often causes the ruin of young men, and after losing four sequins I
expressed a wish to retire, but my honest friend, the Jacobin contrived
to make me risk four more sequins in partnership with him. He held the
bank, and it was broken. I did not wish to play any more, but Corsini,
feigning to pity me and to feel great sorrow at being the cause of my
loss, induced me to try myself a bank of twenty-five sequins; my bank was
likewise broken. The hope of winning back my money made me keep up the
game, and I lost everything I had.

Deeply grieved, I went away and laid myself down near the cook, who woke
up and said I was a libertine.

"You are right," was all I could answer.

I was worn out with fatigue and sorrow, and I slept soundly. My vile
tormentor, the monk, woke me at noon, and informed me with a triumphant
joy that a very rich young man had been invited by his friends to supper,
that he would be sure to play and to lose, and that it would be a good
opportunity for me to retrieve my losses.

"I have lost all my money. Lend me twenty sequins."

"When I lend money I am sure to lose; you may call it superstition, but I
have tried it too often. Try to find money somewhere else, and come.
Farewell."

I felt ashamed to confess my position to my friend, and sending for, a
money-lender I emptied my trunk before him. We made an inventory of my
clothes, and the honest broker gave me thirty sequins, with the
understanding that if I did not redeem them within three days all my