'Nor I. But I have cards.'

'Cards let it be,' said I.

'And the game?'

'I leave it to you.'

'Écarté, then--the best of three.'

I could not help smiling as I agreed, for I do not suppose that there
were three men in France who were my masters at the game. I told the
Bart as much as we dismounted. He smiled also as he listened.

'I was counted the best player at Watier's,' said he. 'With even luck
you deserve to get off if you beat me.'

So we tethered our two horses and sat down one on either side of a great
flat rock. The Bart took a pack of cards out of his tunic, and I had
only to see him shuffle to convince me that I had no novice to deal
with. We cut, and the deal fell to him.

My faith, it was a stake worth playing for. He wished to add a hundred
gold pieces a game, but what was money when the fate of Colonel Etienne
Gerard hung upon the cards? I felt as though all those who had reason to
be interested in the game--my mother, my hussars, the Sixth Corps
d'Armée, Ney, Massena, even the Emperor himself--were forming a ring
round us in that desolate valley. Heavens, what a blow to one and all of
them should the cards go against me! But I was confident, for my écarté