first, he lived a sedate life; but it was impossible to re-establish
the old, peaceful, domestic existence with Angola which his evil angel
had destroyed. Very soon his inward restlessness and disquiet awoke
and drove him out, away from his house, in unsettled restlessness. His
ill-repute had followed him from Paris. He dared not establish a
banque, though he felt impelled to do so with the most irresistible
force.

"About this time a French Colonel, obliged, by serious wounds, to
retire from active service, was keeping the most important banque in
Genoa. The Chevalier went to this banque, with envy and deep hatred in
his heart, expecting his usual luck to stand by him soon, so that he
might be the ruin of this rival. The Colonel hailed the Chevalier with
a merry humour (not at other times characteristic of him), saying that
now, when the Chevalier de Menars had appeared in the field, the game
was worth winning at last, since there was something in the nature of a
real contest to give some interest to the issues.

"And, in fact, during the first few deals, the cards fell to the
Chevalier with just his old luck. But when, trusting to his invincible
fortune, he at last called out: 'Va, Banque!' he lost a very
considerable sum of money at one stroke.

"The Colonel was, ordinarily, completely cool and impassive, whether
lucky or unlucky; but, this time, he drew in his winnings with the
liveliest marks of the utmost delight.

"From that moment luck turned away from the Chevalier, utterly and
completely. He played every night, and lost every night, till he had
nothing left but two or three thousand ducats, in paper.

"He had been on foot all day, converting this paper into cash, and only
went home to his house late in the evening. When night was coming on,
he was going out with his last gold coins in his pocket, when Angela
came to him (suspecting the truth, no doubt), threw herself at his feet
with a stream of tears, imploring him, by the Virgin and all the
saints, to abandon his evil courses, and not leave her in need and
poverty.

"The Chevalier raised her, pressed her, with painful fervour, to his
heart, and said, in a hollow voice: 'Angela!--my sweet, beloved
Angela!--there is no help for it. I must do it. I cannot help it. But
to-morrow--to-morrow, all your cares will be over. For, by the Eternal
Destiny which is above us, I swear that I play this night for the very
last time. Do not distress yourself, my darlin