions, in case of their success.

The count, enormously" target="_blank" title="ad.巨大的，庞大的">enormously rich as he was, would only play for
bank-notes. 'Metal smells bad in a room,' he said. The novice,

at first confused at being a party to the intended roguery,
followed the dictates of his conscience and, neglecting the

advantages of his hands, trusted merely to chance. The result
was that the only thousand-franc bank-note he had was speedily

transferred to the count. At that moment Chauvignac gave him a
significant look, and this, together with the desire to retrieve

his loss, induced him to put into execution the culpable
manoeuvres which his friend had taught him. His work was of the

easiest; the count was so short-sighted that he had to keep his
nose almost upon the cards to see them. Chance now turned, as

might be expected, and thousand-franc bank-notes soon accumulated
in the hands of Olivier, who, intoxicated by this possession,

worked away with incredibleardour. Moreover, the count was not
in the least out of humour at losing so immensely; on the

contrary, he was quite jovial; indeed, from his looks he might
have been supposed to be the winner. At length, however, he said

with a smile, taking a pinch from his golden snuff-box--'I am
evidently not in vein. I have lost eighty thousand francs. I

see that I shall soon be in for one hundred thousand. But it is
proper, my dear sir, that I should say I don't make a habit of

losing more than this sum at a sitting; and if it must be so, I
propose to sup before losing my last twenty thousand francs.

Perhaps this will change my vein. I think you will grant me this
indulgence.' The proposal was agreed to.

Olivier, almost out of his senses at the possession of eighty
thousand francs, could not resist the desire of expressing his

gratitude to Chauvignac, which he did, grasping his hand with
emotion and leading him into a corner of the room.

Alas! the whole thing was only an infamousconspiracy to ruin the
young man. The Belgian capitalist, this count apparently so

respectable, was only an expert card-sharper whom Chauvignac had
brought from Paris to play out the vile tragi-comedy, the

denouement of which would be the ruin of the unfortunate Olivier.
At the moment when the latter left the card-table to go to

Chauvignac, the pretended millionnaire changed the pack of cards
they had been using for two other packs.

Supper went off very pleasantly. They drank very moderately, for
the head had to be kept cool for what had to follow. They soon

sat down again at the card-table. 'Now,' said the Parisian card-
shaper, on resuming his seat, 'I should like to end the matter

quickly: I will stake the twenty thousand francs in a lump.'
Olivier, confident of success after his previous achievement,

readily assented; but, alas, the twenty thousand francs of which
he made sure was won by his adversary.

Forty thousand francs went in like manner. Olivier, breathless,
utterly prostrate, knew not what to do. All his manoeuvres were

practised in vain; he could give himself none but small cards.
His opponent had his hands full of trumps, and HE dealt them to

him! In his despair he consulted Chauvignac by a look, and the
latter made a sign to him to go on. The wretched young man went

on, and lost again. Bewildered, beside himself, he staked
fabulous sums to try and make up for his losses, and very soon

found, in his turn, that he owed his adversary one hundred
thousand francs(L4166)!

At this point the horrible denouement commenced. The pretended
count stopped, and crossing his arms on his breast, said

sternly--'Monsieur Olivier de ----, you must be very rich to
stake so glibly such enormous sums. Of course you know your

fortune and can square yourself with it; but, however rich you
may be, you ought to know that it is not sufficient to lose a

hundred thousand francs, but that you must pay it. Besides, I
have given you the example. Begin, therefore, by putting down

the sum I have won from you; after which we can go on.' . . .
'Nothing can be more proper, sir,' stammered out young Olivier,

'I am ready to satisfy you; but, after all, you know that . . . .
gaming debts . . . . my word . . . .'

'The d--l! sir,' said the pretended count, giving the table a
violent blow with his fist--'Why do you talk to me about your

WORD. Gad! You are well entitled to appeal to the engagements
of honour! Well! We have now to play another game on this

table, and we must speak out plainly. Monsieur Olivier de ----,
you are a rogue . . . Yes, a rogue! The cards we have been

using are biseautees and YOU brought them hither.'
'Sir! . . You insult me!' said Olivier.

'Indeed? Well, sir, that astonishes me!' replied the false
Belgian ironically.

'That is too much, sir. I demand satisfaction, and that on the
very instant. Do you understand me? Let us go out at once.'

'No! no! We must end this quarrel here, sir. Look here--your
two friends shall be your "seconds;" I am now going to send for

MINE.'
The card-sharper, who had risen at these words, rang the bell

violently. His own servant entered. 'Go,' said he, 'to the
Procureur de Roi, and request him to come here on a very

important matter. Be as quick as you can.'
'Oh, sir, be merciful! Don't ruin me!' exclaimed the wretched

Olivier; 'I will do what you like.' At these words, the sharper
told his servant to wait behind the door, and to execute his

order if he should hear nothing to the contrary in ten minutes.
'And now, sir,' continued the sharper, turning to Olivier, 'and

now, sir, for the business between you and me. These cards have
been substituted by you in the place of those which I supplied .

. . You must do them up, write your name upon the cover, and
seal it with the coat of arms on your ring.'

Olivier looked first at Chauvignac and then at Chaffard, but both
the fellows only made signs to him to resign himself to the

circumstances. He did what was ordered.
'That is not all, sir,' added the false Belgian; 'I have fairly

won money from you and have a right to demand a guarantee for
payment. You must draw me short bills for the sum of one hundred

thousand francs.'
As the wretched young man hesitated to comply with this demand,

his pitilesscreditor rose to ring the bell.
'Don't ring, sir, don't ring,' said Olivier, 'I'll sign.'

He signed, and the villany was consummated. Olivier returned to
his family and made an humble avowal of his fault and his

engagements. His venerable father received the terrible blow
with resignation, and paid the 100,000 francs, estimating his

honour far above that amount of money.[3]
[3] This narrative is condensed from the account of the affair by

Robert-Hondin, Tricherics des Grecs devoilees.
AN ATTORNEY 'DONE' BY A GAMBLER.

A turfite and gambler, represented under the letters of Mr H--e,
having lost all his money at Doncaster and the following York

Meeting, devised a plan, with his coadjutor, to obtain the means
for their departure from York, which, no doubt, will be

considered exceedingly ingenious.
He had heard of an attorney in the town who was very fond of

Backgammon; and on this simple piece of information an elaborate
plan was concocted. Mr H--e feigned illness, went to bed, and