Page:Vance--Terence O'Rourke.djvu/26

 toward the staircase as one who gropes his way in darkness—a ruined man.

"Messieurs, jaites vos jeux!" O'Rourke hardly heard the words; he was wondering at the bearded man, who was prompt in following the defeated gamester.

"Like to know what's your game," muttered O'Rourke. Simultaneously, without actually thinking what he was doing, he placed his five francs on the cloth. "When he looked he saw that they stood upon the nearest space, the 36. He puckered his lips together, thinking what a pitiful little pile they made.

"'Tis the fool I am!" he admitted, wishing that he might withdraw. But the ball merely mocked him, as the wheel slackened speed, with its "whrr-rup-tup-tup!"

"A fool—" he began again.

But it seemed that he had won!

"'Tis not true!" he cried exultantly, yet almost incredulous. But he accepted the one hundred and eighty francs without a murmur, cast them recklessly upon the black, and multiplied the sum by two, and by blind luck. Then, with his heart in his mouth—it was all or nothing with him now—he allowed his winnings to remain upon the black; which again came up, making seven hundred and twenty francs to his credit. "'Tis outrageous," he insisted gaily. "Will I be making it, now?"

Fifteen hundred francs was the mark he had set himself to attain; that much he needed to carry him to Panama; it was to be that or nothing at all. He divided his winnings, reserving half, scattering the remainder about the numbers, hope high in his heart.