“On the contrary, my dear friend, this diamond became our only resource; with it I might regain our horses and their harnesses, and even money to pay our expenses on the road.” “Athos, you make me tremble!” cried D’Artagnan. “I mentioned your diamond then to my adversary, who had likewise remarked it. What the devil, my dear, do you think you can wear a star from heaven on your finger, and nobody observe it? Impossible!” “Go on, go on, my dear fellow!” said D’Artagnan; “for upon my honor, you will kill me with your indifference.” “We divided, then, this diamond into ten parts of a hundred pistoles each.” “You are laughing at me, and want to try me!” said D’Artagnan, whom anger began to take by the hair, as Minerva takes Achilles, in the _Iliad_. “No, I do not jest, _mordieu!_ I should like to have seen you in my place! I had been fifteen days without seeing a human face, and had been left to brutalize myself in the company of bottles.” “That was no reason for staking my diamond!” replied D’Artagnan, closing his hand with a nervous spasm. “Hear the end. Ten parts of a hundred pistoles each, in ten throws, without revenge; in thirteen throws I had lost all—in thirteen throws. The number thirteen was always fatal to me; it was on the thirteenth of July that—” “_Ventrebleu!_” cried D’Artagnan, rising from the table, the story of the present day making him forget that of the preceding one. “Patience!” said Athos; “I had a plan. The Englishman was an original; I had seen him conversing that morning with Grimaud, and Grimaud had told me that he had made him proposals to enter into his service. I staked Grimaud, the silent Grimaud, divided into ten portions.” “Well, what next?” said D’Artagnan, laughing in spite of himself. “Grimaud himself, understand; and with the ten parts of Grimaud, which are not worth a ducatoon, I regained the diamond. Tell me, now, if persistence is not a virtue?” “My faith! But this is droll,” cried D’Artagnan, consoled, and holding his sides with laughter. “You may guess, finding the luck turned, that I again staked the diamond.” “The devil!” said D’Artagnan, becoming angry again. “I won back your harness, then your horse, then my harness, then my horse, and then I lost again. In brief, I regained your harness and then mine. That’s where we are. That was a superb throw, so I left off there.” D’Artagnan breathed as if the whole hostelry had been removed from his breast. “Then the diamond is safe?” said he, timidly. “Intact, my dear friend; besides the harness of your Bucephalus and mine.” “But what is the use of harnesses without horses?” “I have an idea about them.” “Athos, you make me shudder.” “Listen to me. You have not played for a long time, D’Artagnan.” “And I have no inclination to play.” “Swear to nothing. You have not played for a long time, I said; you ought, then, to have a good hand.” “Well, what then?”