ould
money do him, living such a life as he must now be compelled to pass? As
he thought of this the five-and-twenty napoleons on the table were taken
away from him almost without consciousness on his part.

At that moment there came a voice in his ear,--not the voice of his
attending friend, but one of which he accurately knew the lisping,
fiendish sound: "Ah, Captain Scarborough, I thought it vas posshible you
might be here. Dis ish a very nice place." Our friend looked round and
glared at the man, and felt that it was impossible that this occupation
should be continued under his eyes. "Yesh; it was likely. How do you
like Monte Carlo? You have plenty of money--plenty!" The man was small,
and oily, and black-haired, and beaky-nosed, with a perpetual smile on
his face, unless when on special occasions he would be moved to the
expression of deep anger. Of the modern Hebrews a most complete Hebrew;
but a man of purpose, who never did things by halves, who could count
upon good courage within, and who never allowed himself to be foiled by
misadventure. He was one who, beginning with nothing, was determined to
die a rich man, and was likely to achieve his purpose. Now there was no
gleam of anger on his face, but a look of invincible good-humor, which
was not, however, quite good-humor, when you came to examine it closely.

"Oh, that is you, is it, Mr. Hart?"

"Yesh; it is me. I have followed you. Oh, I have had quite a pleasant
tour following you. But ven I got my noshe once on to the schent then I
was sure it was Monte Carlo. And it ish Monte Carlo; eh, Captain
Scarborough?"

"Yes; of course it is Monte Carlo. That is to say, Monte Carlo is the
place where we are now. I don't know what you mean by running on in that
way." Then he drew back from the table, Mr. Hart following close behind
him, and his attendant at a farther distance behind him. As he went he
remembered that he had slightly increased the six hundred napoleons of
yesterday, and that the money was still in his own possession. Not all
the Jews in London could touch the money while he kept it in his pocket.

"Who ish dat man there?" asked Mr. Hart.

"What can that be to you?"

"He seems to follow you pretty close."

"Not so close as you do, by George; and perhaps he has something to get
by it, which you haven't."

"Come, come, come! If he have more to get than I he mush be pretty deep.
There is Mishter Tyrrwhit. No one have more to get than I, only Mis