he world, princes and politicians, great soldiers
and grave judges, and even one or two travelling kings. It was very
likely that Miss Grant would have gone on to the Sporting Club, after
dinner with friends on Christmas Day.

He went across the road and a little down the hill, where the white
clubhouse owned by the Casino blazed with light. But as he reached it,
Dick Carleton dashed through the door, began running down the steps, and
almost cannoned into him.

"Beg pardon, Prince," he exclaimed. "I've just been told that a friend
of mine's losing like the dickens, in the _Cercle Prive_, and I'm going
to dart across and take out my subscription. I've never done it yet. But
it will be worth the hundred francs to stop her, if I can."

"Is it Miss Grant?" Vanno did not deliberately put the question, but
heard himself asking it.

"Why, yes it is," Carleton admitted. "Have you been in--have you seen
her?"

"No. But I felt somehow that you were speaking of Miss Grant."

"I thought you scarcely knew her," Dick caught him up, jealously.

"You are right. I--scarcely know her. But one has intuitions sometimes.
I must have had one then. So--she is losing? I heard she had wonderful
luck."

"She has had, up till now. Seemed as if she couldn't lose. Christmas
night, too! Isn't it a shame?" And Dick was off, hatless, in evening
dress without an overcoat. Vanno stood still in front of the Sporting
Club for a moment, watching the slim boyish figure go striding up the
hill. A liveried porter, seeing the Prince at the foot of the steps,
obsequiously opened the door, but Vanno made a sign that he did not wish
to enter. As soon as Dick had disappeared, Vanno followed him.

As he went seldom to the Casino, he had not taken a subscription to the
newest rooms, or _Cercle Prive_, where the price of admission is a
hundred francs. These rooms are for ardent gamblers who dislike playing
in a crowd, and Vanno, who had not felt inclined to play at all,
scarcely remembered their existence. Now he bought a ticket, however,
and having written his name upon it, followed Carleton at a little
distance, to a door at the far end of the trente et quarante rooms. His
heart was beating heavily, for in a few minutes he would perhaps know to
whom Mary had gone when she left the Hotel de Paris.

XIX

Even the new rooms were crowded, and preoccupied as he was, it struck
Vanno oddly, as it always did strike him anew in the Casino, to hear
ever