“Fénélon, whose reliance on his own resources was proverbial, seated himself at the long roulette table with perfect ease and confidence, while M. de Talleyrand, who knew the deplorable state of his friend’s finances at the time, stood behind him, trembling for his fate, and watching with anxiety every roll of the balls, every slide of the shovel. One—two—three passes had been played, however, and the chevalier, according to his own anticipation, won on, consulting at each call from the croupier the slip of paper which he held in his hand, and upon which were scrawled his calculations concerning the chances of the game. This success did not at first attract any extraordinary attention. Examples of luck in the outset were but too common; but when hit after hit was made, and still the chance remained the same, whispers began to float around the table that all was not fair and as it should be. The chevalier heeded not the effect that his extraordinary run of luck had produced, but continued in silence to sweep the gold into a heap before him, regarding perhaps with an undue share of that malicious enjoyment in which it was his wont to indulge, the astonishment and discomfiture of his opponents. “It was evident that this state of things could not last long; the murmurs of the players, the manifest terror of the bankers, were beginning to disturb the game, when presently one of the croupiers came between the friends, and with pale and trembling lips whispered in the ear of the winner a few words which made him start. A warm conversation, still in the same mysterious whisper, was for a few moments carried on between them; and finally, after various signs of supplication on the part of the croupier, and of doubt and hesitation on the part of the chevalier, it was announced to the assembled players that M. de Fénélon would retire from the contest upon payment of the sum still left in the bank, which could be subscribed among them, and thus diminish the loss to each so as to be scarcely felt by any. “This singular proposition, unheard of in the annals of the gaming-table, was received with the most profound indignation and astonishment on the part of the losers, but Fénélon himself undertook to prove that they could not lose, but must be the gainers, as his _reine_ would most assuredly break the bank at the next roll of the balls. After some few uncouth exclamations on the part of the gentlemen, and a little pouting on the part of the ladies, the matter was carried. Fénélon was ‘paid off’ by a subscription, and dismissed with many a muttered curse from the honest and reputable assembly.