Volume I Part 23 (1/2)
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.”
Cedrille turned toward his neighbors, curious to see the result of the wager.
As for Pa.s.sedix, 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.”
Pa.s.sedix, whose face had a.s.sumed 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! G.o.d 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 Pa.s.sedix'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, _compere_?”
”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.
Pa.s.sedix 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, _compere_.”
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.