“They are making perquisitions everywhere the last few days,” said the youth, abashed by the tone and manner of the question. “Ah! so they are--very true. I beg your pardon,” cried Linton, affecting a smile. “We are so intent upon our game here, that one actually forgets what is occurring in the greater game that is playing without.” “If there 's to be no more play I 'm off to bed,” yawned Frobisher, as he stretched himself along the chairs. A group had meanwhile gathered round a table where refreshments and wine were laid out, and were invigorating themselves for the coming campaign. “I remember the last _séance_ with closed doors I assisted at,” said a handsome middle-aged man, with a gray moustache, and short-cut gray hair, “was in the stable at Fontainebleau. We played for seventeen hours, and when we separated we discovered that the Empire was at an end, and the Emperor departed!” “We might do something of the same kind now, Blancharde,” said another; “it would be no difficult matter, I fancy, to play an old dynasty out and a new one in at this moment.” “Hush, Rozlan! Marsac is not one 'of us,'” whispered the former, cautiously. “He 's going the shortest way to become so, notwithstanding. Nothing enlarges the sphere of political vision like being ruined! One always becomes liberal, in the political sense, when it is impossible to be so in any other!” The chatting now turned on the events that were then impending, a great diversity of opinion existing as to whether the King would insist upon carrying the “ordinances,” and a still wider divergence as to what result would follow. During this discussion, Frobisher's impatience went beyond all control, and at last he rose, declaring that he would remain no longer. “You forget that the doors are locked for twenty-four hours, sir,” said another, “and neither can any one leave or enter the room before that time.” “We are more sacred than a privy council or a chapter of the knights of St. Louis,” said Rozlan. “Now then to see who is the next Duc de Marlier!” whispered Linton in Rica's ear. “Let us begin.” “One word with you, Linton,” whispered Rica; “don't bet high, it distracts my attention,--make a mere game of amusement, for this will be a hard struggle, and it must be the last.” “So I perceive,” rejoined Linton; “events are coming fast; we must be off ere the tide overtake us.” “The game, the game!” cried Frobisher, striking the table with his rake. “And Maritaña?” whispered Linton, holding Rica by the arm. The other grew lividly pale, and his lip quivered as he said, “Is this the time, Linton--” “It is the very time,” rejoined the other, determinedly, “and I will have my answer now. You cannot equivocate with me.” “I do not seek to do so. I have told you always what I tell you still--I cannot coerce her.” “There will be no need; this dukedom will do the business. I know her well--better than you do. See, they are watching us yonder. Say the word at once--it is agreed.”