ou have brought me to this gaming-hell?"

He looked up at me out of his mournful eyes and murmured, "_Patienza,
lieber Herr_." Then spying a vacant place behind the chairs at the
baccarat table, he darted thither, and I followed in his wake. There
must have been about a couple of hundred louis in the bank, which was
held by a dissipated, middle-aged man who, having once been handsome in
a fleshy way, had run to fat. His black hair, cropped short, stood up
like a shoebrush, and when he leaned back in his chair a roll of flesh
rose above his collar. I disliked the fellow for his unhealthiness,
and for the hard mockery in his puffy eyes. The company seemed fairly
homogeneous in its raffishness, though here and there appeared a thin,
aristocratic face, with grey moustache and pointed beard, and the homely
anxious visage of a small tradesman. But in bulk it looked an ugly,
seedy crowd, with unwashed bodies and unclean souls. I noticed an
Italian or two, and a villainous Englishman with a face like that of a
dilapidated horse. A glance at the table plastered with silver and gold
showed me that they were playing with a five-franc minimum.

Anastasius drew a handful of louis from his pocket and staked one. I
staked a five-franc piece. The cards were dealt, the banker exposed a
nine, the highest number, and the croupier's flat spoon swept the table.
A murmur arose. The banker was having the luck of Satan.

"He always protects me, the good fellow," laughed the banker, who had
overheard the remark.

Again we staked, again the hands were dealt. Our tableau or end of the
table won, the other lost. The croupier threw the coins in payment. I
let my double stake lie, and so did Anastasius. At the next coup we lost
again. The banker stuffed his winnings into his pocket and declared a
_suite_. The bank was put up at auction, and was eventually knocked down
to the same personage for fifty louis. The horse-headed Englishman
cried "_banco_," which means that he would play the banker for the whole
amount. The hands were dealt, the Englishman lost, and the game started
afresh with a hundred louis in the bank. The proceedings began to bore
me. Even if my experience of life had not suggested that scrupulous
fairness and honour were not the guiding principles of such an
assemblage, I should have taken little interest in the game. I am a
great believer in the wholesomeness of compounding for sins you are
inclined to by damning those you have n