t my disappointment
could not be disagreeable to me, for it proved that the turn of his mind
had more than one point of resemblance with mine. He gave me at once a
soldier to serve me, and I had very quickly a bed, a table, and a few
chairs. He was kind enough to have my bed placed in his own room, and I
felt very grateful to him for that delicate attention.

He gave me an invitation to share his dinner, and proposed a game of
piquet afterwards, but from the very beginning he saw that I was no match
for him; he told me so, and he warned me that the officer who would
relieve him the next day was a better player even than he was himself; I
lost three or four ducats. He advised me to abstain from playing on the
following day, and I followed his advice. He told me also that he would
have company to supper, that there would be a game of faro, but that the
banker being a Greek and a crafty player, I ought not to play. I thought
his advice very considerate, particularly when I saw that all the punters
lost, and that the Greek, very calm in the midst of the insulting
treatment of those he had duped, was pocketing his money, after handing a
share to the officer who had taken an interest in the bank. The name of
the banker was Don Pepe il Cadetto, and by his accent I knew he was a
Neapolitan. I communicated my discovery to the officer, asking him why he
had told me that the man was a Greek. He explained to me the meaning of
the word greek applied to a gambler, and the lesson which followed his
explanation proved very useful to me in after years.

During the five following days, my life was uniform and rather dull, but
on the sixth day the same French officer was on guard, and I was very
glad to see him. He told me, with a hearty laugh, that he was delighted
to find me still in the guard-house, and I accepted the compliment for
what it was worth. In the evening, we had the same bank at faro, with the
same result as the first time, except a violent blow from the stick of
one of the punters upon the back of the banker, of which the Greek
stoically feigned to take no notice. I saw the same man again nine years
afterwards in Vienna, captain in the service of Maria Theresa; he then
called himself d'Afflisso. Ten years later, I found him a colonel, and
some time after worth a million; but the last time I saw him, some
thirteen or fourteen years ago, he was a galley slave. He was handsome,
but (rather a singular thing) in spite of his be