But they only came for a second, Bob, and they left not a trace behind them. The monotonous rubric of the croupier rang ever through my brain,--"Faîtes votre jeu, Messieurs! "--"Messieurs, faîtes votre jeu!" The table, the lights, the glittering gold, the clank of the rake, were all before me, and I set off at full speed to the hotel, to fetch more money, and resume my play. I 'll not weary you with a detail, at every step of which I know that your condemnation tracks me. I re-entered the play-room, secretly and cautiously; I approached the table stealthily; I hoped to escape all observation,--at least, for a time; and with this object I betted small sums, and attracted no notice. My luck varied,--now inclining on this side, now to that. Fortune seemed as though in a half-capricious mood, and as it were undetermined how to treat me. "This comes of my own miserable timidity," thought I; "when I was bold and courageous, she favored me. It is the same in everything. To win, one must venture." There was a vacant place in front of me; a young Hungarian had just quitted it, having lost his last "Louis." I immediately took it. The card on which he had been marking the chances of the game still lay there. I took it up, and saw that he had been playing most rashly; that no luck could possibly have carried a man safely through such a system as he had followed. I must let you into a little secret of this game, Bob, and do not be incredulous of my theory, because my own case is a sorry illustration of it. Where all men fail at Rouge-et-Noir, is from temper. The loser makes tremendous efforts to repair his losses; the winner grows cautious with success, and diminishes his stake. Now the wise course is, play low when you see Fate against you, and back your luck to the very limit of the bank. You ask, perhaps, "How are you to ascertain either of these facts? What evidence have you that Fortune is with or against you?" As you are not a gambler, I cannot explain this to you. It is part of the masonry of the play-table, and every one who risks heavily on a chance knows well what are the instincts that guide him. I own to you, that though well aware of these facts, and thoroughly convinced that they form the only rules of play, I soon forgot them in the excitement of the game, and betted on, as caprice, or rather as passion, dictated. We Irish are bad stuff for gamblers. We have the bull-dog resistance of the Englishman,--his stern resolve not to be beaten,--but we have none of his caution or reserve. We are as impassioned as the men of the South, but we are destitute of that intense selfishness that never suffers an Italian to peril his all. In fact, as an old Belgian said to me one night, we make bad winners and worse losers,--too lavish in one case, too reckless in the other.