d Madame Wachner. She added in
a serious tone, "and I should advise you to do so too, my dear young
friend."

CHAPTER IX

A quarter of an hour's sharp driving brought Sylvia and Madame Wachner to
the door of the Casino. They found Madame Wolsky in the hall waiting for
them.

"I couldn't think what had happened to you!" she exclaimed in an anxious
tone. "But here is your membership card, Sylvia. Now you are free of the
Baccarat tables!"

Monsieur Wachner met his wife with a frowning face. He might be pleased
to see Madame Wachner, but he showed his pleasure in an odd manner. Soon,
however, the secret of his angry look was revealed, for Madame Wachner
opened the leather bag hanging from her wrist and took out of it a
hundred francs.

"Here, Fritz," she cried, gaily. "You can now begin your play!"

Sylvia Bailey felt very much amused. So poor "Ami Fritz" was not allowed
to gamble unless his wife were there to see that he did not go too far.
No wonder he had looked impatient and eager, as well as cross! He had
been engaged--that was clear--in putting down the turns of the game, and
in working out what were no doubt abstruse calculations connected with
his system.

The Club was very full, and it was a little difficult at that hour of the
late afternoon to get near enough to a table to play comfortably; but a
stranger had kindly kept Anna Wolsky's place for her.

"I have been quite lucky," she whispered to Sylvia. "I have made three
hundred francs, and now I think I will rest a bit! Slip in here, dear,
and I will stand behind you. I do not advise you to risk more than twenty
francs the first time; on the other hand, if you feel _en veine_, if the
luck seems persistent--it sometimes is when one first plays with
gold--then be bold, and do not hesitate!"

Sylvia, feeling rather bewildered, slipped into her friend's place, and
Anna kept close behind her.

With a hand that trembled a little, she put a twenty-franc piece down on
the green table. After doing so she looked up, and saw that the Comte de
Virieu was standing nearly opposite to her, on the other side of the
table.

His eyes were fixed on her, and there was a very kind and indulgent, if
sad, smile on his face. As their glances met he leant forward and also
put a twenty-franc piece on the green cloth close to where Sylvia's money
lay.

The traditional words rang out: "_Faites vos jeux, Messieurs, Mesdames!
Le jeu est fait! Rien ne va plus!_"

And