Having arrived on the second floor, Cherami heard the strains of another orchestra; he passed through a large room where he saw nothing but men's hats hanging on hooks, and immediately hung up his own and placed his cane beside it. "I must show my breeding," he said to himself; "one doesn't appear at a wedding party as at a messroom. Ah! what do I see in that corner? a very fine yellow glove, on my word! Pardieu! it arrives most opportunely! It's for the left hand, but, no matter: I can keep the other in my pocket. It fits me, it really fits me beautifully! What a pity that the man who dropped it didn't drop the right-hand one too! No matter; this one gives a sort of dressed-up, coquettish air, which sets off the wearer. I will keep my right hand under the tail of my coat--nay, I will skilfully hold both tails in my hand, and people will think I'm in full dress. Forward, charge their guns!" Cherami passed into a second room, which was occupied by card-players: there were two tables of whist and one of ecarte. With the exception of two elderly women at one of the whist tables, there were only men in the room; and as they were all busily engaged in playing, or watching the play, nobody noticed the arrival of the party in plaid trousers. Cherami smiled at everybody, although he saw no one whom he knew; there were very few persons about the whist tables--only one or two enthusiasts watching the games--so that one could easily approach them. It was not the same with the ecarte table; there was a crowd of young men about it, and it was very difficult to see their hands. Cherami walked about for some minutes, daintily scratching the end of his nose with his gloved hand, and holding the other behind his back, under the skirt of his coat. Suddenly one of the players cried: "Twenty francs lacking! Come, gentlemen; who'll make it good?" "Not I, by a long shot!" said a young man, turning toward Cherami; "they're having extraordinary luck! They have passed six times over there! But I know Minoret; he's a lucky dog! When he sets about it, he's quite capable of passing twenty times in succession." "Still twenty francs lacking," the same voice repeated; "who makes it good?" "I," cried Cherami, in a loud voice. "I make it good; I trust to Monsieur Minoret's luck." This remark attracted general attention to Cherami. The young men scrutinized him, then smiled, and said to one another: "Who the deuce is this fellow?" "What an extraordinary figure!" "And his dress is even more extraordinary. Who ever heard of going to a wedding in plaid trousers and waistcoat!" "And they're far from new." "He wasn't at the supper, I'm sure." "No. I would like right well to know who he is. He seems to know Minoret." A moment later, the player addressed as Minoret spoke again: "Well! who is it who makes good the twenty francs? Why doesn't he put up the money?"