Peter, who now continued his flight with even greater rapidity than before, came at last to a street where he no longer saw any one likely to recognise him, and sat down trembling, upon a bench, not knowing what was to become of him. He had heard the groom also say that he would catch him, and he had no doubt that he was watching for his return. On raising his eyes, he perceived that he was before a tavern to which his comrades had taken him to play at cards, and where he had seen one of them win a hundred francs. His heart beat high at the idea of gaining as much, and a detestable thought took possession of his mind. Perhaps in hazarding thirty sous only of the eighteen francs with which he had been intrusted, he might regain all that he owed; but if he happened to lose! This reflection made him tremble. He went away; then returned, the temptation increasing every moment. At last, picking up a stone, he said to himself, "If in throwing this against the wall, I hit the mark that I see there, it will be a sign that I shall win!" He placed himself very near the wall, that he might not miss it, threw the stone, hit the spot, and went in. He was so excited, that he scarcely knew what he was about. Never before had he committed so bad an action, nor would he have committed it now, doubtless, had he been in his right mind. But it is one of the consequences of bad actions that they place us in circumstances which disturb the judgment, and deprive it of the strength necessary for directing our conduct. Had any one, at this moment, told Peter that he was committing the act of a thief, he would have trembled from head to foot; yet such was, nevertheless, the fact; but he did not think of it. At first he only hazarded thirty sous, and won: he won again, and fancied himself already rich. Had he stopped there, he would have had, if not sufficient to get out of difficulty, at least enough to satisfy, in some degree, one or two of his creditors; but by doing this, he would have been rewarded for his fault, and by a law of Providence, evil-doers never know how to stop at the point where their faults would be unattended with danger. He who, in doing wrong, relies upon his prudence to protect him from exposure, always finds himself deceived; the love of gain, or of pleasure, ends by dragging him on to the action which is to bring about his punishment. Peter was desirous of gaining more, and he lost not only what he had won, but his stake also. The hopes that he had at first formed, rendered him only the more ardent in the game, and, besides, how was he to replace the thirty sous? He hazarded thirty more, lost them, then more; at last the whole eighteen francs are gone. He left the house in despair, and wandered through the streets unconsciously, neither knowing where he was, nor what he was doing, still less what he intended to do. He heard it strike four o'clock, and remembered that at five he had to wait at table. He would be asked by his mistress's mother whether he had paid the eighteen francs, and though for some time past he had got into the habit of telling falsehoods, his conscience accused him so vehemently, that he felt he should not be able to reply. However, like a man who throws himself into a river without knowing whether he shall get out of it again, he took, mechanically, the way to the house; but as he approached it, he fancied he saw the shop girl belonging to the tradesman, to whom he had been ordered to carry the eighteen francs, coming out of it. He had no doubt that she had been to ask for the money, and feeling that it would be quite impossible for him to enter again his master's dwelling, he turned away, and recommenced running, without knowing whither he went. It was winter: night came on, and he at last stopped, and sat down upon a step, and felt that he was without a home. Nothing in the world would have induced him to return to his parents, and it would have been equally impossible for him to expose himself to the look of the honest M. Dubourg. The cold increased with the night, and it began to freeze rather severely. Peter had eaten nothing since the morning, and though his heart was oppressed, yet hunger began to make itself felt at last. All he could do, however, was to weep; for what resource was left to him in the world? At times this hunger, cold, suffering, and despair weighed so heavily upon him, that he would start up, and run away, whither he knew not, but determined to find some spot where he should suffer less.