"'Tell you what,' he said. 'I'll toss you once more—five hundred against five hundred. This'—he laid his hand on his remaining money —'is no use to me. I simply can't do with less than a thousand. Is it agreed?"
"I desired to refuse; I am not a gambler; I come of prudent people.
But again it came, that inspired impulse, that courageous folly."
"'It is agreed,' I replied."
"He meant to win, that time. He sat back to it, he concentrated himself. He cast a look at me, the glance of a brigand. I was imperturbable. Again the waiter hurried to see the venture. Rigobert frowned."
"'You call "face," eh?' he asked, balancing the coin."
"'I call when the coin is in the air,' I replied."
"He grunted, and spun it up. 'Pile!' I called this time. Down it came to his hand. Once more the eyes of the waiter and myself rushed to it; the result was capable of no adjustment. I felt my heart bump painfully. The broad coin lay on his hand, pile uppermost. I drew the rest of the money to me."
"'A thousand thanks,' I croaked from a throat constricted with surprise. Rigobert swore."
Cobb laughed. "Is that all that is troubling you?" he asked.
"All!" Savinien shrugged his immense shoulders desolately. "All! That was merely the commencement," he said. "And even that did not finish there."