“I wasted till his note was changed.  ‘Now, my friend,’ I said.  ’The hour is come.’”

“He looked at me attentively; he is very naive, in reality.  Then, very slowly, he put one hand in his pocket and drew out the whole bundle of money.  It looked opulent, it looked fulsome.

“‘Savinien,’ he said.  ’I will do even more than you ask.  Two-fifty, is it not?  See, now, here is five hundred, and I will toss you whether I pay you five hundred or nothing.’”

“He balanced a coin on his thumb-nail, and smiled at me sidelong.  I drew myself up with dignity to repudiate his proposal, but at that instant there came to me—­who can say what it was?—­a whim, a nudge from the thumb of Providence, a momentary lunacy!  I relaxed my attitude.”

“‘Very well,’ I replied.  ‘But first permit me to examine the coin.’”

“With Rigobert, that is not an insult.  He handed me the coin without a word—­an honest cart-wheel, a five-franc piece.”

“‘Toss, then,’ I said, returning it to him.  ‘Face!’ I called, as he spun it up.  It twinkled in the air like a humming-bird, a score of francs to each flick of its wings, and his palm intercepted it as it fell.  I leaned across to see; behind Rigobert’s shoulder the waiter leaned likewise.  The poor fellow had really no chance to practice those little tricks in which he is eminent.  I had won.  I drew the money across to me.”

“‘Peste!’ remarked Rigobert, in a tone of dejection, and looked with an appearance of horror at what remained to him of his thousand francs.  The waiter beamed at me and rubbed his hands.  I ordered him in a strong voice to bring two more consommations.”

“‘Look here,’ said Rigobert.  ’Lend me that five hundred, will you?  Or, at any rate——­’”

“He paused, and his eye lit again with hope.”

“‘Tell you what,’ he said.  ’I’ll toss you once more—­five hundred against five hundred.  This’—­he laid his hand on his remaining money —­’is no use to me.  I simply can’t do with less than a thousand.  Is it agreed?”

“I desired to refuse; I am not a gambler; I come of prudent people.  But again it came, that inspired impulse, that courageous folly.”

“‘It is agreed,’ I replied.”

“He meant to win, that time.  He sat back to it, he concentrated himself.  He cast a look at me, the glance of a brigand.  I was imperturbable.  Again the waiter hurried to see the venture.  Rigobert frowned.”

“‘You call “face,” eh?’ he asked, balancing the coin.”

“‘I call when the coin is in the air,’ I replied.”

“He grunted, and spun it up.  ‘Pile!’ I called this time.  Down it came to his hand.  Once more the eyes of the waiter and myself rushed to it; the result was capable of no adjustment.  I felt my heart bump painfully.  The broad coin lay on his hand, pile uppermost.  I drew the rest of the money to me.”

“‘A thousand thanks,’ I croaked from a throat constricted with surprise.  Rigobert swore.”