and kissing his hand, I went out for a walk, relieved from a great load.  I had no doubt that my excellent father would give me five hundred sequins during the day, and I enjoyed my anticipation the honour I would derive, in the opinion of the lovely countess, by my exactitude and prompt discharge of my debt.  I felt that it gave new strength to my hopes, and that feeling prevented me from regretting my heavy loss, but grateful for the great generosity of my benefactor I was fully determined on keeping my promise.

I dined with the three friends, and the matter was not even alluded to; but, as we were rising from the table, a servant brought M. de Bragadin a letter and a parcel.

He read the letter, asked me to follow him into his study, and the moment we were alone, he said;

“Here is a parcel for you.”

I opened it, and found some forty sequins.  Seeing my surprise, M. de Bragadin laughed merrily and handed me the letter, the contents of which ran thus: 

“M. de Casanova may be sure that our playing last night was only a joke:  he owes me nothing.  My wife begs to send him half of the gold which he has lost in cash.  “Count Rinaldi.”

I looked at M. de Bragadin, perfectly amazed, and he burst out laughing.  I guessed the truth, thanked him, and embracing him tenderly I promised to be wiser for the future.  The mist I had before my eyes was dispelled, I felt that my love was defunct, and I remained rather ashamed, when I realized that I had been the dupe of the wife as well as of the husband.

“This evening,” said my clever physician, “you can have a gay supper with the charming countess.”

“This evening, my dear, respected benefactor, I will have supper with you.  You have given me a masterly lesson.”

“The next time you lose money upon trust, you had better not pay it.”

“But I should be dishonoured.”

“Never mind.  The sooner you dishonour yourself, the more you will save, for you will always be compelled to accept your dishonour whenever you find yourself utterly unable to pay your losses.  It is therefore more prudent not to wait until then.”

“It is much better still to avoid that fatal impossibility by never playing otherwise than with money in hand.”

“No doubt of it, for then you will save both your honour and your purse.  But, as you are fond of games of chance, I advise you never to punt.  Make the bank, and the advantage must be on your side.”

“Yes, but only a slight advantage.”

“As slight as you please, but it will be on your side, and when the game is over you will find yourself a winner and not a loser.  The punter is excited, the banker is calm.  The last says, ‘I bet you do not guess,’ while the first says, ‘I bet I can guess.’  Which is the fool, and which is the wise man?  The question is easily answered.  I adjure you to be prudent, but if you should punt and win, recollect that you are only an idiot if at the end you lose.”