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upon all his actions the seal of inconsequence and of the weakness of
his nature。 We have nothing here below in full measure but misfortune。
There were several gamblers in the room already when the young man
entered。 Three bald…headed seniors were lounging round the green
table。 Imperturbable as diplomatists； those plaster…cast faces of
theirs betokened blunted sensibilities； and hearts which had long
forgotten how to throb； even when a woman's dowry was the stake。 A
young Italian； olive…hued and dark…haired； sat at one end； with his
elbows on the table； seeming to listen to the presentiments of luck
that dictate a gambler's 〃Yes〃 or 〃No。〃 The glow of fire and gold was
on that southern face。 Some seven or eight onlookers stood by way of
an audience； awaiting a drama composed of the strokes of chance； the
faces of the actors； the circulation of coin； and the motion of the
croupier's rake； much as a silent； motionless crowd watches the
headsman in the Place de Greve。 A tall； thin man； in a threadbare
coat； held a card in one hand； and a pin in the other； to mark the
numbers of Red or Black。 He seemed a modern Tantalus； with all the
pleasures of his epoch at his lips； a hoardless miser drawing in
imaginary gains； a sane species of lunatic who consoles himself in his
misery by chimerical dreams； a man who touches peril and vice as a
young priest handles the unconsecrated wafer in the white mass。
One or two experts at the game； shrewd speculators； had placed
themselves opposite the bank； like old convicts who have lost all fear
of the hulks； they meant to try two or three coups； and then to depart
at once with the expected gains； on which they lived。 Two elderly
waiters dawdled about with their arms folded； looking from time to
time into the garden from the windows； as if to show their
insignificant faces as a sign to passers…by。
The croupier and banker threw a ghastly and withering glance at the
punters； and cried； in a sharp voice； 〃Make your game！〃 as the young
man came in。 The silence seemed to grow deeper as all heads turned
curiously towards the new arrival。 Who would have thought it？ The
jaded elders； the fossilized waiters； the onlookers； the fanatical
Italian himself； felt an indefinable dread at sight of the stranger。
Is he not wretched indeed who can excite pity here？ Must he not be
very helpless to receive sympathy； ghastly in appearance to raise a
shudder in these places； where pain utters no cry； where wretchedness
looks gay； and despair is decorous？ Such thoughts as these produced a
new emotion in these torpid hearts as the young man entered。 Were not
executioners known to shed tears over the fair…haired； girlish heads
that had to fall at the bidding of the Revolution？
The gamblers saw at a glance a dreadful mystery in the novice's face。
His young features were stamped with a melancholy grace； his looks
told of unsuccess and many blighted hopes。 The dull apathy of the
suicide had made his forehead so deadly pale； a bitter smile carved
faint lines about the corners of his mouth； and there was an
abandonment about him that was painful to see。 Some sort of demon
sparkled in the depths of his eye； which drooped； wearied perhaps with
pleasure。 Could it have been dissipation that had set its foul mark on
the proud face； once pure and bright； and now brought low？ Any doctor
seeing the yellow circles about his eyelids； and the color in his
cheeks； would have set them down to some affection of the heart or
lungs； while poets would have attributed them to the havoc brought by
the search for knowledge and to night…vigils by the student's lamp。
But a complaint more fatal than any disease； a disease more merciless
than genius or study； had drawn this young face； and had wrung a heart
which dissipation； study； and sickness had scarcely disturbed。 When a
notorious criminal is taken to the convict's prison； the prisoners
welcome him respectfully； and these evil spirits in human shape；
experienced in torments； bowed before an unheard…of anguish。 By the
depth of the wound which met their eyes； they recognized a prince
among them； by the majesty of his unspoken irony； by the refined
wretchedness of his garb。 The frock…coat that he wore was well cut；
but his cravat was on terms so intimate with his waistcoat that no one
could suspect him of underlinen。 His hands； shapely as a woman's were
not perfectly clean； for two days past indeed he had ceased to wear
gloves。 If the very croupier and the waiters shuddered； it was because
some traces of the spell of innocence yet hung about his meagre；
delicately…shaped form； and his scanty fair hair in its natural curls。
He looked only about twenty…five years of age； and any trace of vice
in his face seemed to be there by accident。 A young constitution still
resisted the inroads of lubricity。 Darkness and light； annihilation
and existence； seemed to struggle in him； with effects of mingled
beauty and terror。 There he stood like some erring angel that has lost
his radiance； and these emeritus…professors of vice and shame were
ready to bid the novice depart； even as some toothless crone might be
seized with pity for a beautiful girl who offers herself up to infamy。
The young man went straight up to the table； and； as he stood there；
flung down a piece of gold which he held in his hand； without
deliberation。 It rolled on to the Black； then； as strong natures can；
he looked calmly； if anxiously； at the croupier； as if he held useless
subterfuges in scorn。
The interest this coup awakened was so great that the old gamesters
laid nothing upon it； only the Italian； inspired by a gambler's
enthusiasm； smiled suddenly at some thought； and punted his heap of
coin against the stranger's stake。
The banker forgot to pronounce the phrases that use and wont have
reduced to an inarticulate cry〃Make your game。 。 。 。 The game is
made。 。 。 。 Bets are closed。〃 The croupier spread out the cards； and
seemed to wish luck to the newcomer； indifferent as he was to the
losses or gains of those who took part in these sombre pleasures。
Every bystander thought he saw a drama； the closing scene of a noble
life； in the fortunes of that bit of gold； and eagerly fixed his eyes
on the prophetic cards； but however closely they watched the young
man； they could discover not the least sign of feeling on his cool but
restless face。
〃Even！ red wins；〃 said the croupier officially。 A dumb sort of rattle
came from the Italian's throat when he saw the folded notes that the
banker showered upon him； one after another。 The young man only
understood his calamity when the croupiers's rake was extended to
sweep away his last napoleon。 The ivory touched the coin with a little
click； as it swept it with the speed of an arrow into the heap of gold
before the bank。 The stranger turned pale at the lips； and softly shut
his eyes； but he unclosed them again at once； and the red color
returned as he affected the