“I am going; to deal,” said the short, thick man behind. “Is the board cleared?”
“Your Excellency, then, allows the stake to remain?” inquired the tall, thin banker, with affected nonchalance.
“Oh! certainly,” said the Baron, with real nonchalance.
“Three, eight, fourteen, twenty-four, thirty-four. Rouge 34—”
All crowded nearer; the table was surrounded five or six deep, for the wonderful run of luck had got wind, and nearly the whole room were round the table. Indeed, the Grand Duke and Saxon lady, and of course the silent suite, were left alone at the upper part of the room. The tall banker did not conceal his agitation. Even the short, stout dealer ceased to be a machine. All looked anxious except the Baron. Vivian looked at the table; his Excellency watched, with a keen eye, the little dealer. No one even breathed as the cards descended. “Ten, twenty (here the countenance of the banker brightened), twenty-two, twenty-five, twenty-eight, thirty-one; noir 31. The bank’s broke: no more play tonight. The roulette table opens immediately.”
In spite of the great interest which had been excited, nearly the whole crowd, without waiting to congratulate the Baron, rushed to the opposite side of the room, in order to secure places at the roulette fable.
“Put these five hundred and twelve Napoleons into a bag,” said the Baron, “Grey, this is your share. With regard to the other half, Mr. Hermann, what bills have you got?”
“Two on Gogel of Frankfort for two hundred and fifty each, and these twelve Napoleons will make it right,” said the tall banker, as he opened a large black pocket-book, from which he took out two small bits of paper. The Baron examined them, and after having seen them endorsed, put them into his pocket, not forgetting the twelve Napoleons; and then taking Vivian’s arm, and regretting extremely that he should have the trouble of carrying such a weight, he wished Mr. Hermann a very good night and success at his roulette, and walked with his companion quietly home. Thus passed a day at Ems!