alone, and limit the partnership to their own
two selves.

A short parenthesis of explanation may be
here permitted. The reader, when he
constantly hears these enormous profits spoken
of, will be apt to conclude that the majority of
Greeks become millionnaires, and some fine
day transform themselves into great capitalists
or large landed proprietors. In spite of their
numerous and heavy gains, this class of
reprobates never make a fortune. We might even
assert that, out of a hundred Greeks, ninety-
nine, plus one, die in poverty. The explanation
is not difficult; the ranks of modern Greekdom
are, without exception, recruited by individuals
who have been brought to ruin by wastefulness
and debauchery. Now, nothing is less likely to
reform a man and bring him back to an orderly and
economical life, than the practice of Greekery.
Every Greek is dissipated, prodigal, and
ostentatious, according to his means. These gentlemen,
instead of proportioning their expenditure
to their receipts, discount the future, and live at a
rate which it is impossible to maintain. They
keep their horses, and other things besides, and
make use of everything they keep, as a means of
display. The Greek also, though it will scarcely
be believed, spends money in play. This wretched
man, who is almost always used-up in respect to
the enjoyments of material comfort, still must
have his gambling emotions, and that real
gambling. He then takes to roulette or to
trente et quarante. In these games, the punters
being passive instruments, the Greek meets
with a court of justice. Fortune, whom he
"corrects" elsewhere, here avenges herself by
resuming her supremacy. She punishes him by
taking severe reprisals.

On leaving Boulogne, the Arcades ambo, or
blackguards both, meant to betake themselves
to the south of France; they were diverted from
that purpose by an affair which Chauvignac
proposed to them, and which consisted in relieving
a doctor of Saint-Omer, who was an inveterate
gamester, of a few thousand-franc notes.
Chauvignac was to give every necessary information,
and exacted no more than a third of the profits
for having pointed out the game. Only, as he
was the doctor's intimate friend, it was stipulated
that he should not appear in the business.

The industrious Greeks soon made their
appearance at the Hôtel d'Angleterre, one of the
best inns. Andréas gave himself out as a rich
Parisian capitalist, who, charmed by the beauty
of the neighbourhood and the simplicity of its
manners, desired to become the purchaser of a
property. He was accompanied by a friend
who was competent to give him judicious advice.
They took several excursions, they made
inquiries; but of all the estates they visited, none
was on a sufficiently grand scale to suit the
metropolitan purchaser. Tired of making fruitless
researches, the millionnaire announced that he
was about to return to the capital, when he
suddenly fell ill. At his request, the best doctor
in the town, Chauvignac's friend, the gamester
in question, was immediately sent for. The
disciple of Esculapius (and also of Mercury)
made careful inquiries as to the causes of his
new client's malady and the nature of his
sufferings.

"Alas, monsieur!" replied Andréas, in a doleful
voice, "I cannot tell what brought on the
indisposition which now confines me to my bed;
all I know is, that I have a horrible headache.
I am greatly afraid that the symptoms announce
the return of a brain fever which has already
attacked me more than once."

"Make yourself easy," the doctor answered.
"We will try and avert the evil by a copious
blood-letting."

"Do what you please," said the hardened
swindler. "I place myself entirely in your hands."

Andréas submitted to the prescribed bleeding,
after which he declared that he felt a little
better.

"I will come and see you to-morrow," said
the doctor, as he took leave of the pretended
sick man.

"No, no; you must come again in the course
of the day, for I feel that I stand in need of
constant attention."

The doctor promised, and did return a few
hours afterwards. On feeling the pulse, he
found it still so firm and high, that he
recommended fasting and absolute repose. As soon
as the doctor's back was turned, Andréas
unfastened a ligature which he had tied round his
arm to modify the pulsation of the vein, and
enjoyed a hearty meal. Several days passed in
this way, during which Raymond never left his
friend's bedside. He behaved with the devotion
of a Sister of Charity. Under such serious
circumstances, it was deemed expedient to send
for two members of the family, who were
formally introduced to the doctor.

These two gentlemen, who passed for the
patient's nephews, were no other than hack
swindlers, Parisian confederates who undertook
any stray job at the rate of ten francs each per
day. Their part consisted merely in seconding
the manœuvres of their employer. The
complaint was mastered, as might be expected.
Andréas very shortly appeared to be rapidly
recovering his usual health.

To amuse the poor invalid, who was still
confined to his bed, his nephews and his friend
played cards every day. The game increased
in interest; gold rolled in plenty on the table;
no lack of money in this family at least.

"I tell you what, doctor," said Andréas, one
evening, "I believe that a little amusement
would hasten my recovery. You have a winning
face; would you do me the favour to hold a
hand for me at écarté? I put down ten louis."

The doctor, as much to please his patient as
to gratify his favourite passion, readily took his
place at the table. His luck was admirable; it
resulted in his handing over sixty louis to the
convalescent.

"I am very glad," he said, "to have fulfilled
my mission so satisfactorily; but I can hardly
tell whether the result has been arrived at
through your good luck or my own."