he Witches' prophecy.

"He deserves to win, too," resumed the last speaker, "for I never saw a
man play more boldly."

"So much for boldness," cried the other; "he has just risked a fifth
time on the red and lost. See if it be not two hundred 'Naps.'"

The defeat did not dishearten him, for again Dalton covered the board
with gold. As if that moment had been the turning-point of his destiny,
his losses now began, and with all the rapidity of his previous gains.
At first he bore the reverse calmly and patiently; after a while a
slight gesture of impatience, a half-muttered exclamation would escape
him; but when loss followed loss unceasingly, and one immense stake
disappeared after another, Dalton's fingers trembled, and his cheeks
shook like one in ague. His straining bloodshot eyes were fixed on the
play with the intensity of passion, and a convulsive shudder would shake
his massive frame at each new tidings of loss. "Am I never to have luck
again? Is it only to lead me on that I won? Can this go on forever?"
were the low-muttered words which now he syllabled with difficulty, for
already his utterance was thick, and his swollen tongue and flattened
cheeks seemed threatened with paralysis.

His last stake was swept away before him, and Dalton, unable to speak,
stretched forth his arms across the table to arrest the banker's hand.
"A hundred 'Naps,' on the red," cried he, wildly; "no--two hundred--neck
or nothing, I 'll go five--d' ye hear me?--five hundred on the red!"

A short conversation in whispers ensued between the croupiers, after
which one of them spoke a few words to Dalton in a low voice.

"You never said so when I was losing," cried Peter, savagely. "I heard
nothing about the rules of the tables _then_."

"The stake is above our limit, sir; above the limit laid down by law,"
said the chief banker, mildly.

"I don't care for your laws. I lost my money, and I 'll have my
revenge."

"You can make half de stakes in my name, saar," said a long-moustached
and not over-clean-looking personage beside Dalton's chair.

"That will do----thank you," cried Dalton. "Bet two hundred and fifty
for me and I'll stake the rest."

A moment more, and the low voice of the croupier proclaimed that red had
lost!

"What does he say--why won't he speak plainly?" cried Dalton, in a voice
of passionate energy.

"You lose de stake," muttered the man behind him.

"Of course I do; what other luck could I have? Lose--lose--