Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern — Volume 04
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Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern — Volume 04
Literature -- Collections
All crowded nearer; the table was surrounded five or six deep, for the
wonderful run of luck had got wind, and nearly the whole room were round
the table. Indeed, the archduke and Saxon lady, and of course the silent
suite, were left alone at the upper part of the room. The tall banker
did not conceal his agitation. Even the short, stout dealer ceased to be
a machine. All looked anxious except the baron. Vivian looked at the
table; his excellency watched, with a keen eye, the little dealer. No
one even breathed as the cards descended. "Ten--twenty--" here the
countenance of the banker brightened--"twenty-two--twenty-five--
twenty-eight--thirty-one'--Noir 31. The bank's broke; no
more play to-night. The roulette table opens immediately."
In spite of the great interest which had been excited, nearly the whole
crowd, without waiting to congratulate the baron, rushed to the opposite
side of the room in order to secure places at the roulette table.
"Put these five hundred and twelve Napoleons into a bag," said the
baron; "Grey, this is your share, and I congratulate you. With regard to
the other half, Mr. Hermann, what bills have you got?"
"Two on Gogel's house of Frankfort--accepted of course--for two hundred
and fifty each, and these twelve napoleons will make it right," said the
tall banker, as he opened a large black pocket-book, from which he took
out two small bits of paper. The baron examined them, and after having
seen them indorsed, put them calmly into his pocket, not forgetting the
twelve napoleons; and then taking Vivian's arm, and regretting extremely
that he should have the trouble of carrying such a weight, he wished Mr.
Hermann a very good-night and success at his roulette, and walked with
his companion quietly home. Thus passed a day at Ems!
THE FESTA IN THE "ALHAMBRA"
From 'The Young Duke'
You entered the Alhambra by a Saracenic cloister, from the ceiling of
which an occasional lamp threw a gleam upon some Eastern arms hung up
against the wall. This passage led to the armory, a room of moderate
dimensions, but hung with rich contents. Many an inlaid
breastplate--many a Mameluke scimitar and Damascus blade--many a gemmed
pistol and pearl embroided saddle might there be seen, though viewed in
a subdued and quiet light. All seemed hushed and still, and shrouded in
what had the reputation of being a palace of pleasure.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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