Part 19 (1/2)

she exclaimed, turning upon him resentfully. ”I have already told you that I do not wish him to play.”

”I have not invited him,” Zertho declared with a laugh. ”If he chooses to follow the run I cannot well prevent it.”

At that moment Brooker, who still kept his keen eyes riveted upon the table, heard the croupier's voice, hesitated a moment, and taking two rapid steps forward tossed upon the red diamond the four notes he had just picked up.

Whirr-r! click! went the ball again, and the croupier's announcement a few seconds later told him that he had won four hundred francs.

Liane, annoyed, flushed slightly, compressed her lips and turning from them with a gesture of anger walked straight out from the great gilded salons so hateful to her. As she pa.s.sed, many turned and remarked how beautiful she was. She knew that the mania which had caused her father's downfall had returned, that this double success would cause him to plunge still more deeply. Zertho smiled contemptuously at her fears, and neither men went after her to induce her to return.

The Prince, on the contrary, shrugged his shoulders, and laughing said,--

”She's annoyed. She'll return in a minute or two, when she knows you've won. Now that she's gone I'm going to risk a little myself.”

At that moment two players rose from their chairs, and the pair so well-known to the croupiers and attendants ”marked” their places. The man sitting before the red and black disc which slowly revolved while the players laid down their coin, gave both men a little nod of recognition.

”_Messieurs, faites vos jeux_,” cried the croupier.

”What's your fancy? The impair?” Zertho inquired of his companion in the same tone as was his wont long ago.

”Of course,” the other replied, selecting at the same moment three notes from those in his hand, and tossing them over upon the marked square indicated.

Once more sounded the monotonous cry, ”_Rien ne va plus_!” The croupier sat immovable as one joyless, hopeless, and impa.s.sionate, a veritable machine raking in and paying out gold and silver and notes without caring one jot whether the bank gained or lost. The ball was an instant later sent on its way, and Brooker watching, saw it suddenly spring about and fall.

Again he won.

With one elbow resting upon the table he gathered up his winnings with that impa.s.sive manner which marks the professional gamester as one apart. Whether he gained or lost Erle Brooker never made sign, except sometimes when he lost more heavily than usual he would perhaps smile a trifle bitterly. Already the furrows were showing in his brow, and his deep-set eyes watched keenly the run of the game as time after time he would hesitate, apparently reflecting, until the ball was already in motion, and then toss his notes into the ”manque” or ”pa.s.se,” the first being the numbers 1 to 18, and the latter 19 to 36, or place them upon the lines of the various numbered squares, whichever he deemed wisest for the composite chances of a ”sixain,” a ”carre,” a ”douzaine,” or a ”colonne.” Heedless of all around him, heedless of his old partner at his side, the man who had once shared his losses and his winnings, heedless of the pale delicate girl who was wandering about alone somewhere outside, fearing lest he should lose the whole of the little money they now had, he won and won, and still won.

Sometimes he lost. Twice in succession the bank gained six hundred francs of his winnings; still nothing daunted, he continued, and found that the knowledge he had gained of the game proved true, for he won again and again, although sometimes doubling and even trebling his stake.

The crowd of eager ones around the table now began to wait until he selected the place whereon he should put down his stake, and commenced to follow his play narrowly, playing when he played, and refraining when he held back.

Zertho noticed this and whispered: ”Your luck's changed, old chap. Why not try bigger stakes?”

”I know what I'm about,” the other snapped viciously, pulling towards him a dozen notes from the ”pa.s.se” opposite. ”If you won't play yourself keep count for me, and see that I get fully paid.”

Zertho well knew that his old partner had now become oblivious to everything. His mouth was hard-set, his eyes gleamed with a fierce excitement he strove to suppress, and great beads of perspiration stood upon his heavily-lined brow. A lady standing behind him, a tourist evidently, reached over his head to stake her modest five-franc piece on the red, whereupon he turned, and muttering something uncomplimentary regarding ”those women who ought to play for sous,” withered her with a look.

Somebody had handed Zertho one of the cards printed with parallel columns under the letters ”N” and ”R,” with a pencil wherewith to keep count. He glanced up, and noticing all eyes directed upon them, suddenly reflected that if any person came up who knew him as Prince Zertho d'Auzac it would scarcely be dignified to be discovered counting the gains and acting as clerk to a professional gamester.

But Brooker wanted money badly, and was winning; therefore he could not disturb him. Both men were gamblers at heart, and the one feared to move just as much as the other, lest the spell should be broken and the luck change.

The good fortune attending the Captain's play seemed to the onlookers little short of marvellous. With apparent unconcern he flung down his notes, sometimes six or ten twisted carelessly together, and each time there came back towards him upon the point of the croupier's rake his own notes with a similar number of others.

Suddenly, having thrown four notes upon the ”manque,” he rested his hot whirling brow upon his hand. The ball clicked into its little numbered part.i.tion, the croupier announced that the number 20 had gained, and he knew he had lost. The excited crowd sitting and standing around the table exchanged smiles and glances, and at that moment the croupiers changed.

Again the game was made, and the man upon whom everyone's eyes were turned threw five hundred francs upon the simple chance of the red.

Black again won.

Once more he threw a similar sum upon the red. A third time black won.

He had lost fourteen hundred francs in three spins of the wheel!