Chapter XIV: A Game with Dice

Cédrille sat as if glued to his seat, from which he dared not stir since his friend had forced him back into it so unceremoniously; but he cut a singular figure as he rolled his eyes around the room, staring at all the people about him; and he had not the slightest appearance of a person who had come there for amusement.

As for the Chevalier Passedix, his eyes seemed to be trying to discover the contents of the Béarnais's pockets; and, as he caressed his chin, he reflected thus:

"I said that his pockets were well filled, but I know nothing about it; he didn't whisper a word when I said it Sandis! if it should turn out that he hasn't a sou about him--that old pirate of a cabaretier would take back his omelet. But I feel that Dame Cadichard's two little eggs are at the bottom of Roland's sheath. I dare not question this stout little Béarnais. But, come what may, I don't propose to go away from here without filling my belly. The proverb well says: 'Without Bacchus and Ceres, Venus congeals!'--Now, then, as I do not choose that my love shall congeal, I absolutely must do a little work with my jaws!"

Thereupon, turning to the other persons seated at the table at which he had taken his place, tall Passedix observed that they were bourgeois, very well dressed and having all the appearance of shopkeepers from the vicinity come thither for recreation. In front of them were goblets and a generous measure of wine; also dice and diceboxes.

"These fellows are probably playing for their reckoning!" thought the Gascon. "An idea! suppose I should suggest a game to the little fellow, especially as he seems inclined to go to sleep.--Holà! I say, worthy Cédrille!"

"What is it?" cried the peasant, staring in order to see better.

"Suppose we have a game of dice, like our neighbors.--You gentlemen are playing _quinze_, I think?"

One of the players looked up at the lean chevalier, and contented himself with an assenting nod.

"Good! what do you say to a game of _quinze_, friend Cédrille? I'll play you for a rose crown. There's a pleasant suggestion for you?"

"No, thanks! I have never played; I don't know any game. At our house, my mother used to say very often: 'Don't let anybody induce you to gamble, my son, it's too dangerous a sport; it becomes a vice and it may lead to crime!'"

"Ta ta ta! that speech smells strongly of the barn! If gambling is dangerous in your province, it isn't so in Paris; and the proof is that everybody gambles, from the lowest to the highest. The greatest nobles set us the example; they wouldn't be gentlemen if they didn't gamble."

"Oh! I don't claim to be a gentleman, myself!"

"Sandis! that's lucky!" said Passedix to himself. "What a blockhead this young Béarnais is; he doesn't gamble and he won't eat; he doesn't know how to carry his wine! If only he has money!--but I must make sure of that before they bring us that famous omelet."--And, addressing his young companion once more, Passedix said: "Can it be that we are miserly, by any chance, my young shepherd? Fie! fie! that would be a wretched failing, and one that is much ridiculed in Paris, where every man of heart, if he wants to enjoy himself, should pay, without reckoning, every bill presented to him."

"I, miserly!" rejoined Cédrille, with a smile; "oh! I am not afraid of anyone charging me with that; I have never had anything of my own! Whenever my fob is full, what there is in it is at my friends' service!"

"Bravo! very good! shake! I am just like that, myself!--Well, then, my good Cédrille, as you don't know the game of dice, and as I am absolutely determined to lose a rose crown to you, we will play for it at _wet finger_. I trust that you know that game, at least!"

"At wet finger!" muttered Cédrille, putting his hands to his pockets. "Oh! I know that game, yes. But, by the way, I just remember that I can't play to-night, unless I play on credit----"

"On credit! What does that mean?"

"It means that the servants at the Hôtel de Mongarcin--all those splendid fellows in handsome livery, who treated me so handsomely at the offices----"

"Well! what then? Let us have it, mordioux!"

"Well! when I left them, saying that I was going to walk round the city a bit, they said: 'Have you got any money about you?'--I said _yes_, and took a good fat purse out of my pocket.--Oh! I didn't start out on my travels without the means of travelling.--'Well,' they said, 'leave your purse here; don't take it with you, or it will be stolen; and it won't do you any good to be on your guard, for you won't see anything; Paris is full of vagabonds, cloak snatchers, cutpurses, who strip you without your knowing how it's done. You don't need your purse to walk about the city; so, leave it here, where it will be safe, the maître d'hôtel will be responsible for it; and then you can stroll all over Paris and snap your fingers at the robbers.'--Faith! I followed their advice and left my purse in their hands; and I haven't a sou about me!"

It would be difficult to describe the expression of his valiant companion's face while Cédrille was speaking. Chevalier Passedix, ordinarily yellow, became green one moment, then violet, then ash-colored; his features seemed to lengthen, his cheeks to sink in more than usual; his eyes flashed fire, and he muttered, clenching his fists:

"This passes all bounds! He hasn't a sou, and he wants to enjoy himself in Paris! What an ignorant fool!--Ah! if you were not your cousin's cousin! what pleasure it would give me to thrash you, knave! to teach you to hang on my arm when your pockets are empty!--But the omelet will soon be here, and they will take it away again! That will be an outrage! Vertuchoux! at embarrassing moments one must be bold; fortune favors the brave!--another proverb. Let us stake all to win all!"

And Passedix, turning to his neighbors the dice throwers, suddenly exclaimed:

"Twelve! that's a good throw, but, damn the odds! I will stake six livres _tournois_ against monsieur!"

The bourgeois who had just thrown the dice stared at the chevalier and rejoined:

"You don't know the game; we have three dice, and the one who throws nearest to fifteen wins; I have thrown twelve; I have a great many chances in my favor, for anything above fifteen loses."

"I know the game as well as the man who invented it; that doesn't prevent my saying that I will stake six livres _tournois_ against you."

"Very good! I take your bet."

"All right! agreed!--Now, it's your turn, monsieur, on whom I am betting."

The other gambler, after casting a surprised glance at the Gascon, took the dicebox and shook it, saying:

"Ah! you bet on me, do you, seigneur chevalier? Faith! I hope with all my heart that I may win for you."

Cédrille turned toward his neighbors, curious to see the result of the wager.

As for Passedix, he had risen, his long body towered above the table, but his eyes never swerved from the box in which the dice were; and his anxious expression, the way in which he twisted the ends of his cloak in his hands, and the trembling of his whole person, all tended to show how important it was to him that he should win the stake.

At last the bourgeois threw the three dice on the table, and the sum of the points was only eleven.

"Faith! that was rather near!" said the man who had thrown; "but it is not enough--I have lost!"

"And you too, chevalier!" exclaimed the other; "come, hand over your rose crown--it was your own suggestion."

Passedix, whose face had assumed a threatening aspect when he saw the result of the throw, slowly caressed his moustache and replied, dwelling on each word:

"I have lost? that may be!--It was monsieur's fault for throwing badly."

"What's that? I threw badly?"

"Why, yes, to be sure; you shouldn't spend two hours shaking the dice in the box--it tires them, and they can only turn up small numbers!"

"Ah! that's a pretty good one! I play as I please. Why did you bet on me? who forced you to?"

"Oh! God bless me! enough of this! I have lost--that is all right; but I demand my revenge; I should say that that is one of the things no gentleman refuses."

"Your revenge--very good! I agree!"

"That is lucky for you! Sandis!"

"Here, throw the dice yourself!" said the man who had lost, offering the Gascon the box; "then you cannot say that I play badly."

"With pleasure, I prefer it so!" cried the chevalier, seizing the dicebox and resuming his seat.

Thereupon he rattled the dice in the box in his turn, and, having raised his hand above his head, threw them on the table; the throw was fourteen.

A joyful cry escaped from Passedix's lips and he looked about with a triumphant air, saying:

"That is what I call throwing! that is how we throw dice at court! Fourteen! what do you say to that, _compère_?"

"That's a good throw," replied his adversary; "but I may equal it."

And having picked up the three dice and put them in his box, he played, and threw only five.

Passedix was radiant; his face lighted up, and he began to laugh uproariously, opening his enormous mouth and showing his sharp fangs.

"I have lost," said the shopkeeper; "well, we are just where we started.--I think it's time to go home, _compère_."

But at that moment the odor of cooked eggs reached their nostrils. Poussinet appeared, carrying in both hands a pewter platter upon which was the enormous omelet; under one arm he had a jug of wine, and under the other a round loaf.

The waiter gazed admiringly at the omelet, but he walked with slow and measured steps, like a person who expects a catastrophe, or one who is marching to the sacrifice.

The odor of the dish so eagerly coveted dilated the chevalier's nostrils; he seized the shopkeeper by his doublet as he was about to leave the table, and said:

"Well! are we to stop at that? Don't you know that among gentlemen, when each wins a game, the rubber is always played?"

"The rubber! the rubber! But it is late, and I ought to be at home."

"You will be there a few minutes late! What a misfortune! But we cannot afford to play like children, with no result; everyone would laugh at us! Come! it will take but a minute!"

And Passedix retained his hold on the tradesman's doublet, which he was very careful not to release, for Poussinet had already said twice:

"Here's the omelet _au lard_, the wine, and the bread--total, two livres eight sous six deniers, which you must pay me now, or I shall take it all away."

"'Tis well! 'tis well! Sandis! Wait a moment, Poussinet; as you see, I am just finishing a game with monsieur. Let us finish!"

Tired of being detained by his doublet, the shopkeeper decided to resume his seat.

"Well, monsieur," he exclaimed; "since I absolutely must do it to satisfy you, let us play this rubber, which, however, I should be justified in refusing, for, after all, I do not know you! You interfered in the game of dice I was playing with my friend, not with you."

"Par la mordioux! are you afraid of compromising yourself by playing with me, my friend? You do not know me, evidently! Very well! learn that I am Chevalier Castor Pyrrhus de Passedix, the favorite of Monseigneur le Cardinal de Richelieu, and an officer in the queen's _Mousquetaires_!--Say--are you satisfied now?--In a moment, Poussinet--don't go. Let us settle this business, and don't put your nose so near the omelet!"

The two tradesmen had glanced at each other with a sneering expression while the Gascon chevalier enumerated his name and offices, and they whispered to each other:

"The cardinal's favorite, forsooth! Just look at his doublet; there's a hole in the elbow, and his ruff is all ragged!"

"He is some schemer, some scurvy knave! Shall I play with him?"

"Yes; it would be a good job to win his rose crown."

"But, if he loses, by Notre-Dame! he will have to pay! I will not be put off with his bluster!"

"Well! what about that rubber! Capédébious! shall we finish to-night?" cried Passedix, assuming a surly air and bringing his fist down on the table.

"I am ready, monsieur le favori du cardinal. But you will not ask me for your revenge again. I declare now that I will not throw after this."

"All right! that is understood. Who the devil asks you to?"

"There are the dice, monsieur; will you begin?"

"I have no objection."

Passedix put the three dice in the box that he held; this time, despite his efforts, one could see that his hand trembled and that he did not raise the box with the same confidence. However, the dice were thrown, and again the sum was fourteen.

Passedix jumped for joy, so that he nearly overturned the table; he breathed like a man who had been stifling for five minutes, then burst out in a roar of laughter that extinguished one of the lamps. His demonstration ended with the words:

"I think that you have lost, my boy! You will pay for our supper."

"But I believe that I am entitled to take my throw first."

"Oh! that is true; take your throw, it's your right; but if I were in your place, I would give it up and pay at once."

"No, indeed! Fortune is like the sun; it shines for everybody!"

"There's a proverb that I never heard! I believe it to be absolutely false!"

However, the chevalier's adversary calmly took up the dice, shook them with the air of a man to whom it matters little whether he loses a rose crown, but who is amused by the impatience of his opponent.

"Sandis! have you nearly finished shaking your dicebox?" said Passedix; "you trifle too much."

The shopkeeper threw--fifteen! It was his turn to laugh, which he did with a good heart, in company with his friend, who cried:

"Pardieu! there's a throw that's worth all of yours, monsieur le cardinal's friend!"

But Passedix did not seem to hear these words; he was so thunderstruck when he counted his opponent's points, that he stood like one turned to stone, with his eyes fixed on the six, the five, and the four.

"Come, monsieur le chevalier, give me the rose crown you were so anxious to lose. Quickly, if you please! I ought to have gone long ago!"

"I, pay you!" cried Passedix, drawing himself up to his full height, and with the back of his hand giving a tilt over one ear to the sort of cap he wore; "pay you! No, indeed! for the throw was not fair; it doesn't count!"

"Doesn't count! that throw of mine! I suppose that you say that in jest, _beau sire_, but I don't like that sort of pleasantry, I warn you. Pay me quickly, and let us have done with it!"

"Once more I tell you, I will not pay! The throw was bad. You threw the dice with your left hand. I don't play with a left-handed----"

"Chevalier, you are trying to find a pretext for not paying. In the first place, I did not throw with my left hand; and in the second place, if I did, the throw would be perfectly fair."

"No; in that case, you are bound to notify your opponent."

"I did not play with my left hand!"

"Then I lie, do I?"

"Yes; and you are nothing but a blackleg!"

"Ah! by Roland! you shall pay dearly for that insult--you vile clodhopper!"

"Meanwhile, you are going to get what you deserve, you long-legged sharper who wanted to sup at our expense!"

As he spoke, that one of the tradesmen who had played with the Gascon put out his arm and rushed forward to strike him with his fist. But his opponent had anticipated the blow and jumped back quickly. As ill luck would have it, Cédrille had risen when he saw that the quarrel had become serious, and muttering: "I want to go away; I am not enjoying myself at all here!" received full in the face the blow intended for his friend. He uttered a cry of pain. Instantly Passedix whipped out his sword, and Roland's blade was directed at the shopkeeper, who had seized the pewter pot with which to defend himself.

But a new personage had entered the café and forced his way through the crowd that already surrounded the combatants.