The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1872-06-16
His Own Detective.

His Own Detective.
Count DO was one of the CAV sons
OF Psrls. He originally possessed a
large fortune; but dissolute habits-the
vortex OF wealth and title-had expended
the better part of q prinoely independ-
ence. he was famous as the widest.
the most daring. and yet most generous
OF protlgates. However, repeated losses
at ecarte had somewhat drained his pnrse
Unllke the better part Of the licentious.
he had the wisdom to dispense will,
many follies; yet he still kept up small
whit of dissipation amoug few boon
companions, the choicest of whom WAS
tue Marquis D D-. However, q few
days before our tale commences. a rich
relation dying. left him O considerable
sum OF money, and once more he was re-
instated in his pleasures, while his boon
companions, like vultares scenting their
prey, began hocking round his open
purse. One evening, Count DO
and the Marquis D. were sitting in
rich!y-adorned apartment belonging to
the former, when the conversation turned
upon bis late good fortune. The Mar
quls D. listened to the Counts re-
marks with seeming nonchalauce. He
was whiting finely scented cigar, and
deeply employed in the philosophy of
smoke. He was tall, exactly built
man. and thorough gentleman in man
ners and conversation, yet there was
something in the glitter Of calm dark
eye, something in the proudly curled
smile, which spoke of the man of emcr-
gency and talent. He was dissolute.
mad sqnandered o fortune; but was more
renowned for his skill in dueling, quiet
recklessDess, than debauchee.
"Yes, the old buck did it we'll, and
my thanks. l mustn't
be an utter villain. Rather Wild; but I
would not care for tout le monde to call
me naau0diS. LIE diable! even he is not
an utter rake, and the Count threw him
sell at length on his beautiful sofa.
while his countenance beamed o generous
good hnmor.
Eyes, most decidedly; but you are not
going to be a confirmed grandam? ?" and
the Marquis laughed slightly. 1t was a
clear laugh, but pregnant with snecr.
which the Count could not bear.
Sprlnging up from the sofa, rather in
dignant. and seating himself on chair,
"a grandaml There You cut and back
again. My dear fellow. was reasonable
surely, not to ruin myself; but I've some.
thing 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-sub-
stance is substance" drawled the Mar
quis.
"Well, then, there's substance, said
the Count. producing from his pocket.
book $4,000 franc noto.
A basilisk could not have darted q
keener, more fascinating look than the
Marquis at the note. It vanished-the
dream was momentary.
'Ah! now you are prince, indeed.
Well, come, that's better than 1 expect
ed" exclaimed the Marquis. with gene
rous ardor.
eyes. don't you imagine It's dream.
That's one, and I've moro 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 q
keen observer might have noticed that
the Marquis now and then overstepped
the bounds Of his nonchalance. In fact.
ne became unusually pleasing and charm
ing in his talk. Cigar after Cigar was
smoked, glass after glass emptied, and
the Count grew moro open and noisy.
the Marquis more fascinating and spark.
ling-a continuous stream of quiet ac
complished question and answer. The
Count was delighted, and praised the
Marquis for talent which he knew be-
fore was radiant with charms. When
D had wrought DO up to the
fire OF enthusiasm, he adroitly asked
him to play ecarie He accepted, and
they sat down to play. The winnings
were nearly equal, Count do having
the advantage. Hour after hour sped
by, and the lonely hour of mid night
saw those two men earnestly playing,
but with what different thoughtsl
Next morning, the Marquis, dressed
IN the most brilliant manner, came ra.
ther hurriedly to the Counts hotel.
Whep he entered the room, lie expressed
surprise to see the Count speaking rather
anxiously with genaarme. The Count
was angry and restless. The Marquis,
after good stare at the officer, turned
to the Count, saying: excuse me, mon
sleur, but I'm sorry to disturb you, and
really you must put it down to my impa-
kipnna / houo la