"Oh, yes, at Monte Carlo," Karl said with dawning recollection.

"It was an eventful day," the stranger said.

"Yes, yes, of course, I remember; it was last fall, when I had lost all my money playing roulette. Some one stood behind me, and it was you. I was afraid when I turned and saw you, because I fancied I had seen you a moment before, beside the croupier, grinning at me as my gold pieces were swept away. But when I had lost everything you offered me a handful of gold."

"Which you refused, but I saw the longing to accept in your eyes."

"I did not know you."

"But I offered it again and you accepted."

"Yes, and in ten minutes I had recouped my losses and won $20,000 besides," Karl cried with growing enthusiasm. "I remember indeed. Your money seemed to possess mystic luck. When you put it in my hands it glowed, and I thought it was hot. It seemed to burn me."

"You were excited, my boy," said the other genially. "But you repaid me and invited me to dine. I could not accept, because I was forced to leave for Spain that same evening. I promised, however, to call on you when you needed me—and here I am."

He bowed to Karl and Olga, who stood in speechless astonishment at this strange dialogue. She could understand nothing of this uncanny stranger; this specter in black and white, who seemed to emit a lurid radiance as if his red waistcoat were alive.

"It was kind of you to come," Karl said. "I am glad."