“It is I who am honoured,” replied the young man, bringing back his chair to its normal position; “but I hope that our opponents will not object to my making sure that I am still solvent. I confess that I feel somewhat doubtful on the point.” He laughed, plunged a hand into his breeches pocket, and pulled out five louis d’or. “Then we shall make your pockets as empty as Vergniaud’s last speech,” said the Chevalier de Saint Louis, with the air of one contributing a witty remark. But his partner was recounting his gains, the _noir_ was dealing very slowly and methodically, and the player in grey, with his hands in his depleted pockets, was looking a little abstractedly round the room. “A thousand pardons!” he exclaimed, as the Chevalier touched his arm; “I did not know that you were ready. Is it my turn to stake?” The _noir_ nodded, and the possessor of five louis pushed three of them towards the centre of the table. The slim hand, however, never reached the little rosewood centre of its goal, for it was arrested by the sudden opening of the heavily gilded folding-door. “Monsieur le Marquis de Château-Foix!” announced the strident voice of a lackey. The arrival sufficed to divert most people’s attention. As for the _noir’s_ partner, he had sprung to his feet, upsetting his chair, his gaze riveted upon the newcomer. “Gilbert! as I live!” he exclaimed in accents of the profoundest astonishment. For the handsome player in grey was no other than Louis-Adrien-Marie-Hyacinthe de Chantemerle, Vicomte de Saint-Ermay, and a visitor from the shades could not have surprised him more. For a moment the Marquis stood on the threshold, a tall dark figure, glancing swiftly round the company with an air of quiet self-possession. Then he moved forward to take the outstretched hand of the Comte de Larny, who had hurried from the other side of the room. “This is indeed a surprise,” said the latter—“and a pleasure!” he hastened to add with effusion. The Marquis bowed slightly. He was perfectly aware of the falsity of the last statement. No one of his Liberal views was likely to be popular in the present assembly—nay, would probably be regarded as something worse than a Jacobin. Since M. de Larny was also aware of this fact, his usually suave manner became a little flustered, but, as he had every wish to be polite to the cousin of his kinsman Saint-Ermay, he caught hold of the two nearest guests and presented them to the newcomer. By this time the Vicomte had definitely abandoned his game (which at one moment he had seemed to have a wish to continue) and had advanced to greet his cousin. The Marquis was exchanging civilities with an acquaintance, but as the young man approached he broke off, and held out his hand with a smile. “I want a word or two with you presently, Louis,” he said carelessly, and resumed his conversation.