ere
actually strewed beneath their feet, were sure to attract the notice of
the company,--a tribute, it must be owned, which invariably contains a
strong alloy of all that is ill-natured, sarcastic, and depreciating.
Zoe was a European celebrity, known and recognized by every one. The
only difficulty was to learn who the new "victim" was, whence he came,
and what means he possessed. There are few places where inventive genius
more predominates than at Baden, and Dalton was alternately a successful
speculator in railroads, a South American adventurer, a slaver, and a
Carlist agent,----characters for which honest Peter had about as many
requisites as he possessed for Hamlet or Cardinal Wolsey. He seemed to
have abundance of money, however, and played high,--two qualities of no
small request in this favored region. Dalton's gambling tastes were all
originally associated with the turf and its followers. A race in his
eyes was the legitimate subject of a bet; and if anything else could
rival it in interest, it was some piece of personal prowess or skill,
some manly game of strength or activity. To men of this stamp the
wager is merely a pledge to record the sentiments they entertain upon a
particular event. It is not, as gamesters understand it, the whole
sum and substance of the interest. Personal pride, the vainglory of'
success, is the triumph in one case; in the other there is no question
of anything save gain. To this difference may be traced the wide
disparity of feeling exhibited by both in moments of failing fortune.
To one loss comes with all the harassing sensations of defeat; wounded
self-esteem and baffled hope giving poignancy to the failure. To the
other it is a pure question of a moneyed forfeiture, unaccompanied with
a single thought that can hurt the pride of the player. Hence the
wild transports of passion in the one case, and the calm, cold
self-possession in the other.

We need scarcely say to which class Dalton belonged; indeed, so far
as the public play at Baden was concerned, it was the notoriety that
pleased him most. The invariable falling back to make way for him as he
came up; the murmur of his name as he passed on; the comments on what
he would probably do; and, not least of all, the buzz of admiring
astonishment that was sure to arise as he plumped down before him the
great canvas bag full of gold, which the banker's porter had just handed
him!

All the little courtesies of the croupiers, those