When the deal came to him again, fortune favored him even more
than before. He started with a hundred francs, and doubling them
each time in six successive deals, he won more than three thousand
francs.
"The devil! Monsieur is in luck."--"Zounds! And he is playing for
the first time."--"That accounts for it. The inexperienced always
win."
Pascal could not fail to hear these comments. The blood mantled
over his cheeks, and, conscious that he was flushing, he, as
usually happens, flushed still more. His good fortune embarrassed
him, as was evident, and he played most recklessly. Still his
good luck did not desert him; and do what he would he won--won
continually. In fact, by four o'clock in the morning he had
thirty-five thousand francs before him.
For some time he had been the object of close attention. "Do you
know this gentleman?" inquired one of the guests.
"No. He came with Coralth."
"He is an advocate, I understand."
And all these whispered doubts and suspicions, these questions
fraught with an evil significance, these uncharitable replies,
grew into a malevolent murmur, which resounded in Pascal's ears
and bewildered him. He was really becoming most uncomfortable,
when Madame d'Argeles approached the card-table and exclaimed:
"This is the third time, gentlemen, that you have been told that
supper is ready. What gentleman will offer me his arm?"
There was an evident unwillingness to leave the table, but an old
gentleman who had been losing heavily rose to his feet.
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