ont of
it. They brought a magnet to see if this curious piece of metal had
any power of attraction, but our hostess only laughed and assured
them at any rate there was no steel in the pointer, as (she added)
some of them ought to know by this time. When eight times I had put
the buckle down and eight times had found a fresh heap of coin at my
side, she turned to me and said--

"You play bravely, young man. What is your name?"

"Jasper Trenoweth."

Again I fancied I caught the gleam in her eyes; and this time it
even seemed as though her teeth shut tight as she heard the words.
But she simply laughed a tranquil laugh and said--

"A queer-sounding name, that Trenoweth. Is it a lucky one?"

"Never, until now," said I.

"Well, play on. It does my heart good, this fight between us.
But you are careful, I see; why don't you stake your pile as well
while this wonderful run lasts?"

Again Tom's hand was laid upon my shoulder, and this time his voice
was urgent. But I was completely deaf.

"As you please," said I, coldly, and laid the whole pile down upon
the black.

It was madness. It was worse than madness. But I won again; and now
the heap of my winnings was enormous. I glanced at the strange
woman; she sat as impassive as ever.

"Play," said she.

Thrice more I won, and now the pile beside her had to be replenished.
Yet she moved not a muscle of her face, not a lash of her mysterious
eyes.

At last, sick of success, I turned and said--

"I have had enough of this. Will it satisfy you if I stake it all
once more?"

Again she laughed. "You are brave, Mr. Trenoweth, and indeed worth
the fighting. You may win to-night, but I shall win in the end.
I told you that I would readily lose to you, and so I will; but you
take me at my word with a vengeance. Still, I should like to possess
that clasp of yours, so let it be once more."

I laid the whole of my winnings on the red. By this time all the
guests had gathered round to see the issue of this conflict. Not a
soul put any money on this turn of the wheel, so engrossed were they
in the duel. Every face was white with excitement, every lip
quivered. Only we, the combatants, sat unmoved--I and the strange
woman with the unfathomable eyes.

"Red stands for many things," said she, as she lightly twirled the
needle round, "blood and rubies and lovers' lips. But black is the
livery of Death, and Death shall win them all in the end."

As the pointe