begin with. So here goes!"

Up to this time their conversation has been carried on in a low tone; no
one hearing or caring to listen to it--all being too much absorbed in
their own calculations to take heed of the bets or combinations of
others. If any one gives a glance at them, and sees them engaged in
their _sotto-voce_ dialogue, it is but to suppose they are discussing
which card they had best bet upon--whether the _Sota_ or _Caballo_; and
whether it would be prudent to risk a whole dollar, or limit their lay
to the more modest sum of fifty cents.

They who may have been thus conjecturing, with everybody else, are taken
by surprise, in fact, somewhat startled, when the older of the two
officers, bending across the table, tosses a hundred pound Bank of
England note upon the baize, with as much nonchalance as if it were but
a five-dollar bill!

"Shall I give you cheques for it?" asks the croupier, after examining
the crisp note--current over all the earth--and knowing it good as gold.

"No," answers Crozier; "not yet. You can give that after the bet's
decided--if I win it. If not, you can take the note. I place it on the
Queen, against the Knave."

The croupier, simply nodding assent, places the note as directed.

During the interregnum in which this little episode occurs, the English
officers, hitherto scarce noticed, are broadly stared at, and closely
scrutinised--Crozier becoming the cynosure of every eye. He stands it
with a placid tranquillity, which shows him as careless about what they
may think him, as he is of his cash.

Meanwhile, the cards have had a fresh shuffle, and the deal begins anew;
all eyes again turning upon the game. In earnest expectancy; those who,
like Crozier, have placed upon the Queen, wishing her to show her face
first. And she does.

"_Caballo en la puerta mozo_!" (The Queen in the door wins) cries the
dealer, the words drawled out with evident reluctance, while a flash of
fierce anger is seen scintillating in his eyes.

"Will you take it in cheques?" asks the croupier addressing himself to
Crozier, after settling the smaller bets. "Or shall I pay you in
specie?"

"You needn't pay yet. Let the note lie. Only cover it with a like
amount. I go it double, and again upon the Queen."

Stakes are re-laid--some changed--others left standing or doubled, as
Crozier's, which is now a bet for two hundred pounds.

On goes the game, the piece of smooth pasteboard slipping si