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HIS OWN DETECTIVE.

Count d'O was one of the gay sons of Paris. He originally possessed a large fortune ; but disolute habits —the vortex of wealth and title—had expended the better part of a princely independence. He was famous as the wildest, the most daring, and yet most* generous of profligates. However, reparted losses at ecarte had somewhat drained his purse. Unlike the better part of the licentious, he had the wisdom to dispense with many follies : yet he still kept up a small whit of dissipation among a few boon companion, the choicest of whom was the Marquis D However, a few days before our tale commences, a rich'relation dying, left him a considerable sum of money, and once more he was reinstated in Lis pleasures, while his boon companions, like vultures scenting their prey, began flocking round his open purse. One evening Count d'O and the Marquis D were stting in a richly-adorned apartment belonging to the former, when the conversation turned upon his late good fortune. The Marquis D listened to the Count's remarks with a seeming nonchalance. He was whiffing a fine-scented cigar, and deeply employed in the philosophy of smoke: He was a tall, exactly built man, and a thorough gentleman in manners and conversation, yet there was something in the glitter of a calm dark eye, something in the proudly curled smile, which spoke of the man of emergency and talent. He was dissolute, had squandered a fortune ; but was more renowned for his skill in duelling, quiet recklessness, than as a debauchee. 'Yes, the old buck did it well, and—sacre—deserves my thanks. I mustn't be an utter villain. Rather wild; but I would not care for tout le monde to call me mauvait. Le dlable! even he is not an utter rake,' and the Count threw himself at length on his beautiful sofa, while his countenance beamed a generous good humor. 'Yes, most decidedly; but you are not going to be a confirmed grandam?' and the Marquis laughed slightly. It was a clear laugh, but pregnant with sneer, which the Count could not bear. Springing up from the sofa, rather indignant, and seating himself on a chair: ' A grandam! There you cut and hack again. My dear fellow, I was reasonable, surely, not to ruin myself; but I've something now.' 'Are. you certain, Monsieur?' said the Marquis; and he smiled very foolishly—almost pityingly. ' Do you mean to doubt it?' cried the Count, in astonishment. 'Well—dreams are dreams, but—substance is substance,' drawled the Marquis. ' Well, then, there's substance,' said the Count, producing from his pocket-book a 50,000fnote. . A basilisk could not have darted a keener, fascinating look than the Marquis at the note. It vanished—the dream was momentary. ' Ah! now you are a prince, indeed. Well, come, that's better than I expected,' exclaimed the Marquis with generous ardour. 'Yes, don't you imagine 'tis a dream. That's one, and I've more of the little fairies,' the Count said with great satisfaction, replacing it in his pocket-book, alongside of what seemed to be another one. The conversation thus went on, but a. keen observer might have noticed that the Marquis now and then overstepped the bounds of his nonchalance, In fact, he became unusually pleasing and charming in his talk. Cigar after cigar was smoked, glass after glass emptied, and the Count grew more open and noisy, the Marquis more fascinating and sparkling—a continuous stream of quiet accomplished question and answer. The Count was delighted, and praised the Marquis for a talent which he knew before was radiant with charms. When D had wrought d'O up to the fire of enthusiasm, he adroitly asked him to play ecarte. He accepted, and they sat down to play. The winnings were nearly equal, Count d'O having the advantage. Hour after hour sped by, and the lonely hour of midnight saw those two men earnestly playing, but with what different thoughts! Next morning, the Marquis dressed in the most brilliant manner, came rather hurriedly to the Count's hotel. When he entered the room, he expressed surprise to see the Count speaking rather anxiously with a gendarme. The Count was angry and restless. The Marquis, after a good stare at the officer, turned to the Count saying, ' Excuse me, Monsieur, but I'm sorry to disturb, you, and really you must put it down to my impatience. I have called for you to accompany me to the reception of the Russian Prince. They say it will be brilliant, and the Emperor expects a first-class levee," and the Marquis looked the most unconcerned and happiest of men. The Count was regarding him with almost a rude fixedness, the Marquis returned it without the least show of anger or jealousy. The Count turned away muttering, 'No, it cannot be !' ' Can I have your answer, Monsieur ?' continued the Marquis. ' Really, my dear Marquis, you must excuse me,' said the Count. ' Monsieur, I hope you will not consider me impertinent, but ' continued the Marquis with a bland smile. ' Pardon, Marquis, but a misfortune has happened.' ' Ah! Monsfeur, hasten to tell me,' said the Marquis with an air of sympathy. To be continued,

Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/GLOBE18741103.2.23

Bibliographic details

Globe, Volume II, Issue 133, 3 November 1874, Page 3

Word Count
857

HIS OWN DETECTIVE. Globe, Volume II, Issue 133, 3 November 1874, Page 3

HIS OWN DETECTIVE. Globe, Volume II, Issue 133, 3 November 1874, Page 3

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