he had visited the tables and not gambled!... And then he
knew that something within him more powerful than his common-sense
would force him to stake that five-franc piece. He glanced furtively at
the crowd to see whether anyone was observing him. No. Well, it having
been decided to bet, the next question was, how to bet? Now, Henry had
read a magazine article concerning the tables at Monte Carlo, and, being
of a mathematical turn, had clearly grasped the principles of the game.
He said to himself, with his characteristic caution: 'I'll wait till red
wins four times running, and then I'll stake on the black.'

('But surely,' remarked the logical superior person in him, 'you don't
mean to argue that a spin of the ball is affected by the spins that have
preceded it? You don't mean to argue that, because red wins four times,
or forty times, running, black is any the more likely to win at the next
spin?' 'You shut up!' retorted the human side of him crossly. 'I know
all about that.')

At last, after a considerable period of waiting, red won four times in
succession. Henry felt hot and excited. He pulled the great coin out of
his pocket, and dropped it in again, and then the croupier spun the ball
and exhorted the company several times to make their games, and
precisely as the croupier was saying sternly, _'Rien ne va plus_,'
Henry took the coin again, and with a tremendous effort of will, leaning
over an old man seated in front of him, pitched it into the meadow
devoted to black stakes. He blushed; his hair tingled at the root; he
was convinced that everybody round the table was looking at him with
sardonic amusement.

'_Quatre, noir, pair, et manque_,' cried the croupier.

Black had won.

Henry's heart was beating like a hammer. Even now he was afraid lest one
of the scoundrels who, according to the magazine article, infested the
rooms, might lean over his shoulder and snatch his lawful gains. He kept
an eye lifting. The croupier threw a five-franc piece to join his own,
and Henry, with elaborate calmness, picked both pieces up. His
temperature fell; he breathed more easily. 'It's nothing, after all,' he
thought. 'Of course, on that system I'm bound to win.'

Soon afterwards the old man in front of him grunted and left, and Henry
slipped into the vacant chair. In half an hour he had made twenty
francs; his demeanour had hardened; he felt as though he had frequented
Monte Carlo steadily for years; and what he did not