“One can attend it,” said Talvis, “without being presented, and that is why we intend to go, for I am not known to anybody here.”

He left us, and the landlord, having come in to receive our orders, gave us some particulars respecting the ball.  Our lovely frauleins expressing a wish to attend it, we made up our minds to gratify them.

We were not known to anyone, and were rambling through the apartments, when we arrived before a large table at which the prince-bishop was holding a faro bank.  The pile of gold that the noble prelate had before him could not have been less than thirteen or fourteen thousand florins.  The Chevalier de Talvis was standing between two ladies to whom he was whispering sweet words, while the prelate was shuffling the cards.

The prince, looking at the chevalier, took it into his head to ask him, in a most engaging manner to risk a card.

“Willingly, my lord,” said Talvis; “the whole of the bank upon this card.”

“Very well,” answered the prelate, to shew that he was not afraid.

He dealt, Talvis won, and my lucky Frenchman, with the greatest coolness, filled his pockets with the prince’s gold.  The bishop, astonished, and seeing but rather late how foolish he had been, said to the chevalier,

“Sir, if you had lost, how would you have managed to pay me?”

“My lord, that is my business.”

“You are more lucky than wise.”

“Most likely, my lord; but that is my business.”

Seeing that the chevalier was on the point of leaving, I followed him, and at the bottom of the stairs, after congratulating him, I asked him to lend me a hundred sovereigns.  He gave them to me at once, assuring me that he was delighted to have it in his power to oblige me.

“I will give you my bill.”

“Nothing of the sort.”

I put the gold into my pocket, caring very little for the crowd of masked persons whom curiosity had brought around the lucky winner, and who had witnessed the transaction.  Talvis went away, and I returned to the ball-room.

Roquendorf and Sarotin, who were amongst the guests, having heard that the chevalier had handed me some gold, asked me who he was.  I gave them an answer half true and half false, and I told them that the gold I had just received was the payment of a sum I had lent him in Paris.  Of course they could not help believing me, or at least pretending to do so.

When we returned to the inn, the landlord informed us that the chevalier had left the city on horseback, as fast as he could gallop, and that a small traveling-bag was all his luggage.  We sat down to supper, and in order to make our meal more cheerful, I told Vais and our charming frauleins the manner in which I had known Talvis, and how I had contrived to have my share of what he had won.

On our arrival in Vienna, the adventure was already known; people admired the Frenchman and laughed at the bishop.  I was not spared by public rumour, but I took no notice of it, for I did not think it necessary to defend myself.  No one knew the Chevalier de Talvis, and the French ambassador was not even acquainted with his name.  I do not know whether he was ever heard of again.