Dressed in robes of price, a young woman sits twirling the arrow of destiny at the treasure-laden table. Her exquisite form is audaciously and recklessly exposed by a daring costume. Her superb arms are bared to the shoulder, save where heavy-gemmed bracelets clasp glittering badges of sin around her slender wrists. An indescribable grace and charm is in every movement of her sinuous body. Her well-poised head is set upon a neck of ivory. The lustrous dark eyes rove around the circle of eager betters with languishing velvety glances. A smile, half a sneer, lingers on the curved lips. Her statuesque beauty of feature is enhanced by the rippling dark masses of hair crowning her lovely brows. In the silky waves of her coronal, shines one diamond star of surpassing richness. In all the pride and freshness of youth her loveliness is unmarred by the tawdry arts of cosmetic and make-up. Unabashed by the admiration she compels, she calmly pursues her exciting calling. The new-comer is well worthy the rank, by general acclaim, of "Queen of the El Dorado." In no way does she notice the eager crowd. She is an impartial priestess of fortune. Maxime waits only to hear her speak. She is silent, save the monosyllabic French words of the game. Is she Cuban, Creole, French, Andalusian, Italian, or a wandering gypsy star? A jewelled dagger-sheath in her corsage speaks of Spain or Italy. Maxime notes the unaccustomed eagerness with which Hardin recklessly plays. He seems determined to attract the especial attention of the divinity of the hour. Hardin's color is unusual. His features are sternly set. Near him stands "French Charlie," one of the deadliest gamesters of the plaza. Equally quick with card, knife, or trigger, the Creole gambler is a man to be avoided. He is as dangerous as the crouching panther in its fearful leap. Hardin, betting on black, seems to win steadily. "French Charlie" sets his store of ready gold on the red. It is a reckless duel of the two men through the medium of the golden arrow, twirled by the voluptuous stranger. A sudden idea strikes Valois. He notes the ominous sparkle of "French Charlie's" eye. It is cold as the depths of a mountain-pool. Is Hardin betting on the black to compliment the presiding dark beauty? Murmurs arise among the bystanders. The play grows higher. Valois moves away from the surging crowd, to wait his own opportunity. A glass of wine with a friend enables him to learn her history. She has been pursued by "French Charlie" since her arrival from Panama by steamer. No one knows if the reigning beauty is Havanese or a French Creole. Several aver she speaks French and Spanish with equal ease. English receives a dainty foreign accent from the rosebud lips. Her mysterious identity is guarded by the delighted proprietors. The riches of their deep-jawed safes tell of her wonderful luck, address, or skill.