In contrast to his fellow Frenchman, he was even more agreeable and easygoing than usual, but also a bit unfocused, the way our old friend Father Barry used to get when he’d had a glass or two of my father’s brandy. “I was supposed to teach you the Knight’s Tour,” said Mulhouse, “but I understand you taught it to yourself. I trust you were a good teacher. And a good student.” “Shall I show you?” I said eagerly. Mulhouse laughed. “If you can do it to Maelzel’s satisfaction that is all that matters. We will work on endgames, instead.” He drew a small morocco-bound book from the pocket of his frock coat and opened it to a drawing of a chessboard with six pieces of each color arranged on it. “There are seventeen endgame positions in this book. Your opponent will have the opportunity to choose any one of them, and also to choose which color he will play.” Now, an endgame, as you may know, is just what the name implies: the final series of moves that decides the outcome of the game—although in fact the outcome is often predetermined by the first few moves.
