d,
had been seen by so many that all doubt as to his existence was quite
removed.

These were the stories which met O'Shea on his arrival, and which formed
the table-talk of the hotel he dined in; narratives, of course, graced
with all the illustrative powers of those who told them. One fact,
however, impressed itself strongly on his mind,--that with a man so
overwhelmed by the favors of Fortune, any chance of forming acquaintance
casually was out of the question. If he were cleaned out of his last
Napoleon, one could know him readily enough; but to the fellow who can
break the bank at will, archdukes and princes are the only intimates.
His first care was to learn his appearance. Nor had he long to wait; the
vacant chair beside the croupier marked the place reserved for the great
player, whose game alone occupied the attention of the bystanders, and
whose gains and losses were all marked and recorded by an expectant
public "Here he comes! That is he, leaning on the Prince of Tours, the
man with the large beard!" whispered a person in O'Shea's hearing; and
now a full, large man, over-weighty, as it seemed, for his years, pushed
the crowd carelessly aside, and seated himself at the table. The low
murmur that went round showed that the great event of the evening was
about to "come off," and that the terrible conflict of Luck against Luck
was now to be fought out.

More intent upon regarding the man himself than caring to observe his
game, O'Shea stationed himself in a position to watch his features, scan
their whole expression, and mark every varying change impressed
upon them. His experience of the world had made him a tolerable
physiognomist, and he read the man before him reasonably well. "He is
not a clever fellow," thought he, "he is only a resolute one; and, even
as such, not persistent. Still, he will be very hard to deal with; he
distrusts every man." Just as O'Shea was thus summing up to himself,
an exclamation from the crowd startled him. The stranger had lost an
immense "coup;" the accumulation of five successful passes had been
swept away at once, and several minutes were occupied in counting the
enormous pile of Napoleons he had pushed across the table.

The player sat apparently unmoved; his face, so far as beard and
moustache permitted it to be seen, was calm and impassive; but O'Shea
remarked a fidgety uneasiness in his hands, and a fevered impatience
in the way he continued to draw off and on a ring whi