will stake it all upon a single card, if you like, Marchese, so that you
need not wait for your money."

Casanova suddenly became aware of a feeling of compassion for Lorenzi,
a feeling he was puzzled to account for. But he believed himself to be
endowed with second-sight, and he had a premonition that the Lieutenant
would fall in his first encounter.

The Marchese did not accept the suggestion of high stakes, nor did
Lorenzi insist. They resumed the game, therefore, much as on the
previous night, everyone taking a hand at first, and only moderate sums
being ventured. A quarter of an hour later, however, the stakes began
to rise, and ere long Lorenzi had lost his four hundred ducats to the
Marchese.

Casanova had no constancy either in luck or ill-luck. He won, lost, and
won again, in an almost ludicrously regular alternation.

Lorenzi drew a breath of relief when his last gold piece had gone
the way of the others. Rising from the table, he said: "I thank you,
gentlemen. This," he hesitated for a moment, "this will prove to have
been my last game for a long time in your hospitable house. If you will
allow me, Signor Olivo, I will take leave of the ladies before
riding into town. I must reach Mantua ere nightfall in order to make
preparations for to-morrow."

"Shameless liar," thought Casanova. "You will return here to-night, to
Marcolina's arms!" Rage flamed up in him anew.

"What!" exclaimed the Marchese maliciously. "The evening will not come