Nelly drew near him as they were leaving the room, and, passing her arm fondly about him, whispered a few words in his ear.
“And why not this evening?” said he, aloud, and in a rude voice. “Is it Friday, that it ought to bring bad luck? Why should n't I go this evening? I can't hear you; speak louder. Ha! ha! ha! Listen to that, Miss Martha. There's the sensible Nelly for you! She says she had a dhrame about me last night.”
“No, dearest papa; but that it was like a dream to me. All the narrative seemed so natural,—all the events followed so regularly, and yet I was awake just as I am now.”
“More shame for you, then. We can't help ourselves what nonsense we think in our sleep.”
“But you'll not go, dearest papa. You'll indulge me for this once, and I 'll promise never to tease you by such follies again.”
“Faix! I'll go, sure enough; and, what's more, I'll win five thousand pounds this night, as sure as my name's Peter. I saw a black cat shaving himself before a new tin saucepan; and if that isn't luck, I'd like to know what is. A black cat won the Curragh Stakes for Tom Molly; and it was an egg saucepan made Dr. Groves gain the twenty thousand pounds in the lottery. And so, now, may I never leave this room if I'd take two thousand pounds down for my chances to-night!”
And in all the force of this confidence in fortune, Dalton sallied forth to the Cursaal. The rooms were more than usually crowded, and it was with difficulty that, with Mrs. Ricketts on one arm and Martha on the other, he could force his way to the tables. Once there, however, a courteous reception awaited him, and the urbane croupier moved his own august chair to make room for the honored guest. Although the company was very numerous, the play was as yet but trifling; a stray gold piece here or there glittered on the board, and in the careless languor of the bankers, and the unexcited looks of the bystanders, might be read the fact that none of the well-known frequenters of the place were betting. Dalton's appearance immediately created a sensation of curiosity. Several of those present had witnessed his losses on the preceding night, and were eager to see what course he would now pursue. It was remarked that he was not accompanied, as heretofore, by that formidable money-bag which, with ostentatious noise, he used to fling down on the table before him. Nor did he now produce that worn old leather pocket-book, whose bursting clasp could scarce contain the roll of bank-notes within it. He sat with his hands crossed before him, staring at the table, but to all seeming not noticing the game. At length, suddenly rousing himself, he leant over and said a few words, in a whisper, to the croupier, who, in an equally low tone, communicated with his colleague across the table. A nod and a smile gave the quiet reply; and Dalton, taking a piece of paper, scrawled a few figures on it with a pencil, and with a motion so rapid as to be unseen by many of the bystanders, the banker pushed several “rouleaux” of gold before Dalton, and went on with the game.
Dalton broke one of the envelopes, and as the glittering pieces fell out, he moved his fingers through them, as though their very touch was pleasure. At last, with a kind of nervous impatience, he gathered up a handful, and without counting, threw them on the table.