School of cheating—Travelling Greeks—Le Service—Formidable manoeuvre—Imperceptible signs—The business of the Comtois—The coup de retraite—Abundant harvest—Prodigality and debauch—Fortune takes her reprisal.

The three associates at first always worked together, and made some good hits in several of the gambling houses in the metropolis; but finding at length, that, as the number of Greeks increased, the number of victims lessened, they determined on starting a clandestine hell of their own, at the head of which they placed a very respectable lady of their acquaintance, named Madame de Haut-Castel, familiarly called "la Pompadour."

To Chaffard was deputed the task of recruiting for dupes, and drawing them away from other houses.

This establishment prospered very well for some time, but, one fine day, they perceived that their affairs were entangled.

A good number of habituÉs, who had been introduced as dupes, after having been cleaned out by the masters of the place, took their revenge on the new recruits, and fleeced them with infinite skill.

AndrÉas soon suspected, that there was no faith to be placed in the "Fencing-Master," and discovered that he, in conjunction with "la Pompadour," whose admirer and devoted slave he had become, had started a sort of class, for men who had nearly ruined themselves by gambling; to whom, for a handsome douceur, they taught some of their best tricks in cheating.

The two other associates were incensed at this discovery, but dared not show how exasperated they were, fearing, as they did, the sword of Chaffard; so they contented themselves with concealing their disgust, and paying him off in his own coin. They decided to quit Paris; and, giving as a reason, their wish to explore the watering and bathing places during the summer season, they left the establishment in Paris to the care of the "Fencing-Master," with full power to do what he pleased, nay even to dispose of it if he liked.

During their journey, the two rogues invented and arranged, the most cunning and dexterous tricks.

They particularly made a study of a practice well known amongst Greeks, and called "le Service," which is neither more nor less, than a series of almost imperceptible signals.

The following is the way their scheme was carried out.

The two confederates bend their steps towards some watering place, which is known to be frequented by gamblers.

Raymond, "The Marquis," has the principal rÔle allotted to him. He arrives; goes to the best hotel, and passes himself off as a rich young heir-presumptive, or an eldest son.

He is careful not to call himself a Russian prince, or an Englishman, as both these characters have been so often assumed by swindlers, that that fact alone would raise suspicion. Indeed, the names of Russian princes and rich English families, are now so well-known to the Greeks, that he could not, without danger, venture to create new names and titles for either of these countries.

At the table d'hÔte of the hotel, Raymond, by his polite, easy, and elegant manners, wins golden opinions from the persons around him. After dinner, he joins his new friends, walks out with them, and afterwards goes with them to look on at the gambling-tables.

If he plays, it is with great caution and moderation. He generally contents himself with looking on, that is to say, he watches the play of his future victims, and never attempts a coup, until the arrival of his associate. He is sure not to be long after him, and selects an hotel as far as possible from that of his accomplice.

The two scamps, when they meet, feign not to know one another; they even affect to have no tastes in common.

AndrÉas walks up to the gambling-table with an air of indifference, makes one or two bets, as if he did not care much whether he won or lost, and refuses to take the cards, under the pretence that he does not know how to play.

But the time arrives, when these gentlemen commence their real game.

They are seated at an ÉcartÉ-table.

Raymond is playing. At first, to prevent suspicion, he loses several games, and resigns his hand, which, however, when the play is animated and the stakes high, he takes up again.

AndrÉas is betting on the opposite side, but his bets are so trifling, that it will make little difference to the pair, even should he lose.

This artful accomplice takes up a standing position, behind his victim, and opposite his friend. With his hands behind his back, he seems as if he cared very little about the game. But all the time, he is paying the greatest attention, and working his secret telegraph for the benefit of Raymond.

I will endeavour to explain, in a few words, this formidable system of trickery.

THE SECRET TELEGRAPH.

The number of cards required in the game of Piquet is thirty-two; now all these thirty-two cards, may, by this system, be pointed out by twelve signals, that is to say, eight for the value of the cards, and four for the suits.

At ÉcartÉ, the number of signals is still less, as it is only requisite to designate the numbers.

But to make these signals, it is not necessary, as stated by some authors, to use any exaggerated signs, such as to cough, sneeze, blow the nose, or beat a tattoo on the table. They must have a very low estimate of the Greek, if they suppose him capable of these palpable evolutions.

No; the modern Greek would be ashamed of such childish performances. Unfortunately for the dupes, the signals he makes, can only be seen and recognised by his accomplice. Of this, my readers will be able to judge for themselves, by the following explanatory table:—

If the confederate looks at—

And at the same time that he tells the card, he also tells the colour, by the following signs:

Thus, for instance, if the Greek wishes to tell, that the adversary holds the queen, the knave, and the ace of hearts; he looks successively, at the cards of his adversary, at the stakes, and on the opposite side, holding his mouth slightly open the whole time.

From this it will be seen, that the secret telegraph may be used for all games alike, and put in requisition wherever there are spectators. In fact, nothing is more easy at piquet, than to indicate by the aid of these signals, when you are to take in cards, and when to refuse. I have only thought it necessary, to give an example of some of the simplest and easiest signs; but I may add, that some sharpers have a large, and varied catalogue of signals, to designate different things, as circumstances require.

This secret telegraph is so nearly imperceptible, that it is difficult to describe, and quite impossible to detect.

The Greek, who is playing, is careful not to win always. After three or four runs of luck, he loses and leaves the table, according to the instructions conveyed by his confederate. This is called "The Retreat."

To cover any losses incurred by this move, the accomplice has taken care to double his bets, and thus to reimburse themselves for their voluntary sacrifice.

AndrÉas and his friend were, moreover, adepts in every kind of sleight of hand trick, which, in many instances, they rendered still more advantageous, by performing what they termed "Coups en duplicata."

Thus, for example, if they were together at the same bouillotte table, they pretended not to be acquainted with one another, and even looked at each other with cool indifference; thus they could, whilst playing, very well manage to cheat, without exciting suspicion.

Instead of each cheating to win for himself, as might be supposed, they artfully contrived that the one who had the deal, and held the cards, should have bad cards and lose, whilst his confederate had all the luck, and won.

Sometimes, whilst giving all four kings to his accomplice, the other would also manage, to hand over the four queens to one of their victims, so as to raise his hopes, and induce him to double his stakes.

The villany of these rogues, therefore, could not be suspected, as the dealer never was the winner.

It was at Boulogne-sur-Mer, that AndrÉas and Raymond fixed themselves, to carry on their criminal performances. The people there, were rich and prosperous, and the harvest was abundant; though it was rather lessened by their gains being shared with Achille Chauvignac, the swindler par excellence of the place, who pointed out to them where the best game lay.

I must here pause to say a few words.

Hearing so much said of the enormous profits gained by swindlers, the reader will, naturally enough, conceive, that in the end, all Greeks must of necessity become millionaires and capitalists.

Far from it; notwithstanding their great profits, this reprobate class never prospers; on an average, out of every hundred Greeks, 99+1 die in want. The explanation is easy.

The recruits of "modern Greece," without exception, are men whose debauchery and prodigality have brought them to ruin.

Nothing would be more difficult, than to make a sharper thrifty and economical. They are all dissolute, prodigal, and ostentatious, according to their means.

These gentlemen, far from proportioning their expenses to their incomes, think not of the future, and live in extravagant luxury. They have horses, carriages, mistresses, &c., &c., and each one endeavours to outdo all his acquaintance in his expenditure.

It is hardly credible, but nevertheless true, that a sharper sometimes loses money at play. These men, blasÉs with the successes which they themselves have created, sometimes sigh for the excitement caused by real play. To obtain it, they rush to the roulette or rouge-et-noir table. In these two games the Greek finds retributive justice, and fortune takes a sure revenge for many former deeds of wrong.