Monsieur Olivier de ----,
you are a rogue . . . Yes, a rogue! The cards we have been
using are biseautees and YOU brought them hither.'
'Sir! . . You insult me!' said Olivier.
'Indeed? Well, sir, that astonishes me!' replied the false
Belgian ironically.
'That is too much, sir. I demand satisfaction, and that on the
very instant. Do you understand me? Let us go out at once.'
'No! no! We must end this quarrel here, sir. Look here--your
two friends shall be your "seconds;" I am now going to send for
MINE.'
The card-sharper, who had risen at these words, rang the bell
violently. His own servant entered. 'Go,' said he, 'to the
Procureur de Roi, and request him to come here on a very
important matter. Be as quick as you can.'
'Oh, sir, be merciful! Don't ruin me!' exclaimed the wretched
Olivier; 'I will do what you like.' At these words, the sharper
told his servant to wait behind the door, and to execute his
order if he should hear nothing to the contrary in ten minutes.
'And now, sir,' continued the sharper, turning to Olivier, 'and
now, sir, for the business between you and me. These cards have
been substituted by you in the place of those which I supplied .
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