magic gossamer, to be replaced in a moment by new. That all the people
there, including himself, could be interested in what to the eye of
perfect reason was a somewhat monotonous thing--the property of numbers
to recur at certain longer or shorter intervals in a machine containing
them--in other words, the blind groping after fractions of a result
the whole of which was well known--was one testimony among many of the
powerlessness of logic when confronted with imagination.

At this juncture our lounger discerned at one of the tables about the
last person in the world he could have wished to encounter there. It was
Dare, whom he had supposed to be a thousand miles off, hanging about the
purlieus of Markton.

Dare was seated beside a table in an attitude of application which
seemed to imply that he had come early and engaged in this pursuit in
a systematic manner. Somerset had never witnessed Dare and De Stancy
together, neither had he heard of any engagement of Dare by the
travelling party as artist, courier, or otherwise; and yet it crossed
his mind that Dare might have had something to do with them, or at least
have seen them. This possibility was enough to overmaster Somerset's
reluctance to speak to the young man, and he did so as soon as an
opportunity occurred.

Dare's face was as rigid and dry as if it had been encrusted with
plaster, and he was like one turned into a computing machine which no
longer had the power of feeling. He recognized Somerset as indifferently
as if he had met him in the ward of Stancy Castle, and replying to his
remarks by a word or two, concentrated on the game anew.

'Are you here alone?' said Somerset presently.

'Quite alone.' There was a silence, till Dare added, 'But I have seen
some friends of yours.' He again became absorbed in the events of the
table. Somerset retreated a few steps, and pondered the question whether
Dare could know where they had gone. He disliked to be beholden to Dare
for information, but he would give a great deal to know. While pausing
he watched Dare's play. He staked only five-franc pieces, but it was
done with an assiduity worthy of larger coin. At every half-minute or
so he placed his money on a certain spot, and as regularly had the
mortification of seeing it swept away by the croupier's rake. After a
while he varied his procedure. He risked his money, which from the
look of his face seemed rather to have dwindled than increased, less
recklessly ag