n him last; and there was the old
man, whose rouleau had cost Calvert all his winnings. He looked fatigued
and exhausted, and seemed as if dropping asleep over his game, and yet
the noise was deafening--the clamour of the players, the cries of the
croupier, the clink of glasses, and the clink of gold!

"Now to test the adage that says when a man is pelted by all other
ill luck, that he'll win at play," said Calvert, as he threw, without
counting them, several Napoleons on the table. His venture was
successful, and so was another and another after it.

"This is yours, Sir," said she of the blonde ringlets,' handing him a
hundred franc-piece that had rolled amongst her own.

"Was it not to suggest a partnership that it went there?" said he,
smiling courteously.

"Who knows?" said she, half carelessly, half invitingly.

"Let us see what our united fortunes will do. This old man is dozing and
does not care for the game. Would you favour me with your place, Sir,
and take your rest with so much more comfort, on one of those luxurious
sofas yonder?"

"No!" said the old man, sternly. "I have as much right to be here as
you."

"The legal right I am not going to dispute. It is simply a matter of
expediency."

"Do you mean to stake all that gold, Sir?" interrupted the croupier,
addressing Calvert, who, during this brief discussion, had suffered his
money to remain till it had been doubled twice over.

"Ay, let it stay there," said he, carelessly.

"What have you done that makes you so lucky?" whispered the blonde
ringlets. "See, you have broken the bank!"

"What have I done, do you mean in the way of wickedness?" said he,
laughing as the croupiers gathered in a knot to count over the sum to be
paid to him. "Nearly everything. I give you leave to question me--so far
as your knowledge of the Decalogue goes--what have I not done?" And
so they sauntered down the room side by side and sat down on a sofa,
chatting and laughing pleasantly together, till the croupier came loaded
with gold and notes to pay all Calvert's winnings.

"What was it the old fellow muttered as he passed?" said Calvert; "he
spoke in German, and I didn't understand him."

"It was something about a line in your forehead that will bring you bad
luck yet."

"I have heard that before," cried he, springing hastily up. "I wish I
could get him to tell me more;" and he hastened down the stairs after
the old man, but when he gained the street he missed him