At the present day, though no public tables exist, there are ample facilities for play in Paris, and baccarat flourishes in many a Club to which admission is not difficult. The great evil of the gaming-houses of the Palais Royal was that they especially appealed to a class which could not afford to lose their hard-earned money—the poor being lured to ruin. Such a state of affairs is non-existent in modern Paris, where gambling, as far as possible, is limited to those able to afford to indulge in it.
A Frenchman cares little for Clubs without play, and many a Cercle draws its principal support from the cagnotte at baccarat; this amounts to about ten per cent on the sum put into the bank, which goes to the highest bidder up to five hundred louis, when, if there are two or three competitors, they draw lots for it. The percentage in question, however, varies as the bank increases, and is not levied after a certain amount of renewals.
In former years the management of some of these gambling-clubs was somewhat lax, and occasionally undesirable characters entered the rooms and passed themselves off as members. At a certain well-known resort, which formerly flourished not far from the Place de l'Opéra, high gambling was the order of the day just before dinner. One fine afternoon there was as usual somewhat spirited bidding for the bank, which was eventually secured for some four hundred louis by a very distinguished-looking man whose face was new to the usual frequenters of the place. The individual in question, taking the banker's seat, the cards having been shuffled and cut, produced no money but merely told the croupier opposite, "Il y a quatre cents louis en banque," upon which that official, with all the dignity of his race, tapped a piece of red cardboard and repeated, "Quatre cents louis à la carte."
The stakes were made and the cards dealt—neuf on the right, huit on the left—both sides won. "Caissier," cried the banker to the official who exchanged money for counters and vice versa at the desk, "donnez dix mille francs." The result of this was, however, unsatisfactory, for the caissier most politely explained that he had no authority to advance money to members, and certainly not to members whom he did not know. "Well," said the banker, "if that is the case I must go and get my pocket-book from my coat; it will be the matter of an instant." This optimistic forecast, however, was hardly justified by subsequent events, for the banker never returned, and eventually the expectant and anxious players became so enraged that the management of the Club thought it best to pay them their winnings. The banker, it afterwards transpired, had been a notorious sharper.
It was at a Club of the same sort, where the membership was rather mixed, that a certain English nobleman, finding that his pocket-book, containing several thousand francs, had been taken out of his coat hanging in the hall, did not hesitate to tell the committee that it must have been purloined either by the waiters or the members, and received the reply, "We can answer for the waiters!"
Not very far from Paris, at the Casino of Enghein, much baccarat is played, which has rendered the resort in question very popular, so much so indeed that the criminals known as "apaches" have begun to haunt the road from Paris. Not very long ago a band of these pests contrived to stop a motor, one of them lying down in the road in front of it, and the rest attempting to rob the occupants when the car was pulled up. The miscreants were on the point of wrenching a valuable pearl necklace from a lady's neck when another car arrived and put the assailants to flight.
About a couple of years ago roulette was played—practically without let or hindrance—at St. Germain. No wheel, however, was employed, its place being supplied by a dial on which by an ingenious device the winning number and colour appeared on a croupier firing a sort of rifle. The result was the same as at ordinary roulette, and just as in the old-fashioned form of the game most people lost their money. This resort, it should be added, was eventually closed by the authorities, who were aroused by the great increase of gaming in Paris owing to the introduction of baccarat with one tableau. This will be dealt with at the end of the next chapter.