not my own luck; it is borrowed. Come, quick!"
They raced off, Bruce himself being more fired with the zest of the thing than he cared to admit. Within the Casino all the tables were now crowded, but Mensmore hurried to that at which he sat during his earlier visit.
"It was here that I played in my dream," he whispered, "soon after I came to it."
He edged through the onlookers, closely followed by Bruce. Neither cared for the scowls and injured looks cast at them by the people whom they forced out of the way.
The Italian, the winner of half an hour ago, had come back like a moth to the candle. Now he was getting his wings singed. At last, with a groan, he hastily rose, but as a final effort flung the maximum, six thousand francs, on the black.
The disc whirled and slowly slackened pace, the ball rested in one of the little squares, and the _croupier's_ monotonous words came: "_Vingt-trois_, _rouge_, _impair_, _et passe_!"
Out bounced the Italian, and Mensmore seized his chair, turning to Bruce with white face as he murmured: "You hear! Twenty-three!"
The barrister nodded, and placed his hands on Mensmore's shoulders as though to steady him. Mensmore staked his ten louis on the red. They became twenty, then forty. Another whirl and they were eighty. A fourth made them one hundred and sixty. Mensmore was now so agitated that the table and the players swam before his eyes. But Bruce, under the stress of exciting circumstances, had the gift of remaining preternaturally cool. At the fifth coup the sum to Mensmore's credit was £256. He would have left it all on the table had not Bruce withdrawn £16 in notes, as the maximum is £240. When Mensmore won the sixth and seventh coups a buzz of animated interest passed around the board. People began to note the run on the red, together with the fact that a man was staking the maximum each time. Even the _croupiers_ cast fleeting glances at the new-comer, when, several times in succession, the long rake pushed across the table the little pile of money and notes. Thenceforth Mensmore sat in a state of stupor more pronounced now that he was playing and awake than when he dreamt he was playing. Each time he mechanically staked the maximum and received back twice as much, while the eager onlookers now burst into cries of wonder that brought others running from all parts of the room. But Bruce did not lose count. When the red had turned up seventeen times, and the amount to Mensmore's credit was £3,128, he shook the latter violently as he was about to shove forward another maximum, and, of his own volition, placed the money on the black. "_Douze_, _noir_, _pair et manque_," sang out the _croupier_, and Bruce hissed into Mensmore's ear: "Get up at once."
His strangely made acquaintance obeyed, gathered up his gold and 

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