Then a little ivory ball was thrown into a cylinder, where it rolled with a metallic noise. Although he had never seen roulette, it required no effort to divine that this was the game.
And, before putting several louis on the table, he looked about him to see how it was played. But after the tenth time he understood as little as at first. With the rakes the croupiers collected the stakes of certain players; with these same rakes they doubled, separated, or even paid, in proportions of which he took no account, certain others, and that was all.
But it mattered little. Having seen how the money was placed on the table, that was sufficient.
He had five louis in his hand when the croupier said:
"Messieurs, faites votre jeu."
He placed them on the number thirty-two, or, at least, he believed that he placed them on this number.
"Rien ne va plus!" The ball rolled in the cylinder.
"Thirty-one!" cried the croupier, adding some other words that Saniel did not understand. So little did he understand roulette that he thought he had lost. He had placed his stake on the thirty-two, and it was the thirty-one that had appeared; the bank had won. He was surprised to see the croupier push a heap of gold toward him, which amounted to nearly a hundred louis, and accompany this movement with a glance which, without any doubt, meant to say:
"For you, sir."
What should he do? Since he had lost, he could not take this, money that was given to him by mistake.