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Updated: June 22, 2025
There is but one Paris, and pleasure is the true profit of all who visit it." "My dear De Simoncourt, I am appalled to hear you perpetrate a pun! By the way, you have met Mr. Basil Arbuthnot at my rooms?" M. de Simoncourt lifted his hat, and was graciously pleased to remember the circumstance. "And now," pursued Dalrymple, "having met, what shall, we do next?
"Can we do nothing to help you, Monsieur de Simoncourt?" "Nothing, thank you. I have a carriage down the road, and must get further assistance from the village. You had better lose no time in leaving Paris." "I suppose not. Good-morning." "Good-morning,"
Almost before I had time to do more than observe that it was driven by a moustachioed and lavender-kidded gentleman, it drew up before the house, and a trim tiger jumped down, and thundered at the door. At that moment, the gentleman, taking advantage of the pause to light a cigar, looked up, and I recognised the black moustache and sinister countenance of Monsieur de Simoncourt.
He did hold the king very often, and there are some queer stories told of him in Vienna by the officers of the Emperor's Guard. At all events, this is not the first duel he has had to fight in defence of his good-fortune!" De Simoncourt now coming forward, we adjourned at once to the wood behind the village.
M. de Simoncourt looked at his watch a magnificent affair, decorated with a costly chain, and a profusion of pendant trifles and threw the last-half of his cigar into the fireplace. "You must excuse me, mon cher" said he. "I have at least a dozen calls to make before dinner." Dalrymple rose, readily enough, and took a roll of bank-notes from the cash-box.
Apprehensive of I knew not what, I pushed back my chair, and left the table. The rooms were now much fuller more stars and moustachios; more velvets and laces, and Paris diamonds. Fresh tables, too, had been opened for lansquenet, baccarat, and écarté. At one of these I saw M. de Simoncourt. When he laid down his cards for the deal, I seized the opportunity to inquire for my friend.
Chéron, I believe, is still practising in Paris; and Monsieur de Simoncourt, I have no doubt, continues to exercise the profession of Chevalier d'Industrie, with such failures and successes as are incidental to that career. As for my early amourettes, they have disappeared from my path as utterly as though they had never crossed it.
Have you any engagement for the small hours, De Simoncourt?" "I am quite at your disposal. Where were your bound for?" "Anywhere everywhere. I want excitement." "Would a hand at écarté, or a green table, have any attraction for you?" suggested De Simoncourt, falling into the trap as readily as one could have desired. "The very thing, if you know where they are to be found!"
The next moment I saw him spring into the cabriolet, take his place beside Monsieur de Simoncourt, and drive away, with Bijou following at a pace that might almost have tried a greyhound. "My cousin, De Caylus, has lately returned from Algiers on leave of absence," said Madame de Courcelles, after a few moments of awkward silence, during which I had not known what to say.
Here De Simoncourt came up, and hearing the last words, drew me aside. "I act for De Caylus," he whispered. "Pistols, of course?" I nodded, still all bewilderment at my novel position. "Your man received the first blow, so is entitled to the first shot." I nodded again. "I don't know a better place," he went on, "than Bellevue.
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