troubles.

He had that-gift of visualization which makes life an endless procession
of pictures which allure, or which wear the nature into premature old
age. The last picture flashing before his eyes, as he sat there
alone, was of himself and his elder brother, Garnett, now master of
Castlegarry, racing ponies to reach the lodge-gates before they closed
for the night, after a day of disobedience and truancy. He remembered
how Garnett had given him the better pony of the two, so that the
younger brother, who would be more heavily punished if they were locked
out, should have the better chance. Garnett, if odd in manner and
character, had always been a true sportsman though not a lover of sport.

If--if--why had he never thought of Garnett? Garnett could help him, and
he would do so. He would let Garnett stand in with him--take one-third
of his profits from the syndicate. Yes, he must ask Garnett to see him
through. Then it was that he lifted his head from his hands, and his
mind awakened out of a dream as real as though he had actually been
asleep. Garnett--alas! Garnett was thousands of miles away, and he
had not heard from him for five years. Still, he knew the master of
Castlegarry was alive, for he had seen him mentioned in a chance number
of The Morning Post lately come to his hands. What avail! Garnett was at
Castlegarry, and at midnight his chance of fortune and a new life would
be gone. Then, penniless, he would have to face Mona again; and what
would come of that he could not see, would not try to see. There was an
alternative he would not attempt to face until after midnight, when this
crisis in his life would be over. Beyond midnight was a darkness which
he would not now try to pierce. As his eyes again became used to his
surroundings, a look of determination, the determination of the true
gambler, came into his face. The real gambler never throws up the sponge
till all is gone; never gives up till after the last toss of the last
penny of cash or credit; for he has seen such innumerable times the
thing come right and good fortune extend a friendly hand with the last
hazard of all.

Suddenly he remembered--saw--a scene in the gambling rooms at Monte
Carlo on the only visit he had ever paid to the place. He had played
constantly, and had won more or less each day. Then his fortune turned
and he lost and lost each day. At last, one evening, he walked up to a
table and said to the croupier, "When was zero up