Morphy would not announce his arrival on his first visit, preferring to postpone it until the following day. When it was known that the so much looked-for player was in Paris, the excitement was great; Frenchmen live for excitement. M. de Rivière had not been there lately, but we found Messrs. Lecrivain, Journoud, Guibert, and numbers of knight and rook-players. The first-named gentleman, by general request, offered himself as the initiatory sacrifice, accepting the odds of pawn and two moves, and managed to score some two games to Morphy's six or seven. Then M. de Rivière arrived, and getting the move, played the Ruy Lopez, which eventuated in "a draw;" and he was subsequently followed by M. Journoud, who, though one of the best French players, failed to score a victory. Morphy had made his mark, and everybody looked forward to the arrival of Herr Harrwitz, when they hoped to see fun. CHAPTER IX. THE MATCH BETWEEN MORPHY AND HARRWITZ. Saturday came, and so did Harrwitz. We found him a little man, of about forty, with finely-developed head, and large, piercing black eyes. In conversation, he is exceedingly witty and "cool," and many are the good things told of him. Some of my readers will remember the rebuke he gave Mr. Staunton, when playing his celebrated match with that gentleman. Harrwitz had made a move which caused much reflection to his opponent, who rolled about on his chair and stroked his forehead energetically, as only Mr. Staunton can do, giving spectators the impression that his brain was in an agony of labor. He examined the position, and re-examined it; but, the more he looked, the less he liked it. Savage at being balked, he exclaimed--"Well, I've lost a move," and thereupon played a piece. Harrwitz coolly rises from his seat, rings the bell frantically, and gives the following order: "Waiter, look about for a move; Mr. Staunton has lost one." [Illustration: HERR ANDERSSEN. M. SAINT AMANT. HERR HARRWITZ.] There is probably no man living who plays so much chess as Herr Harrwitz. All great chess players I know of, are great _lie-a'beds_, and he is no exception to the rule. His night-gear and he part company many hours after sunrise, and he starts forthwith for the Café de la Régence, where he plays, with only a slight intermission for dinner, until he goes home to bed again. His opponents are generally visitors to the café, not the habitués; for these last have taken great dislike to his very offensive manner, and will not contend with him. They say, too, that he evinces an improper desire to win, and, in consequence, will only give the odds of pawn and move, when he could well afford pawn and two, and the knight instead of the rook. In my character of historian, I am bound to state that the feeling was very intense at the Régence in favor of Morphy, and many the prayers (_French_ prayers) that Harrwitz might succumb to him.