“‘What are our stakes?’ said Fénélon, presently; ‘it is for you to propose, as the luck seems to be all mine to-night.’ ‘They must be small, indeed,’ said M. de Talleyrand, drawing out his purse, which contained but little, and throwing it carelessly on the table. ‘Done!’ cried the chevalier, turning its contents out upon the green-cloth. ‘Come, courage; double or quits until morning!’ This first trial of skill was in a few moments decided in his favour, and he swept the contents of the purse, as he had done the louis-d’ors of the gaming-house, into his own heap, which seemed destined to grow monstrous.
“M. de Talleyrand played on, and grew more resolute as his adversary grew more ironical and insolent. He lost his watch; his chain and seals; the ring which he had saved amid all his embarrassment and poverty, during his uncertain wanderings in foreign climes; he lost the very buckles off his shoes, and the knee-clasps from his inexpressibles, and at last rose from the table, declaring that he must now go home, as he had nothing more to lose. ‘Pardon me,’ laughed the chevalier, ‘you have yet another stake against which I have no objection to venture this heap of gold, without counting.’ M. de Talleyrand still denied the possession of any article of value; but the chevalier pointed to his breast-pin—a long gilt pin surmounted by one of those scarlet berries with a black spot at the extremity, which we call _grains rouges d’Amerique_. M. de Talleyrand objected that the article was not worth a franc; scarcely, indeed, a few sous. It had been the gift of a negress at Philadelphia, and it was by a singular mistake that he had placed it in his bosom, instead of the one of great value which he usually wore. He had changed his dress at twilight, and, in passing his hand over the toilet-cushion, had drawn forth the trumpery ornament which he now displayed, instead of the emerald he had apparently mislaid when he had changed his cravat. The circumstance, which had been considered a freak on his part, had even attracted the attention of a neighbour at the club, who had pointed it out to him, and who had been much amused by the surprise which the discovery had occasioned.
“M. de Talleyrand vainly urged the utter worthlessness of the trinket. The chevalier was in high glee, and, insisting upon its following the rest of the spoils, placed it beside the goodly heap of gold upon the table, chuckling all the while with that irritating irony which would long before have dashed into fury any temper less calm than that of his companion. But M. de Talleyrand laughed with him, and, as he disengaged the pin from the plaits of his neckcloth, merely related how that, having saved the black cook at the house where he lodged, at Philadelphia, from a severe punishment, she had given him this bauble as a precious remembrance of her gratitude. It had been charmed by the Obeah man, she had told him, and was considered a talisman against evil fortune.