it as the one at which she
would try her fortune. It was still early, and the tables had
not long been opened, yet there was already a crowd two or
three deep round them; and Madelon, hovering on the outside,
had to wait some time for an opening that would enable her to
approach near enough to lay down her money. It seemed so
natural to be standing there watching the play--the expectant
silence, the clink of the coin, the monotonous drone of the
croupier, were all so familiar, that for a minute she quite
forgot that she had any special object in view; and then, with
one of those starts of realization with which from time to
time she seemed to waken up out of some confused dream, she
remembered why she was there, and what she had to do. It was
only then, that on taking out her purse with its cherished
contents, so as to be ready when her turn should come, it
flashed across her mind that she had intended to ask Madame
Bertrand to change the two ten-franc pieces that formed her
capital, into pieces of five francs, which would have given
her two chances more. Well--it could not be helped now, and,
after all, had she not more than enough? "_Dix francs, et je
ferai fortune--dix francs, et je ferai fortune_--" The old words
seemed to set themselves to a tune in Madelon's head, chiming
in with the croupier's perpetual "_Rouge gagne et la couleur_,"
"_Rouge perd et la couleur_," whilst the two precious coins grew
warm in the little hand that was clasped so tightly over them.
She had half relapsed into her dreamy state, when a woman who
had been standing in front of her came pushing through the
crowd. Madelon instinctively stepped forward to take her
place, and roused up on finding that she was near enough to
the table to lay down her money. The croupier was counting out
the cards for the next stakes. Madelon waited till that turn
was over, and then, leaning across the back of the chair
before her, threw one of her little gold pieces on the table.

It was on the red she had staked. There was a pause as the
other players made their game; Madelon's languid pulses began
to flutter with a sudden interest, increasing to breathless
excitement as the croupier began to deal out the cards. "_Rouge
perd et la couleur_," and the poor little piece was swept away.
Madelon's heart sank with a sudden pang, and then it beat
faster, and her cheeks flushed, as, with a quick impulse,
without a moment's hesitation, she threw her remaining ten