d. "This is evidently
very valuable.... Call the ten pounds a loan."

He glanced at the coin as I laid it before him; and then, with a
widening of pupil, at me. I was startled to see him hesitate.

"No," he decided. "No. But look here, that's decent of you. I will say
it's downright decent."

"Not at all," I protested virtuously. "It might be worth many times what
I paid you."

"That wouldn't worry me."

But something was worrying him as he frowned down at the golden disk. I
felt a trouble on the man that bit deeper than his losses. He had an
odd, abrupt trick of passing a hand hard over his brow as if to brush
away some constant irritation, a gesture at once naive and passionate.
At such times he looked about him with an uneasy air, puzzled and, I
could almost say, resentful.

"You must be very much attached to the thing," I persisted.

He slid it back to me brusquely, with a jab of his forefinger.

"Thanks. Would you mind putting it out of sight?"

We were sitting at one of the small tables that lined the side of the
little room. It so chanced that I sat facing the bar, which was not a
proper bar at all but a long, low sideboard, whereon an attendant
compounded drinks. My new friend was at my left and thus failed to see
what now I saw--a detached head glaring out of the wall, sharp and
definite as a cameo. I was slow to connect this singular phenomenon
with a strip of mirror over the sideboard and regarded it merely with
wonder, for the face was very much alive, convulsed and eager. Tardily,
then, I recognized the jet spadebeard of the superior banker, and at the
same moment felt a hot breath stirring in my back hair.

"Hello!" I exclaimed, and spun around in time further to recognize a
pair of perfect coat tails; they were just disappearing through the
doorway into the _salle_ behind me.

He could not have had ten seconds' start, but when I reached the doorway
the fellow had vanished in a fringe of bystanders. Another banker,
bald-headed and not in the least superior, was now in charge at
roulette, and I noticed that the fat croupier had also been replaced.

I turned back to the attendant at the bar, a pop-eyed nondescript in a
white jacket.

"Who was that?" I demanded indignantly. "Who is that man, and what the
devil did he mean by blowing down the back of my neck?"

He stared at me, with fluttering lids, chalk-faced--I was to appreciate
presently what terror rode that obscure soul.

"_Nao comprie