“Very good; here is the list you can choose from.”

He chose numbers to the amount of three thousand francs, and then asked me for a piece of paper to write an acknowledgment.

“Why so?  I can’t do business that way, as I only dispose of my tickets for cash.”

“But you may be certain that you will have the money to-morrow.”

“I am quite sure I should, but you ought to be certain that you will have the tickets to-morrow.  They are registered at my office, and I can dispose of them in no other manner.”

“Give me some which are not registered.”

“Impossible; I could not do it.”

“Why not?”

“Because if they proved to be winning numbers I should have to pay out of my own pocket an honour I do not desire.”

“Well, I think you might run the risk.”

“I think not, if I wish to remain an honest man, at all events.”

The abbe, who saw he could get nothing out of me, turned to Tiretta, and began to speak to him in bad Italian, and at last offered to introduce him to Madame de Lambertini, the widow of one of the Pope’s nephews.  Her name, her relationship to the Pope, and the abbe’s spontaneous offer, made me curious to know more, so I said that my friend would accept his offer, and that I would have the honour to be of the party; whereupon we set out.

We got down at the door of the supposed niece of the Holy Father in the Rue Christine, and we proceeded to go upstairs.  We saw a woman who, despite her youthful air, was, I am sure, not a day under forty.  She was rather thin, had fine black eyes, a good complexion, lively but giddy manners, was a great laugher, and still capable of exciting a passing fancy.  I soon made myself at home with her, and found out, when she began to talk, that she was neither a widow nor the niece of the Pope.  She came from Modena, and was a mere adventuress.  This discovery shewed me what sort of a man the abbe was.

I thought from his expression that the count had taken a fancy to her, and when she asked us to dinner I refused on the plea of an engagement; but Tiretta, who took my meaning, accepted.  Soon after I went away with the abbe, whom I dropped at the Quai de la Ferraille, and I then went to beg a dinner at Calsabigi’s.

After dinner Calsabigi took me on one side, and told me that M. du Vernai had commissioned him to warn me that I could not dispose of tickets on account.

“Does M. du Vernai take me for a fool or a knave?  As I am neither, I shall complain to M. de Boulogne.”

“You will be wrong; he merely wanted to warn you and not offend you.”

“You offend me very much yourself, sir, in talking to me in that fashion; and you may make up your mind that no one shall talk to me thus a second time.”