The game began. A large number of guests gathered round and admiringly criticised the play. Standing at the end of the long table, which was covered with a green cloth, the young woman threw her first quoit, which alighted near the white point representing the pin. Then the Emperor, showing even greater skill, dislodged it with his own quoit, which slipped into its place. The spectators softly applauded. However, it was Madame de Combelot who won in the end. 'What have we been playing for, sire?' she boldly inquired. The Emperor smiled, but made no reply. Then he turned round and said: 'Monsieur Rougon, will you have a game with me?' Rougon bowed and took up the quoits, while apologising for his unskilfulness at the game. A thrill of excitement ran through the spectators, who stood on either side of the table. Was Rougon really coming into favour again? The latent hostility which had encompassed him ever since his arrival now melted, and the guests bent forward and watched his quoits with an air of sympathy. M. La Rouquette, feeling still more perplexed than he had been before dinner, drew his sister aside to ask her what was the true state of affairs, but she was apparently unable to give him any satisfactory information, for he returned to the table making a gesture of perplexity. 'Ah, very good!' murmured Clorinde, as Rougon made a skilful cast. She darted meaning glances at those friends of the great man who were present. The opportunity seemed a favourable one for helping him back into the Emperor's good graces. She commenced the onset herself, and for a moment or two there was a burst of laudatory remarks. 'The deuce!' exclaimed Delestang, who could think of nothing else to say, though he was anxious to obey the mute command of his wife's eyes. 'And you pretended that you were a very poor player,' said Chevalier Rusconi delightedly. 'Ah, sire, pray don't play for France with him.' 'But Monsieur Rougon would treat France very well, I'm sure,' interposed M. Beulin-d'Orchère, with a meaning expression on his dog-like face. It was a direct hint. The Emperor deigned to smile; and he even laughed good-naturedly when Rougon, quite embarrassed by the compliments, modestly explained: 'Well, I used to play at pitch and toss when I was a boy.' On hearing his Majesty laugh, all the company did likewise; and for a moment the gallery rang with merriment. Clorinde, with her sharp wits, had realised that by admiring Rougon, who was in fact a very poor player, one really flattered the Emperor, who was incontestably his superior. M. de Plouguern, however, had not yet come forward, feeling a touch of jealousy at Rougon's success. So Clorinde went up to him and nudged his elbow as if by accident. He understood, her meaning, and warmly praised his colleague's next throw. Then M. La Rouquette made up his mind to risk everything, and exclaimed: 'Yes, that was beautiful, a delightfully soft throw!'