"All very well," said his friend; "but meantime, how am I to get out of this fix?" "Have you anything of value you could raise money on, if it were but twenty, ten, or even five francs?" "Alas!" said the young fellow, "there is only my watch ..." "Silver or gold?" "Gold." "Gold! What did it cost?" "Two hundred francs; but I shall hardly get sixty for it, and the bill of exchange is for five hundred francs." "Go and take your watch to the Mont-de-Piété." "And then?" "Bring back the money they give you for it here." "Well?" "You must give me half of it." "After that?" "Then I will tell you what you must do.... Go, and be sure you do not divert a single son of the amount!" "The deuce! I shall not think of doing that," said the friend. And off he ran and returned presently with seventy francs. This was a good beginning. Gannot took it and put it with a grand flourish into his pocket. "What are you doing?" asked his friend. "You will soon see." "I thought you said we were to halve it ..." "Later ... meanwhile it is six o'clock; let us go and have dinner." "How are we to dine?" "My dear fellow, decent folk must have their dinner and dine well in order to give themselves fresh ideas." And Gannot took his way towards the Palais-Royal, accompanied by the young man. When there, he entered the Frères-Provençaux. The youth tried faintly to drag Gannot away by the arm, but the latter pinched his hand tight as in a vice and the young man was obliged to follow. Gannot chose the menu and dined valiantly, to the great uneasiness of his friend; the more dainty the dishes the more he left on his plate untasted. The future Mapah ate enough for both. The Rabelaisian quarter of an hour arrived, and the bill came to thirty-five francs. Gannot flung a couple of louis on the table. They were going to give him the change. "Keep it--the five francs are for the waiter," he said. The young man shook his head sadly. "That is not the way," he muttered below his breath, "to pay my bill of exchange." Gannot did not appear to notice either his murmurs or his headshakings. They went out, Gannot walking in front, with a toothpick in his mouth; the friend followed silently and gloomily, like some resigned victim. When they reached _la Rolonde_, Gannot sat down, drew a chair within his friend's reach, struck the marble table with the wood of the framework that held the daily paper, ordered two cups of coffee, an inn-full of assorted liqueurs and the best cigars they possessed. The total amounted to five francs. There were then but twenty-five francs left over from the seventy. Gannot put ten in his friend's hand and restored the remaining fifteen to his pocket. "What now?" asked his friend. "Take the ten francs," replied Gannot; "go upstairs to that house you see opposite, No. 113; be careful not to mistake the storey, whatever you do!" "What is the house?" "It is a gambling-house." "I shall have to play, then?"