“The public room below was crowded with the most astonishing figures.  I had expected well-dressed folk, and here were German and Swiss chapmen playing backgammon with the manners of cattle.  One especially was pointed out to me by my host as a horse-dealer from Basle, who was willing to play high, and was always ready to pay his losses.  This was sufficient.  I immediately proposed to ruin that horse-dealer.  I stood behind him and studied his play, which was inconceivably bad.

“We dined side by side, and when the worst meal I have ever taken was finished, everyone disappeared, with the exception of my Swiss and the landlord.  After a little conversation I proposed a game, and, apologising for the great liberty he was taking, the horse-dealer consented.  I won, and won again.  Brinon entered to interrupt us, and I turned him out of the room.  The play continued in my favour until the little Swiss, having passed over the stakes, apologised again, and would have retired.  That, however, was not what I wanted.  I offered to stake all my winnings in one throw.  He made a good deal of difficulty over it, but at last consented, and won.  I was annoyed, and staked again.  Again he won.  There was no more bad play now.  Throw after throw, without exception, went in his favour, until all my money was gone.  Then he rose, apologetic as ever, wished me good-night, and left the house.  Thus my education was completed.”

“But what did you do then?” Matta inquired.

“Brinon hadn’t given me all the money.”

III.—­The Restoration Court

The Chevalier de Grammont had visited England at the time when that proud nation lay under Cromwell’s yoke, and all was sad and serious in the finest city of the world.  But he found a very different scene the next time he crossed the Channel.  The joy of the Restoration was everywhere.  The very people who had solemnly abjured the Stuart line were feasting and rejoicing on its return.

He arrived about two years after Charles II. had ascended the throne, and his welcome at the English court mitigated his sorrows at leaving France.  It was indeed a happy retreat for an exile of his character.  Accustomed as he was to the grandeur of the French court, he was surprised at the refinement and majesty of that of England.  The king was second to none in bodily or in mental graces, his temperament was agreeable and familiar.  Capable of everything when affairs of state were urgent, he was unable to apply himself in times of ease; his heart was often the dupe, and oftener still the slave, of his affections.  The Duke of York was of a different character.  His courage was reputed indomitable, his word inviolable, and his economy, pride, and industry were praised by all.