"Oh! I'm never astonished," said Bernardi, who had drunk a good deal of brandy before and after breakfast; "but I was thinking how lucky it was that I changed my mind last night about playing those three cards--the jack, ace, and queen." "How so?" asked Morito. "Well, if I had played the jack 'coppered,' and the ace and queen 'open,' last night, all the evening, I should have been entirely cleaned out; what do you think of that?" "I think you were very lucky in having played elsewhere," replied the Don; "but what's the matter with you? What makes you look at me so strangely?" "I want to find out whether it was you who sent a man to tell Dave Carter, the gambler, how I was playing, and to ask him to fix the cards so that I should lose all I had." Bernardi's voice was husky with liquor and anger, and he had evidently worked himself up into a great rage; but, in spite of his partial intoxication, he was very determined, and his tones foreboded no good-will to the Don. In a contest of words, however, he was no match for his opponent, and Don Pedro instantly took the most effectual method for quieting his visitor's suspicions. "My dear Pietro," he began, contemptuously, "I gave you credit for more common-sense than you seem disposed to claim for yourself. Why should I want you to lose? On the contrary, I would like to see you win enough to start in business for yourself, and repay me what I have loaned you, for I assure you that I much prefer to have you spend your money than mine. I have none too much for my own wants, and if you could repay me, I should be delighted. What is the reason for your question?" Bernardi did not reply for two or three minutes; he was evidently keenly scrutinizing Don Pedro's face; but at length he said: "Well, it's all right now, and I suppose I was wrong to suspect you; but the proprietor of the place where I gamble told me that some one had been trying to get him to play a trick on me, and I determined to find out who it was." "Well, Pietro, I don't think you would have thought of suspecting me if your head had not been fuddled with liquor. Why can't you stop drinking for a month or two?" "What do you care about my drinking?" asked Bernardi, in a half-cowed manner. "Because Pietro drunk is a very different fellow from Pietro sober; and some day you will let out some damaging reports about me, and then all hope of making anything here will be destroyed. If I could feel sure that you would remain sober, I would gladly start you in a good 'bank' here."