thickened in the atmosphere of the room.
I had entered the place to laugh; I felt
that if I stood quietly looking on much
longer, I should be more likely to weep. So,
to excite myself out of the depression of
spirits which was fast stealing over me, I
unfortunately went to the table, and began
to play. Still more unfortunately, as the
event will show, I won—won prodigiously;
won incredibly; won at such a rate, that the
regular players at the table crowded round
me; and staring at my stakes with hungry,
superstitious eyes, whispered to one another,
that the English stranger was going to break
the bank.

The game was Rouge et Noir. I had played
at it in every city in Europe, without,
however, the care or the wish to study the Theory
of Chances—that philosopher's stone of all
gamblers! And a gambler, in the strict
sense of the word, I had never been. I was
heart-whole from the corroding passion for
play. My gaming was a mere idle amusement.
I never resorted to it by necessity,
because I never knew what it was to want
money. I never practised it so incessantly
as to lose more than I could afford, or to gain
more than I could coolly pocket without being
thrown off my balance by my good luck. In
short, I had hitherto frequented gambling-
tables—just as I frequented ball-rooms and
opera-houses—because they amused me, and
because I had nothing better to do with my
leisure hours.

But, on this occasion, it was very different
—now, for the first time in my life, I felt
what the passion for play really was. My
success first bewildered, and then, in the
most literal meaning of the word, intoxicated
me. Incredible as it may appear, it
is nevertheless true, that I only lost, when
I attempted to estimate chances, and played
according to previous calculation. If I left
everything to luck, and staked without any
care or consideration, I was sure to win—to
win in the face of every recognised probability
in favour of the bank. At first, some of the
men present ventured their money safely
enough on my colour; but I speedily
increased my stakes to sums which they dared
not risk. One after another they left off
playing, and breathlessly looked on at my
game. Still, time after time, I staked higher
and higher; and still won. The excitement
in the room rose to fever pitch. The silence
was interrupted, by a deep, muttered chorus
of oaths and exclamations in different
languages, every time the gold was shovelled
across to my side of the table—even the
imperturbable croupier dashed his rake on the
floor in a (French) fury of astonishment at
my success. But one man present preserved
his self-possession; and that man was my
friend. He came to my side, and whispering
in English, begged me to leave the place,
satisfied with what I had already gained. I
must do him the justice to say, that he
repeated his warnings and entreaties several
times; and only left me and went away, after
I had rejected his advice (I was to all intents
and purposes gambling-drunk) in terms which
rendered it impossible for him to address me
again that night.

Shortly after he had gone, a hoarse voice
behind me cried:— " Permit me, my dear sir!
—permit me to restore to their proper place
two Napoleons which you have dropped.
Wonderful luck, sir!—I pledge you my word
of honour as an old soldier, in the course of
my long experience in this sort of thing, I
never saw such luck as yours!—never! Go
on, sir—Sacré mille bombes! Go on boldly,
and break the bank!"

I turned round and saw, nodding and
smiling at me with inveterate civility, a tall
man, dressed in a frogged and braided
surtout. If I had been in my senses, I should
have considered him, personally, as being
rather a suspicious specimen of an old soldier.
He had goggling bloodshot eyes, mangy
mustachios, and a broken nose. His voice
betrayed a barrack-room intonation of the
worst order, and he had the dirtiest pair of
hands I ever saw—even in France. These
little personal peculiarities exercised,
however, no repelling influence on me. In the
mad excitement, the reckless triumph of that
moment, I was ready to " fraternise " with
anybody who encouraged me in my game. I
accepted the old soldier's offered pinch of
snuff; clapped him on the back, and swore
he was the honestest fellow in the world; the
most glorious relic of the Grand Army that
I had ever met with. " Go on! " cried my
military friend, snapping his fingers in ecstasy,
—" Go on, and win! Break the bank—Mille
tonnerres! my gallant English comrade, break
the bank! "

And I did go on—went on at such a rate,
that in another quarter of an hour the
croupier called out: " Gentlemen! the bank
has discontinued for to-night." All the notes,
and all the gold in that " bank," now lay in a
heap under my hands; the whole floating
capital of the gambling-house was waiting to
pour into my pockets!

"Tie up the money in your pocket-
handkerchief, my worthy sir," said the old soldier,
as I wildly plunged my hands into my heap
of gold. " Tie it up, as we used to tie up a
bit of dinner in the Grand Army; your
winnings are too heavy for any breeches pockets
that ever were sown. There! that's it!—
shovel them in, notes and all! Credié! what
luck!—Stop! another Napoleon on the floor!
Ah! sacré petit polisson de Napoleon! have I
found thee at last? Now then, sir—two
tight double-knots each way with your
honourable permission, and the money's safe.
Feel it! feel it, fortunate sir! hard and
round as a cannon ball—Ah, bah! if they
had only fired such cannon balls at us, at
Austerlitz—nom d'une pipe! if they only
had! And now, as an ancient grenadier, as