but common courtesy to wait a moment. A
thousand doubloons, the red queen--fifteen hundred," added he,
quickly,--"fifteen, and thirty-five--or eight." So saying, he pushed
with both hands the great heap of gold pieces into the middle of the
table; and then, with eyes bloodshot and glaring, he watched each card
that fell from the banker's fingers. When the first row of cards were
dealt, all was in his favor, and, as the banker took up the second pack,
a long-suppressed sigh broke from the gambler's bosom. It seemed, at
length, as if fortune had grown weary of persecuting him.

"Come, Enrique," said a handsomely dressed and fine-looking man, who
stood opposite to him, "luck has turned at last; there is nothing but
the queen of spades against you!"

As if by some magic spell he had called the card, the words were not out
when it dropped upon the table. A cry of mingled amazement and horror
burst from the players, whose natures would seem to recognize some
superstitious influence in such marked casualties. As for Enrique, he
stood perfectly still and silent; a horrible smile, the ghastly evidence
of an hysterical effort, sat upon his rigid features, and at length two
or three heavy drops of blood trickled from his nostril and fell upon
his shirt.

"Where's Roland?" said he, in a faint whisper, to a young man behind
him.

"I saw him with Maritana, walking towards the three fountains."

Enrique's pallid cheek grew scarlet, and, rudely pushing his way through
the crowd, he disappeared from view.

"There goes a man in a good humor to board a prize," said one of
the bystanders, coolly, and the play proceeded without a moment's
interruption.

With his broad-leaved hat drawn down upon his brows, and his head sunk
upon his bosom, he traversed the winding walks with the step of one who
knew their every turning; at last he reached a lonely and unfrequented
part of the garden, where the path, leading for some distance along the
margin of a small lake, suddenly turned off towards a flower terrace,
the midst of which "the three fountains" stood.

Instead of taking the shortest way to the spot, Enrique left the walk
and entered a grove of trees, through whose thick shade be proceeded
silently and cautiously. The air was calm and motionless, and none
save one who had received the education of a prairie hunter could have
followed that track so noiselessly. By degrees the wood became open, and
his progress more circumspect, when