the hours arrive for relieving guard; the game is never stopped
for more than a couple of minutes at a time, viz., when the cards
run out and have to be re-shuffled. This brief interruption is
commonly considered to portend a break in the particular vein
which the game may have happened to assume during the deal--say a
run upon black or red, an alternation of coups (in threes or
fours) upon either colour, two reds and a black, or _vice
versa_, all equally frequent eccentricities of the cards; and
the heavier players often change their seats, or leave the table
altogether for an hour or so at such a conjuncture. Curiously
enough, excepting at the very commencement of the day's play, the
_habitues_ of the Trente et Quarante tables appear to
entertain a strong antipathy to the first deal or two after the
cards have been "re-made." I have been told by one or two
masters of the craft that they have a fancy to see how matters
are likely to go before they strike in, as if it were possible to
deduce the future of the game from its past! That it is possible
appears to be an article of faith with the old stagers, and,
indeed, every now and then odd coincidences occur which tend to
confirm them in their creed. I witnessed an occurrence which was
either attributable (as I believe) to sheer chance, or (as its
hero earnestly assured me) to instinct. A fair and frail Magyar
was punting on numbers with immense pluck and uniform ill
fortune. Behind her stood a Viennese gentleman of my
acquaintance, who enjoys a certain renown amongst his friends for
the faculty of prophecy, which, however, he seldom exercises for
his own benefit. Observing that she hesitated about staking her
double florin, he advised her to set it on the number 3. Round
went the wheel, and in twenty seconds the ball tumbled into
compartment 3 sure enough. At the next turn she asked his