The next evening Hermann appeared again at the table.  Every one was expecting him.  The generals and Privy Counsellors left their whist in order to watch such extraordinary play.  The young officers quitted their sofas, and even the servants crowded into the room.  All pressed round Hermann.  The other players left off punting, impatient to see how it would end.  Hermann stood at the table and prepared to play alone against the pale, but still smiling Chekalinsky.  Each opened a pack of cards.  Chekalinsky shuffled.  Hermann took a card and covered it with a pile of bank-notes.  It was like a duel.  Deep silence reigned around.

Chekalinsky began to deal; his hands trembled.  On the right a queen turned up, and on the left an ace.

“Ace has won!” cried Hermann, showing his card.

“Your queen has lost,” said Chekalinsky, politely.

Hermann started; instead of an ace, there lay before him the queen of spades!  He could not believe his eyes, nor could he understand how he had made such a mistake.

At that moment it seemed to him that the queen of spades smiled ironically and winked her eye at him.  He was struck by her remarkable resemblance...

“The old Countess!” he exclaimed, seized with terror.

Chekalinsky gathered up his winnings.  For some time, Hermann remained perfectly motionless.  When at last he left the table, there was a general commotion in the room.

“Splendidly punted!” said the players.  Chekalinsky shuffled the cards afresh, and the game went on as usual.

* * * * *

Hermann went out of his mind, and is now confined in room Number 17 of the Obukhov Hospital.  He never answers any questions, but he constantly mutters with unusual rapidity:  “Three, seven, ace!” “Three, seven, queen!”

Lizaveta Ivanovna has married a very amiable young man, a son of the former steward of the old Countess.  He is in the service of the State somewhere, and is in receipt of a good income.  Lizaveta is also supporting a poor relative.

Tomsky has been promoted to the rank of captain, and has become the husband of the Princess Pauline.

THE CLOAK

BY NIKOLAY V. GOGOL

In the department of——­, but it is better not to mention the department.  The touchiest things in the world are departments, regiments, courts of justice, in a word, all branches of public service.  Each individual nowadays thinks all society insulted in his person.  Quite recently, a complaint was received from a district chief of police in which he plainly demonstrated that all the imperial institutions were going to the dogs, and that the Czar’s sacred name was being taken in vain; and in proof he appended to the complaint a romance, in which the district chief of police is made to appear about once in every ten pages, and sometimes in a downright drunken condition.  Therefore, in order to avoid all unpleasantness, it will be better to designate the department in question, as a certain department.