(_From an Imaginative French Source._)
War had broken out between France and Great Britain. In the
Mediterranean--owing to several French ironclads having got through
into the Black Sea and being unable to get out again--the French fleet
was shut up in Toulon harbour by a powerful English squadron. It was
just at this time that some curious events were taking place in the
neighbouring seaside resort of Sablettes-les-Bains, recently purchased
by an English company, which was running the place as a kind of
compromise between Boulogne and Monte Carlo.
"_Messieurs, faites vos jeux!_"--was heard the monotonous refrain of
the burly "Croupier," who, with face rather pale, and a
preoccupied air, was presiding over one of the numerous games of
"_Petits-Chevaux_," combined with "_Rouge et Noir_" which were
proceeding in the gorgeously-upholstered and magnificently-lighted
"_Salle des Papas Perdus_" of the "_Cercle des Etrangers_" of this
Paradise of the Middle Sea.
Suddenly the Croupier sprang from his seat, threw off his loose
outer coat, and displayed the well-known uniform of an Officer in
Her Majesty's Royal Shropshire Yeomanry Carabineers. All the other
Croupiers did the same. Astonishment and dismay were depicted on the
countenances of the players.
"Gentlemen," said the Croupier, "I am sorry to say you are all my
prisoners. Resist, and you will be shot without mercy!"
"But I had just staked twenty thousand Louis on the black!" ejaculated
a bewildered Gaul.
"You have lost your stake, Monsieur," replied the Croupier, with
politeness. "It is red, not black;" and, in a moment, all the English
visitors who thronged the rooms had also thrown off _their_ overcoats,
and the hall was filled with red-coats.
"Treachery! _Perfide Alb_----" the Gaul shouted; but ere he could
rise from his seat to give the alarm to the Toulon garrison, as he had
fully intended doing, a hundred swords (made in Birmingham) had passed
simultaneously through his body. Their stakes fell from the trembling
hands of the players.
"Then are we to understand," asked another Frenchman, who had
somewhat recovered from the first shock of surprise, "that the English
Government has suppressed Sablettes-les-Bains because it disapproves
of the game of _Petits-Chevaux_?"
"Not at all," replied the Croupier-Officer. "It is a military
_coup-de-main_, that's all. The English company running this place,
was, of course, in the pay of the British War Office. By a prearranged
system of signals we have been making known everything that is going
on at Toulon to the British Admiral out at sea. You may perhaps have
noticed what an extremely large orchestra took part in last night's
free classical concert; they were English marines disguised as
musicians. And the gardens attached to the Casino, which rival those
of Monte Carlo, what do you think those grassy slopes crowned with
olives and orange-trees are in reality? Why, the artfully-contrived
glacis of the impregnable fortress inside which you are now standing,
and which I have the honour to command!"
Just then the booming of cannon was heard outside.
"It is our guns playing on the defences of Toulon!" exclaimed the
Officer. "Toulon is ours!"
And the treacherous Britons, having cleared the tables of the
five-franc pieces still remaining on them, proceeded, with the aid of
the Germans and Italians, to the dismemberment of France.
* * * * *
Nautical Economy.
["It is no use our building ships without the men to man
them."--_Times' Correspondent._]
PROVERB suggested by the above:--"Do not spoil the ship for a pound
of tar."
* * * * *
NOVEL PROCEEDING.--New Issue, _Japhet in Search of Something
Farther_. By MARRIOTT.
* * * * *