The next evening Hermann appeared again at the table. Everyone was
expecting him. The generals and privy counsellors left their whist
in order to watch such extraordinary play. The young officers
quitted their sofas, and even the servants crowded into the room.
All pressed round Hermann. The other players left off punting,
impatient to see how it would end. Hermann stood at the table, and
prepared to play alone against the pale, but still smiling
Chekalinsky. Each opened a pack of cards. Chekalinsky shuffled.
Hermann took a card and covered it with a pile of bank-notes. It
was like a duel. Deep silence reigned around.

Chekalinsky began to deal, his hands trembled. On the right a
queen turned up, and on the left an ace.

"Ace has won!" cried Hermann, showing his card.

"Your queen has lost," said Chekalinsky, politely.

Hermann started; instead of an ace, there lay before him the queen
of spades! He could not believe his eyes, nor could he understand
how he had made such a mistake.

At that moment it seemed to him that the queen of spades smiled
ironically, and winked her eye at him. He was struck by her
remarkable resemblance. . . .

"The old Countess!" he exclaimed, seized with terror. Chekalinsky
gathered up his winnings. For some time Hermann remained perfectly
motionless. When at last he left the table, there was a general