The gentleman was altogether a disreputable-looking personage, and they who had seen him win his money,--Frenchmen and Italians for the most part,--had declared among themselves that his luck had been most miraculous. It was observed that he had a companion with him, who stuck close to his elbow, and it was asserted that this companion continually urged him to leave the room. But as long as the croupier remained at the table he remained, and continued to play through the day with almost invariable luck. It was surmised among the gamblers there that he had not entered the room with above twenty or thirty pieces in his pocket, and that he had taken away with him, when the place was closed, six hundred napoleons. "Look there; he has come again to give it all back to Madame Blanc, with interest," said a Frenchman to an Italian. "Yes; and he will end by blowing his brains out within a week. He is just the man to do it." "These Englishmen always rush at their fate like mad bulls," said the Frenchman. "They get less distraction for their money than any one." "Che va piano va sano," said the Italian, jingling the four napoleons in his pocket, which had been six on yesterday morning. Then they sauntered up to the Englishman, and both of them touched their hats to him. The Englishman just acknowledged the compliment, and walked off with his companion, who was still whispering something into his ear. "It is a gendarme who is with him, I think," said the Frenchman, "only the man does not walk erect."