Just as the ex-brave ended his oration in very lachrymose tones, the coffee came in, ready poured out in two cups.  My attentive friend handed me one of the cups with a bow.  I was parched with thirst, and drank it off at a draught.  Almost instantly afterwards, I was seized with a fit of giddiness, and felt more completely intoxicated than ever.  The room whirled round and round furiously; the old soldier seemed to be regularly bobbing up and down before me like the piston of a steam-engine.  I was half deafened by a violent singing in my ears; a feeling of utter bewilderment, helplessness, idiocy, overcame me.  I rose from my chair, holding on by the table to keep my balance; and stammered out that I felt dreadfully unwell—­so unwell that I did not know how I was to get home.

“My dear friend,” answered the old soldier—­and even his voice seemed to be bobbing up and down as he spoke—­“my dear friend, it would be madness to go home in your state; you would be sure to lose your money; you might be robbed and murdered with the greatest ease. I am going to sleep here; do you sleep here, too—­they make up capital beds in this house—­take one; sleep off the effects of the wine, and go home safely with your winnings to-morrow—­to-morrow, in broad daylight.”

I had but two ideas left:  one, that I must never let go hold of my handkerchief full of money; the other, that I must lie down somewhere immediately, and fall off into a comfortable sleep.  So I agreed to the proposal about the bed, and took the offered arm of the old soldier, carrying my money with my disengaged hand.  Preceded by the croupier, we passed along some passages and up a flight of stairs into the bedroom which I was to occupy.  The ex-brave shook me warmly by the hand, proposed that we should breakfast together, and then, followed by the croupier, left me for the night.

I ran to the wash-hand stand; drank some of the water in my jug; poured the rest out, and plunged my face into it; then sat down in a chair and tried to compose myself.  I soon felt better.  The change for my lungs, from the fetid atmosphere of the gambling-room to the cool air of the apartment I now occupied, the almost equally refreshing change for my eyes, from the glaring gaslights of the “salon” to the dim, quiet flicker of one bedroom candle, aided wonderfully the restorative effects of cold water.  The giddiness left me, and I began to feel a little like a reasonable being again.  My first thought was of the risk of sleeping all night in a gambling-house; my second, of the still greater risk of trying to get out after the house was closed, and of going home alone at night through the streets of Paris with a large sum of money about me.  I had slept in worse places than this on my travels; so I determined to lock, bolt, and barricade my door, and take my chance till the next morning.

Accordingly, I secured myself against all intrusion; looked under the bed, and into the cupboard; tried the fastening of the window; and then, satisfied that I had taken every proper precaution, pulled off my upper clothing, put my light, which was a dim one, on the hearth among a feathery litter of wood-ashes, and got into bed, with the handkerchief full of money under my pillow.