"You are mistaken, Joseph," he said, kindly, "and your vivid imagination has led you astray. I got up this morning at five o'clock simply to go to my club, where, for a reason which, with your permission, I will keep to myself, I wish to arrive calm and collected, after a few hours' sleep. You may come with me, if that will ease your mind. As regards my pistols, I desire, in anticipation of this expedition, to practice my shooting every day, and you can take them to the shooting-gallery in the course of the morning. And now that my frank explanations have restored you to your usual serenity, perhaps you will have the goodness to bring in the soup and claret I ordered, and once more resume that engaging manner which becomes you so well." This last suggestion was superfluous, for a smile was once more visible on Joseph's lips. A quarter of an hour afterwards M. de Morin ascended the staircase of his club, passed through an entrance hall where two servants lay asleep on the benches, and entered the only room which at that moment was occupied. It was the room devoted, as in most clubs, to baccarat. Along the walls were to be seen roomy couches, whereon to repose from the excitement of play, and where, when the cards were adverse, the unlucky player could snatch a moment or two of sleep whilst waiting for a change of luck. In one corner was placed a table, at which a confidential servant sat, elevated, so to speak, to the dignity of cashier. His duty was to give the player, on demand, counters of all sorts, sizes, and colours, which were intended to represent certain amounts, from the highest to the lowest. Indeed, in all well conducted clubs, it is not customary to have the tables covered with gold or bank notes. These are represented by counters, or fish, in exchange for which, on the following day, as soon as each loser has paid his losses, the cashier hands over their money value. Gambling debts must be paid, not within forty-eight hours, as is generally understood, but really within a limit of sixty hours. This term passed, the member of the club who has lost his counters, if he has not handed in their corresponding value in money, is subject to a penalty which is termed "being posted" and consists in his name being written up on a board hung in the principal room of the club. This punishment is very rarely carried into effect. The unlucky gambler, who has lost more than he can pay, can generally count upon the forbearance of his creditor, and comes to some arrangement with him. If he does not succeed in doing that, his name, after being posted for a moment only, is rubbed out. He _ipso facto_ no longer belongs to the club, and his reputation is thereby seriously damaged. These details are necessary in order to comprehend the scene which was on the point of being enacted between M. de Morin and the young doctor, called Delange, whom he had undertaken to secure as a travelling companion in the expedition.