Prince's left, turned his card; it was an ace, but the ace of

hearts.

When Prince Florizel saw his fate upon the table in front of him,

his heart stood still. He was a brave man, but the sweat poured

off his face. There were exactly fifty chances out of a hundred

that he was doomed. He reversed the card; it was the ace of

spades. A loud roaring filled his brain, and the table swam before

his eyes. He heard the player on his right break into a fit of

laughter that sounded between mirth and disappointment; he saw the

company rapidly dispersing, but his mind was full of other

thoughts. He recognised how foolish, how criminal, had been his

conduct. In perfect health, in the prime of his years, the heir to

a throne, he had gambled away his future and that of a brave and

loyal country. "God," he cried, "God forgive me!" And with that,

the confusion of his senses passed away, and he regained his self-

possession in a moment.

To his surprise Geraldine had disappeared. There was no one in the

card-room but his destined butcher consulting with the President,

and the young man of the cream tarts, who slipped up to the Prince,

and whispered in his ear:-

"I would give a million, if I had it, for your luck."

His Highness could not help reflecting, as the young man departed,

that he would have sold his opportunity for a much more moderate

sum.

The whispered conference now came to an end. The holder of the ace

of clubs left the room with a look of intelligence, and the

President, approaching the unfortunate Prince, proffered him his

hand.

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