But the paintings!--Kupris! Astarte! Astoreth!--a thousand and the same! And Rafaelle has beheld them! Yes, Rafaelle has been here; for did he not paint the ---- ? and was he not consequently damned? The paintings!--the paintings! O Luxury! O Love!--who gazing on those forbidden beauties shall have eyes for the dainty devices of the golden frames that lie imbedded and asleep against those swellings walls of eider down? But the Duc's heart is fainting within him. He is not, however, as you suppose, dizzy with magnificence, nor drunk with the ecstatic breath of those innumerable censers. _C'est vrai que de toutes ces choses il a pensé beaucoup--mais!_ The Duc De L'Omelette is terror-stricken; for through the lurid vista which a single uncurtained window is affording, lo! gleams the most ghastly of all fires! _Le Pauvre Duc!_ He could not help imagining that the glorious, the voluptuous, the never-dying melodies which pervaded that hall, as they passed filtered and transmuted through the alchemy of the enchanted window panes, were the wailings and the howlings of the hopeless and the damned! And there too--there--upon that ottoman!--who could _he_ be?--he, the _petit-maitre_--no, the Deity--who sat as if carved in marble, _et qui sourit_, with his pale countenance, _si amerement_. * * * * * _Mais il faut agir_--that is to say a Frenchman never faints outright. Besides, his Grace hated a scene--De L'Omelette is himself again. There were some foils upon a table--some points also. The Duc had studied under B----, _il avait tué ses six hommes_. Now then _il peut s'echapper_. He measures two points, and, with a grace inimitable, offers his Majesty the choice. _Horreur!_ his Majesty does not fence! _Mais il joue!_--what a happy thought! But his Grace had always an excellent memory. He had dipped in the "_Diable_" of the Abbé Gualtier. Therein it is said "_que le Diable n'ose pas refuser un jeu d'Ecarté_." But the chances--the chances! True--desperate: but not more desperate than the Duc. Besides, was he not in the secret?--had he not skimmed over Pere Le Brun? was he not a member of the Club Vingt-un? "_Si Je perds_," said he, "_Je serai deux fois perdu_," I shall be doubly damned--_voila tout!_ (Here his Grace shrugged his shoulders) _Si Je gagne Je serai libre,--que les cartes soient prepareés!_ * * * * * His Grace was all care, all attention--his Majesty all confidence. A spectator would have thought of Francis and Charles. His Grace thought of his game. His Majesty did not think--he shuffled. The Duc _coupa_. The cards are dealt. The trump is turned--it is--it is--the king! No--it was the queen. His Majesty cursed her masculine habiliments. De L'Omelette laid his hand upon his heart. They play. The Duc counts. The hand is out. His Majesty counts heavily, smiles, and is taking wine. The Duc slips a card.