“No,” interrupted Liane earnestly. “Dad will not. He has already promised me.”
The Captain, his hand trembling in his pocket, turned to his daughter with a smile.
“Surely you won’t deprive him of winning a few louis?” Zertho exclaimed. “Be generous, just this once, dearest.”
Smiling, she turned to her father with a glance of inquiry.
“I have promised,” he observed quietly. “I do not break my pledge to you, unless with your permission.”
Already the people, eager to tempt Fortune, were placing their money on the yellow lines upon the table, and while they spoke Zertho tossed a couple of louis upon the simple chance of the black. The game was made, black won, and he received back his stake with two louis in addition.
The sight of Zertho winning stirred Erle Brooker’s blood. He had watched the run of the table sufficiently to know from experience that the chances were again in favour of the red, and with quick resolve he threw upon the scarlet diamond two notes for one hundred francs apiece.
Liane made a sudden movement to stay his hand, but too late. Then, with lips compressed she looked at him with bitter reproach, but uttered no word. The little ivory ball had already been launched on it way.
“Rien ne va plus!” cried the croupier an instant later, and the ball next second clicked into its socket.
Red won. The croupier tossed over to him two notes of the same value as those he had staked, and he took them up with an amused smile at his companions.