-at least,
I thought this afterwards, not at the time. He looked genuinely
pleased, and down I sat once more, quite sure that two to one would
beat three.

The proprietor kept his eye on my play in a very thoughtful manner,
nor was it surprising that he knew his game as well as I; in fact, it
turned out that he knew it better. To this day I am unable to explain
how he manoeuvred it, how he adjusted his tactics to counteract mine;
but that something happened more than mere luck would account for was
certain, for, as often as the half-crown went on black, red was the
lucky colour. But I persevered on black because it had been my friend
at Epsom, and down went the half-crowns, to be swept up by the keeper
of the booth. I cannot even now explain how it was done.

Intending to make a good day's work and gather a rich harvest, I
took with me every shilling I had in the world--not only my previous
winnings, but my hard-earned savings at the Bar. I began to lose, but
went on playing, in the vain hope--the worst hope of the gambler--of
retrieving what I had lost and recovering my former luck. But it was
not to be; the table was against me. I forsook my loyalty to black and
laid on red. Alas! red was no better friend. I lost again, and knew
now that all my Epsom winnings had found their way once more into the
keeper's pocket. A fortnight's loan was all I had of them. It was a
pity they had not been given to some charity. But I kept on bravely
enough, and did not despair or leave off while I had a half-crown
left. That half-crown, however, was soon raked up with the rest into
the keeper's bag.

I was bankrupt, with nothing in my pocket but twopence and a return
ticket from Paddington.

Hopeless and helpless, I had learnt a lesson--a lesson you can only
learn in the school of experience.

I little thought then that the only certain winner at the gaming-table
is _the table itself_, and made up my mind as I walked alone and
disappointed through Windsor Park, on my way to the station, that I
would never touch a card again--and I never did.

For the first time since setting out in the morning I felt hungry, and
bought a pennyworth of apples at a little stall kept by an old woman,
and a bottle of ginger-beer. Such was my frugal meal; and thus
sustained I tramped on, my return ticket being my only possession in
the world. I reached Paddington with a sorry heart, and walked to the
Temple, my good resolution my only comfort; but it