Volume I Part 47 (1/2)
”Senange, you have dice there,” cried Leodgard suddenly, raising his head; ”I will play you for my cloak--you were admiring it last night. I will stake it against fifty livres, and, on my word as a gentleman, it cost me more than a hundred--which I have not yet paid, it is true, but which I still owe to my tailor.”
”What, Leodgard! do you want to play again?” cried Beausseilly; ”but you are not in luck, and if you lose your cloak, how can you return to Paris?”
”I will stake my sword, my doublet, my knee-breeches! I will stake myself, when I have nothing else left! But I must play! So long as I have anything left to stake, by h.e.l.l! it will always be so.--Well, Senange, do you accept the stake I propose?”
”Yes, I agree; your cloak against fifty livres. But what shall we play on? We can't throw dice on the gra.s.s; they would not lie evenly, and the result would be doubtful.”
”Play on my back, messieurs,” said Monclair, lying flat on his stomach on the gra.s.s. ”I promise not to stir.”
”So be it; on Monclair's back.”
The two young men each took a dicebox, and their companions drew near to watch the game. The valet brought the lantern nearer, while Monclair lay on his stomach and did not stir.
”Begin!” said Leodgard in a gloomy voice, handing the dice to his adversary.
”As you please,” said Senange; and placing the dice in the box, he threw them on Monclair's back.
”Four!” cried Beausseilly and La Valteline.
”Four!” echoed Leodgard, with a smile of satisfaction.
”What a beastly throw!” muttered Senange; ”I fancy that I may say good-bye to my fifty livres.--Go on, count--play!”
Leodgard took the dice and threw them with a trembling hand.
”Three!” cried Senange. ”Pardieu! but I am in luck! Your cloak belongs to me, Leodgard!”
The young Comte de Marvejols dropped his head on his breast, while the other gentlemen held their peace and seemed distressed by the ill fortune which pursued Leodgard.
At that moment a distant, indistinct noise reached the ears of the young men.
”Do you hear, messieurs?” said La Valteline, listening intently; ”do you hear?”
”I hear nothing,” said Monclair.
”I do,” said Beausseilly; ”I hear a noise that seems to be coming nearer; it sounds like outcries, imprecations.”
”It seems to me that someone is coming toward us. Listen! listen! the footsteps are becoming more distinct.”
”Suppose it were Montrevert?”
”Can he have been attacked? We must go to his a.s.sistance!”
”We had better hail him first.--Take that lantern, Bruno, and hold it in the air.--Do as I do, messieurs.--Hola, Montrevert! is that you?”
The shouts of the young men were met by an answering shout.
”It is he,” said Leodgard; ”and he is not far away.”
”There he is! there he is!”