letter writers are willing tools. Not only at Monte Carlo,
but everywhere, in dearth of news, gambling stories come cheap and easy.
And the cheaper the story the bigger the play. "The Jedge raised him two
thousand dollars. The Colonel raised him back ten thousand more. Both of
'em stood pat. The Jedge bet him a hundred thousand. The Colonel called.
'What you got?' says he. 'Ace high,' says the Jedge; 'what you got?'
'Pair o' deuces,' says the Colonel."

Assuredly the "play" in the Casino is entirely fair. It could hardly be
otherwise with such crowds of players at the tables, often covering the
whole "layout." But there is no such thing as "honest gambling." The
"house" must have "the best of it." A famous American gambler, when
I had referred to one of his guild, lately deceased, as "an honest
gambler," said to me: "What do you mean by 'an honest gambler'?"

"A gambler who will not take unfair advantage!" I answered.

"Well," said he, "the gambler must have his advantage, because gambling
is his livelihood. He must fit himself for its profitable pursuit by
learning all the tricks of trade like other artists and artificers. With
him it is win or starve."

Among the variegate crowds that thronged the highways and byways of
Monte Carlo in those days there was no single figure more observed and
striking than that of Leopold the Second, King of the Belgians. He had
a bungalow overlooking the sea where he lived three months of the year
like a country gentleman. Although I have made it a rule to avoid courts
and courtiers, an event brought me into acquaintance with this best
abused man in Europe, enabling me to form my own estimate of his very
interesting personality.

He was not at all what his enemies represented him to be, a sot, a
gambler and a roue. In appearance a benignant burgomaster, tall and
stalwart; in manner and voice very gentle, he should be described as
first of all a man of business. His weakness was rather for money than
women. Speaking of the most famous of the Parisian dancers with whom his
name had been scandalously associated, he told me that he had never met
her but once in his life, and that after the newspaper gossips had been
busy for years with their alleged love affair. "I kissed her hand," he
related, "and bade her adieu, saying, 'Ah, ma'mselle, you and I have
indeed reason to congratulate ourselves.'"

It was the Congo business that lay at the bottom of the abuse of
Leopold. Henry Stanley