play is running high, and large bets are being laid,
he seems regardless about the result of the game--for this night only,
since it has never been so before. His air is at times abstracted--more
than ever after hearing that name--while he deals out the cards
carelessly, once or twice making mistakes. But as these have been
trifling, and readily rectified, the players around the table have taken
no particular notice of them, nor yet of his abstraction. It is not
sufficiently manifest to attract attention; and with the wonderful
command he has over himself, none of them suspect that he is at that
moment a prey to reflections of the strongest and bitterest kind.
There is one, however, who is aware of it, knowing the cause; this, a
man seated on the players' side of the table, and directly opposite the
dealer. He is a personage of somewhat squat frame, a little below
medium height, of swarth complexion, and straight black hair; to all
appearance a _native_ Californian, though not wearing the national
costume, but simply a suit of dark broadcloth. He lays his bet, staking
large sums, apparently indifferent as to the result; while at the same
time eyeing the deposits of the other players with eager, nervous
anxiety, as though their losses and gains concerned him more than his
own--the former, to all appearance, gladdening, the the latter making
him sad!
His behaviour might be deemed strange, and doubtless would, were there
any one to observe it. But there is not; each player is absorbed in his
own play, and the calculation of chances.
In addition to watching his fellow-gamesters around the table, the
seemingly eccentric individual ever and anon turns his eye upon the
dealer--its expression at such times being that of intense earnestness,
with something that resembles reproof--as if he were annoyed by the
latter handling his cards so carelessly, and would sharply rebuke him,
could he get the opportunity without being observed. The secret of the
whole matter being, that he is a sleeping partner in the Monte bank--the
moneyed one too; most of its capital having been supplied by him. Hence
his indifference to the fate of his own stakes--for winning or losing is
all the same to him--and his anxiety about those of the general circle
of players.
His partnership is not suspected; or, if so, only by the initiated.
Although sitting face to face with the dealer, no sign of recognition
passes between them, nor is any sp
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