"This passes all bounds! He hasn't a sou, and he wants to enjoy himself in Paris! What an ignorant fool!--Ah! if you were not your cousin's cousin! what pleasure it would give me to thrash you, knave! to teach you to hang on my arm when your pockets are empty!--But the omelet will soon be here, and they will take it away again! That will be an outrage! Vertuchoux! at embarrassing moments one must be bold; fortune favors the brave!--another proverb. Let us stake all to win all!" And Passedix, turning to his neighbors the dice throwers, suddenly exclaimed: "Twelve! that's a good throw, but, damn the odds! I will stake six livres _tournois_ against monsieur!" The bourgeois who had just thrown the dice stared at the chevalier and rejoined: "You don't know the game; we have three dice, and the one who throws nearest to fifteen wins; I have thrown twelve; I have a great many chances in my favor, for anything above fifteen loses." "I know the game as well as the man who invented it; that doesn't prevent my saying that I will stake six livres _tournois_ against you." "Very good! I take your bet." "All right! agreed!--Now, it's your turn, monsieur, on whom I am betting." The other gambler, after casting a surprised glance at the Gascon, took the dicebox and shook it, saying: "Ah! you bet on me, do you, seigneur chevalier? Faith! I hope with all my heart that I may win for you." Cédrille turned toward his neighbors, curious to see the result of the wager. As for Passedix, he had risen, his long body towered above the table, but his eyes never swerved from the box in which the dice were; and his anxious expression, the way in which he twisted the ends of his cloak in his hands, and the trembling of his whole person, all tended to show how important it was to him that he should win the stake. At last the bourgeois threw the three dice on the table, and the sum of the points was only eleven. "Faith! that was rather near!" said the man who had thrown; "but it is not enough--I have lost!" "And you too, chevalier!" exclaimed the other; "come, hand over your rose crown--it was your own suggestion." Passedix, whose face had assumed a threatening aspect when he saw the result of the throw, slowly caressed his moustache and replied, dwelling on each word: "I have lost? that may be!--It was monsieur's fault for throwing badly." "What's that? I threw badly?" "Why, yes, to be sure; you shouldn't spend two hours shaking the dice in the box--it tires them, and they can only turn up small numbers!" "Ah! that's a pretty good one! I play as I please. Why did you bet on me? who forced you to?" "Oh! God bless me! enough of this! I have lost--that is all right; but I demand my revenge; I should say that that is one of the things no gentleman refuses." "Your revenge--very good! I agree!" "That is lucky for you! Sandis!" "Here, throw the dice yourself!" said the man who had lost, offering the Gascon the box; "then you cannot say that I play badly."