That sight would have been sufficient of itself to have inspired Monteagle with a horror of gambling; but he was destined to see other sights than this. The working of the countenances which fell under his eye, the sudden flush of hope, the blood receding from the features and leaving them white as death—all these things the youth saw, and inly cursed the wretches whose bland smiles and tempting wines were leading on the hardworking laborer to deposit the last grain of gold dust in their greedy coffers. There were some poor gold-diggers, who longed for even a more sudden shower of wealth than the mines afforded them; men from the States who, while losing their gettings at faro as fast as they won them from the soil, were writing home to their wives, that gold was hard to get on account of the drought—more rain was required. Alas! if it had rained gold slugs, they would only have gathered the treasure to dissipate it all in games of chance.—But even of these all were not equally reckless. One unfortunate creature had, by long and arduous labor, secured about five thousand dollars worth of gold dust. He had written to his family in the State of Vermont, in high spirits, assuring them that he should be at home in a short time; should buy some land and stock it, and that their days of poverty were over. But coming to San Francisco in order to embark for home he had been beguiled into the belief that he could double his money at the Bella Union. He was playing when Monteagle entered, and although ignorant of his history, the youth’s attention was, at once, drawn to him by the emotion of his manner, and the intense anxiety which he betrayed as heap after heap of his treasure departed from him. Having lost part of his gold, he seemed desperately bent upon winning it back or losing the whole. He bent over the cards with blood-shot eyes, he scarcely breathed, except when some one spoke to him, and then with a short hysteric laugh and words half uttered, he replied as if not doubting of ultimate success, while his manner and tone gave the lie to his pretended confidence. But his last venture had been made, and with eyes fixed and glassy, he watched the process which ended by rendering him penniless and a beggar. He fell back, gasped for breath, and in the next moment, he lay upon the floor a corpse! Monteagle flew to the spot, but he stood there alone, as nobody seemed to think the event worthy of their attention. Finally, however, the body was removed. But who shall describe the patient watching and waiting of that poor wife, the anxious inquiries of the little children when their father’s promised coming was delayed week after week, and month after month—or the anguish of the bereaved family when at length they learned the truth, and instead of moving to a snug little farm, in the enjoyment of a comfortable independence, they were carted off to the Alms House friendless and despised?