There is no need to particularise here the little arrangements made between us; the playmen of the present day want no instruction, I take it, and the public have little interest in the matter.  But simplicity was our secret.  Everything successful is simple.  If, for instance, I wiped the dust off a chair with my napkin, it was to show that the enemy was strong in diamonds; if I pushed it, he had ace, king; if I said, ‘Punch or wine, my Lord?’ hearts was meant; if ‘Wine or punch?’ clubs.  If I blew my nose, it was to indicate that there was another confederate employed by the adversary; and then, I warrant you, some pretty trials of skill would take place.  My Lord Deuceace, although so young, had a very great skill and cleverness with the cards in every way; and it was only from hearing Frank Punter, who came with him, yawn three times when the Chevalier had the ace of trumps, that I knew we were Greek to Greek, as it were.

My assumed dulness was perfect; and I used to make Monsieur de Potzdorff laugh with it, when I carried my little reports to him at the Garden-house outside the town where he gave me rendezvous.  These reports, of course, were arranged between me and my uncle beforehand.  I was instructed (and it is always far the best way) to tell as much truth as my story would possibly bear.  When, for instance, he would ask me, ’What does the Chevalier do of a morning?’

‘He goes to church regularly’ (he was very religious), ’and after hearing mass comes home to breakfast.  Then he takes an airing in his chariot till dinner, which is served at noon.  After dinner he writes his letters, if he have any letters to write:  but he has very little to do in this way.  His letters are to the Austrian envoy, with whom he corresponds, but who does not acknowledge him; and being written in English, of course I look over his shoulder.  He generally writes for money.  He says he wants it to bribe the secretaries of the Treasury, in order to find out really where the alloyed ducats come from; but, in fact, he wants it to play of evenings, when he makes his party with Calsabigi, the lottery-contractor, the Russian attaches, two from the English embassy, my Lords Deuceace and Punter, who play a jeu d’enfer, and a few more.  The same set meet every night at supper:  there are seldom any ladies; those who come are chiefly French ladies, members of the corps de ballet.  He wins often, but not always.  Lord Deuceace is a very fine player.  The Chevalier Elliot, the English Minister, sometimes comes, on which occasion the secretaries do not play.  Monsieur de Balibari dines at the missions, but en petit comite, not on grand days of reception.  Calsabigi, I think, is his confederate at play.  He has won lately; but the week before last he pledged his solitaire for four hundred ducats.’

’Do he and the English attaches talk together in their own language?’

’Yes; he and the envoy spoke yesterday for half-an-hour about the new danseuse and the American troubles:  chiefly about the new danseuse.’