Opposite to the palace, rises the rival establishment, the Roulette. There is, however, no hatred, no hostility between them; for the one supports the other, which in return protects the first. Admirable example! unique instance of two neighbouring and powerful families living in peace in one tiny state: an example well calculated to efface the remembrance of the Capulets and the Montagues. Here, the house of the sovereign; there, the house of play; the old and the new society fraternizing to the sound of gold. The saloons of the Casino are as readily opened to strangers, as those of the Prince are difficult of access. I turn to the first. A noise of money, continuous as that of the waves, a noise at once deep, light and terrible, fills the ears from the moment one enters, then fills the soul, stirs the heart, troubles the mind, and bewilders thought. Everywhere this sound, this singing, crying, calling, tempting, rending sound. Around the tables, a motley crowd of players, the scum of every continent and of every society; mixed with princes, or future kings, women of fashion, _bourgeois,_ money lenders, disreputable women; a mixture unique in the world, of men of all races, of all castes, of all kinds, of every origin; a perfect museum of adventurers from Russia, Brazil, Chili, Italy, Spain, Germany; of old women with reticules, of disreputable young ones carrying little bags containing keys, a handkerchief, and the three last five-franc pieces which are kept for the green cloth, when the vein of luck shall chance to return. I approached the first table, and saw ... a pale face, with lined forehead, and hard-set lip; features convulsed, with an expression of evil ... the young woman of Agay bay, the beautiful sweetheart of the sunny wood, and the moonlit bay. He, too, is there, seated before her, his hand resting on a few napoleons. "Play on the first square," said she. He inquired anxiously: "All?" "Yes, all." He placed the coins in a little heap. The croupier turned the wheel. The ball ran, danced, and stopped. "Nothing further counts," jerks forth the voice, which resumes after a moment: "Twenty-eight." The young woman started, and in a hard, sharp tone said: "Come away." He rose, and without looking at her, followed her; and one felt that some dreadful thing had sprung up between them. Some one remarked: "Good-bye to love. They don't look as if they were of one mind to-day." A hand taps me on the shoulder. I turn round. It is my friend. * * * * * I have only now to ask pardon for having thus trespassed on my reader by talking so much of myself. I had written this journal of day-dreams entirely for myself, or rather, I had taken advantage of my floating solitude, to capture the wandering ideas which are wont to traverse our minds, like birds on the wing.