"A bad idea, Count. Pay your servants, and they leave you at once; it is such a bourgeois thing to do." "We walk, then?" inquired d'Epernon. "I am sure we must be going to do so when M. de Gêvres addresses M. de Mailly upon the care of servants. Monsieur le Marquis--your servant." Richelieu and the Baron were already at the door. D'Epernon and Henri followed. There was nothing for it but for the third Duke to accept the companionship of the Count, and prepare to ruin his surtout also. As the small party passed out of the door of the café, Richelieu called over his shoulder: "Your horse is here, Claude. I had mine sent to my _hôtel_. Surely you will not attempt to ride back to Versailles to-night. Will you lodge with me?" "Thank you; but Henri will house me, I think--will you not, cousin?" "Certainly, Claude. Madame will scarcely have any one in my wing to-night, I think; though I confess that I have not been there for a week." "A bad idea," muttered Richelieu to the Baron. "I kept my ladies in better training--when I had them." It was fifteen minutes' rapid walk from the Procope to the Hôtel de Gêvres. From the Quai des Tournelles the six proceeded to the Pont St. Michel, over the river, across the island, and to the new city by the Pont au Change, at the east end of which, near the Place du Chat, stood the most recent and most noted gambling-house in Paris. Three or four lanterns, shining dimly through the dripping night, lighted the doorways, which were open to the weather. Richelieu, d'Holbach, d'Epernon, and Henri entered together, with Claude and de Gêvres close behind. It was Richelieu who accosted the manager of the house in the _entresol_; for the owner of the place was not desirous of recognition. M. Basquinet, discerning that the new-comers were of rank, in spite of the fact that they came on foot, at once offered a private room. "The devil, good cit, d'ye take us for a pack of farmers-general? By my marrow, I've scarcely livres enough to grease the dice-cup, let alone paying your nobility prices for new wine and bad rum. Private room--ha! excellent, you tax-collector, excellent, excellent!" So spake Richelieu, in his favorite _badaud_, with a tone that no dweller in the Court of Miracles could have bettered for its purpose. The little party smiled covertly at sight of the landlord's crestfallen air, and then the other five followed their new plebeian leader up the broad ancestral staircase, leaving behind the steady murmur of voices and the chink of coin which had reached their ears from the chance-machine rooms on either side of the hallway. On the second floor were the public rooms for played games; on the third, private apartments for such as chose to make a retreat of the place. And, in truth, many a well-known quarrel had fomented, and many a desperate duel already been fought, in those chambers, which of old had sheltered the royal and noble guests of the family de Gêvres.