Softly opening the door, Manasseh found himself in a low but spacious
apartment. Twelve men were seated around a table on which stood a
single tallow candle, whose feeble rays could hardly pierce the
enveloping clouds of tobacco smoke. The company was engaged in that
engrossing pursuit which, as is well known, claimed so much of the
officers' time during the campaigns of the period,--they were playing
cards.

One chair in the circle was empty. Perhaps its former occupant had
gambled away his last kreutzer and left the room. At any rate, the
newcomer advanced without hesitation and took the vacant seat. It may be
that the players were too absorbed in their game to notice him; or
possibly they had so recently come together that they were not yet
sufficiently acquainted to detect a stranger's presence; or, again, the
feeble light and the clouds of tobacco smoke may have rendered it
impossible to distinguish one's neighbours very clearly. Whatever the
reason, the stranger's advent elicited no comment. A pocketful of money
furnished him all the language he needed to speak, and the cards were
dealt to him as a matter of course. Opposite him sat the Wallachian
leader.

The game proceeded and the stakes rose higher and higher. One after
another the losers dropped out, until at last Manasseh and the
Wallachian commander were left pitted against each other, a heap of
coins and banknotes between them. Fortune declared for Manasseh, and he
swept the accumulated stakes into his pocket. At this the others looked
him more sharply in the face. "Who is he?" was asked by one and another.

"Why, you are Manasseh Adorjan!" exclaimed the leader at length, in
astonishment. "What do you mean by this rashness?"

The faces around him assumed threatening looks, and more than one
muttered menace fell on his ear; but the hardy intruder betrayed no sign
of uneasiness.

"I trust I am among gentlemen," he remarked, quietly, "who will not seek
a base revenge on a player that has won their money from them."

The words failed not of their effect. Honour forbade that a hand should
be raised against the fortunate winner.

"But, Adorjan," interposed the leader, in a tone of mingled wonder and
vexation, "how did you come here and what is your purpose?"

"Time enough to talk about that when we have finished playing," was the
careless rejoinder. "First I must win the rest of your money. So have
the goodness to resume your seats."

The company bega