red--an occurrence never before known at roulette-- so that men
   spoke of it with astonishment. Naturally enough, many deserted
   the red after a dozen rounds, and practically no one could now
   be found to stake upon it. Yet upon the black also--the
   antithesis of the red--no experienced gambler would stake
   anything, for the reason that every practised player knows the
   meaning of "capricious fortune." That is to say, after the
   sixteenth (or so) success of the red, one would think that the
   seventeenth coup would inevitably fall upon the black; wherefore,
   novices would be apt to back the latter in the seventeenth
   round, and even to double or treble their stakes upon it--only,
   in the end, to lose.
   Yet some whim or other led me, on remarking that the red had
   come up consecutively for seven times, to attach myself to that
   colour. Probably this was mostly due to self-conceit, for I
   wanted to astonish the bystanders with the riskiness of my play.
   Also, I remember that--oh, strange sensation!--I suddenly, and
   without any challenge from my own presumption, became obsessed
   with a DESIRE to take risks. If the spirit has passed through a
   great many sensations, possibly it can no longer be sated with
   them, but grows more excited, and demands more sensations, and
   stronger and stronger ones, until at length it falls exhausted.
   Certainly, if the rules of the game had permitted even of my
   staking fifty thousand florins at a time, I should have staked
   them. All of a sudden I heard exclamations arising that the
   whole thing was a marvel, since the red was turning up for the
   fourteenth time!
   "Monsieur a gagne cent mille florins," a voice exclaimed beside
   me.
   I awoke to my senses. What? I had won a hundred thousand
   florins? If so, what more did I need to win? I grasped the
   banknotes, stuffed them into my pockets, raked in the gold 
   without counting it, and started to leave the Casino. As I 
   passed through the salons people smiled to see my
   bulging pockets and unsteady gait, for the weight which I was
   carrying must have amounted to half a pood! Several hands I saw
   stretched out in my direction, and as I passed I filled them
   with all the money that I could grasp in my own. At length two
   Jews stopped me near the exit.
   "You are a bold young fellow," one said, "but mind you depart
   early tomorrow--as early as you can--for if you do not you will
   lose everything that you have won."
   But I did not heed them. The Avenue was so dark that it was
   barely possible to distinguish one's hand before one's face,
   while the distance to the hotel was half a verst or so; but I
   feared neither pickpockets nor highwaymen. Indeed, never since
   my boyhood have I done that. Also, I cannot remember what I
   thought about on the way. I only felt a sort of fearful pleasure
   --the pleasure of success, of conquest, of power (how can I best
   express it?). Likewise, before me there flitted the image of
   Polina; and I kept remembering, and reminding myself, that it
   was to HER I was going, that it was in HER presence I should
   soon be standing, that it was SHE to whom I should soon be able
   to relate and show everything. Scarcely once did I recall what
   she had lately said to me, or the reason why I had left her, or
   all those varied sensations which I had been experiencing a bare
   hour and a half ago. No, those sensations seemed to be things of
   the past, to be things which had righted themselves and grown
   old, to be things concerning which we needed to trouble
   ourselves no longer, since, for us, life was about to begin
   anew. Yet I had just reached the end of the Avenue when there
   DID come upon me a fear of being robbed or murdered. With each
   step the fear increased until, in my terror, I almost started to
   run. Suddenly, as I issued from the Avenue, there burst upon me
   the lights of the hotel, sparkling with a myriad lamps! Yes,
   thanks be to God, I had reached home!
   Running up to my room, I flung open the door of it.  Polina was
   still on the sofa, with a lighted candle in front of her, and
   her hands clasped. As I entered she stared at me in astonishment
   (for, at the moment, I must have presented a strange spectacle).
   All I did, however, was to halt before her, and fling upon the
   table my burden of wealth.
   XV
   I remember, too, how, without moving from her place, or changing
   her attitude, she gazed into my face.
   "I have won two hundred thousand francs!" cried I as I pulled
   out my last sheaf of bank-notes. The pile of paper currency
   occupied the whole table. I could not withdraw my eyes from it.
   Consequently, for a moment or two Polina escaped my mind. Then I
   set myself to arrange the pile in order, and to sort the notes,
   and to mass the gold in a separate heap. That done, I left
   everything where it lay, and proceeded to pace the room with
   rapid strides as I lost myself in thought. Then I darted to the
   table once more, and began to recount the money; until all of a
   sudden, as though I had remembered something, I rushed to the
   door, and closed and double-locked it. Finally I came to a
   meditative halt before my little trunk.
   "Shall I put the money there until tomorrow?" I asked,
   turning sharply round to Polina as the recollection of her
   returned to me.
   She was still in her old place--still making not a sound. Yet her
   eyes had followed every one of my movements. Somehow in her face
   there was a strange expression--an expression which I did not
   like. I think that I shall not be wrong if I say that it
   indicated sheer hatred.
   Impulsively I approached her.
   "Polina," I said, "here are twenty-five thousand florins--fifty
   thousand francs, or more. Take them, and tomorrow throw them
   in De Griers' face."
   She returned no answer.
   "Or, if you should prefer," I continued, "let me take
   them to him myself tomorrow--yes, early tomorrow morning. Shall
   I?"
   Then all at once she burst out laughing, and laughed for a long
   while. With astonishment and a feeling of offence I gazed at
   her. Her laughter was too like the derisive merriment which she
   had so often indulged in of late--merriment which had broken
   forth always at the time of my most passionate explanations. At
   length she ceased, and frowned at me from under her eyebrows.
   "I am NOT going to take your money," she said contemptuously.
   "Why not?" I cried. "Why not, Polina?"
   "Because I am not in the habit of receiving money for nothing."
   "But I am offering it to you as a FRIEND in the same way I
   would offer you my very life."
   Upon this she threw me a long, questioning glance, as though she
   were seeking to probe me to the depths.
   "You are giving too much for me," she remarked with a smile. 
   "The beloved of De Griers is not worth fifty thousand francs."
   "Oh Polina, how can you speak so?" I exclaimed reproachfully.
   "Am I De Griers?"
   "You?" she crie 
					     					 			d with her eyes suddenly flashing. "Why, I
   HATE you! Yes, yes, I HATE you! I love you no more than I do De
   Griers."
   Then she buried her face in her hands, and relapsed into
   hysterics. I darted to her side. Somehow I had an intuition of
   something having happened to her which had nothing to do with
   myself. She was like a person temporarily insane.
   "Buy me, would you, would you? Would you buy me for fifty
   thousand francs as De Griers did?" she gasped between her
   convulsive sobs.
   I clasped her in my arms, kissed her hands and feet, and fell
   upon my knees before her.
   Presently the hysterical fit passed away, and, laying her hands
   upon my shoulders, she gazed for a while into my face, as though
   trying to read it--something I said to her, but it was clear
   that she did not hear it. Her face looked so dark and despondent
   that I began to fear for her reason. At length she drew me towards 
   herself--a trustful smile playing over her features; and then, 
   as suddenly, she pushed me away again as she eyed me dimly.
   Finally she threw herself upon me in an embrace.
   "You love me?" she said. "DO you?--you who were willing even to
   quarrel with the Baron at my bidding?"
   Then she laughed--laughed as though something dear, but
   laughable, had recurred to her memory. Yes, she laughed and wept
   at the same time. What was I to do? I was like a man in a fever.
   I remember that she began to say something to me--though WHAT I do
   not know, since she spoke with a feverish lisp, as though she
   were trying to tell me something very quickly. At intervals,
   too, she would break off into the smile which I was beginning to
   dread. "No, no!" she kept repeating. "YOU are my dear one;
   YOU are the man I trust." Again she laid her hands upon my
   shoulders, and again she gazed at me as she reiterated: "You love
   me, you love me? Will you ALWAYS love me?" I could not take my
   eyes off her. Never before had I seen her in this mood of
   humility and affection. True, the mood was the outcome of
   hysteria; but--! All of a sudden she noticed my ardent gaze, and
   smiled slightly. The next moment, for no apparent reason, she
   began to talk of Astley.
   She continued talking and talking about him, but I could not
   make out all she said--more particularly when she was
   endeavouring to tell me of something or other which had happened
   recently. On the whole, she appeared to be laughing at Astley,
   for she kept repeating that he was waiting for her, and did I
   know whether, even at that moment, he was not standing beneath
   the window? "Yes, yes, he is there," she said. "Open the
   window, and see if he is not." She pushed me in that direction;
   yet, no sooner did I make a movement to obey her behest than she
   burst into laughter, and I remained beside her, and she
   embraced me.
   "Shall we go away tomorrow?" presently she asked, as though
   some disturbing thought had recurred to her recollection. "How
   would it be if we were to try and overtake Grandmamma? I think
   we should do so at Berlin. And what think you she would have to
   say to us when we caught her up, and her eyes first lit upon us?
   What, too, about Mr. Astley? HE would not leap from the
   Shlangenberg for my sake! No! Of that I am very sure!"--and she
   laughed. "Do you know where he is going next year? He says he
   intends to go to the North Pole for scientific investigations,
   and has invited me to go with him! Ha, ha, ha! He also says that
   we Russians know nothing, can do nothing, without European help.
   But he is a good fellow all the same. For instance, he does not
   blame the General in the matter, but declares that Mlle.
   Blanche--that love--But no; I do not know, I do not know." She
   stopped suddenly, as though she had said her say, and was
   feeling bewildered. "What poor creatures these people are. How
   sorry I am for them, and for Grandmamma! But when are you going
   to kill De Griers? Surely you do not intend actually to murder
   him? You fool! Do you suppose that I should ALLOW you to fight
   De Griers? Nor shall you kill the Baron." Here she burst out
   laughing. "How absurd you looked when you were talking to the
   Burmergelms! I was watching you all the time--watching you from
   where I was sitting. And how unwilling you were to go when I
   sent you! Oh, how I laughed and laughed!"
   Then she kissed and embraced me again; again she pressed her
   face to mine with tender passion. Yet I neither saw nor heard
   her, for my head was in a whirl. . . .
   It must have been about seven o'clock in the morning when I
   awoke. Daylight had come, and Polina was sitting by my side--a
   strange expression on her face, as though she had seen a vision
   and was unable to collect her thoughts. She too had just
   awoken, and was now staring at the money on the table. My head
   ached; it felt heavy. I attempted to take Polina's hand, but she
   pushed me from her, and leapt from the sofa. The dawn was full
   of mist, for rain had fallen, yet she moved to the window,
   opened it, and, leaning her elbows upon the window-sill, thrust
   out her head and shoulders to take the air. In this position did
   she remain for several minutes, without ever looking round at
   me, or listening to what I was saying. Into my head there came
   the uneasy thought: What is to happen now? How is it all to end?
   Suddenly Polina rose from the window, approached the table, and,
   looking at me with an expression of infinite aversion, said with
   lips which quivered with anger:
   "Well? Are you going to hand me over my fifty thousand francs?"
   "Polina, you say that AGAIN, AGAIN?" I exclaimed.
   "You have changed your mind, then? Ha, ha, ha! You are sorry
   you ever promised them?"
   On the table where, the previous night, I had counted the money
   there still was lying the packet of twenty five thousand
   florins. I handed it to her.
   "The francs are mine, then, are they? They are mine?" she
   inquired viciously as she balanced the money in her hands.
   "Yes; they have ALWAYS been yours," I said.
   "Then TAKE your fifty thousand francs!" and she hurled them
   full in my face. The packet burst as she did so, and the floor
   became strewed with bank-notes. The instant that the deed was
   done she rushed from the room.
   At that moment she cannot have been in her right mind; yet, what
   was the cause of her temporary aberration I cannot say. For a
   month past she had been unwell. Yet what had brought about this
   PRESENT condition of mind,above all things, this outburst? Had
   it come of wounded pride? Had it come of despair over her
   decision to come to me? Had it come of the fact that, presuming
   too much on my good fortune, I had seemed to be intending to
   desert her (even as De Griers had done) when once I had given
   her the fifty thousand francs? But, on my honour, I had never
   cherished any such intention. What was at fault, I think, was
   her own pride, which kept urging her not to trust me, but,
   rather, t 
					     					 			o insult me--even though she had not realised the fact.
   In her eyes I corresponded to De Griers, and therefore had been
   condemned for a fault not wholly my own. Her mood of late had 
   been a sort of delirium, a sort of light-headedness--that I knew 
   full well; yet, never had I sufficiently taken it into consideration. 
   Perhaps she would not pardon me now? Ah, but this was THE PRESENT. 
   What about the future? Her delirium and sickness were not likely to
   make her forget what she had done in bringing me De Griers'
   letter. No, she must have known what she was doing when she
   brought it.
   Somehow I contrived to stuff the pile of notes and gold under
   the bed, to cover them over, and then to leave the room some ten
   minutes after Polina. I felt sure that she had returned to her
   own room; wherefore, I intended quietly to follow her, and to ask
   the nursemaid aid who opened the door how her mistress was.
   Judge, therefore, of my surprise when, meeting the domestic on
   the stairs, she informed me that Polina had not yet returned,
   and that she (the domestic) was at that moment on her way to my
   room in quest of her!
   "Mlle. left me but ten minutes ago," I said. 
   "What can have become of her?" The nursemaid looked at me 
   reproachfully.
   Already sundry rumours were flying about the hotel. Both in the
   office of the commissionaire and in that of the landlord it was
   whispered that, at seven o'clock that morning, the Fraulein had
   left the hotel, and set off, despite the rain, in the direction
   of the Hotel d'Angleterre. From words and hints let fall I could
   see that the fact of Polina having spent the night in my room
   was now public property. Also, sundry rumours were circulating
   concerning the General's family affairs. It was known that last
   night he had gone out of his mind, and paraded the hotel in
   tears; also, that the old lady who had arrived was his mother,
   and that she had come from Russia on purpose to forbid her son's
   marriage with Mlle. de Cominges, as well as to cut him out of
   her will if he should disobey her; also that, because he had
   disobeyed her, she had squandered all her money at roulette, in
   order to have nothing more to leave to him. "Oh, these
   Russians!" exclaimed the landlord, with an angry toss of the
   head, while the bystanders laughed and the clerk betook himself
   to his accounts. Also, every one had learnt about my winnings;
   Karl, the corridor lacquey, was the first to congratulate me.
   But with these folk I had nothing to do. My business was to set
   off at full speed to the Hotel d'Angleterre.
   As yet it was early for Mr. Astley to receive visitors; but, as
   soon as he learnt that it was I who had arrived, he came out
   into the corridor to meet me, and stood looking at me in silence
   with his steel-grey eyes as he waited to hear what I had to say.
   I inquired after Polina.
   "She is ill," he replied, still looking at me with his direct,
   unwavering glance.
   "And she is in your rooms."
   "Yes, she is in my rooms."
   "Then you are minded to keep her there?"
   "Yes, I am minded to keep her there."
   "But, Mr. Astley, that will raise a scandal. It ought not to be
   allowed. Besides, she is very ill. Perhaps you had not remarked
   that?"
   "Yes, I have. It was I who told you about it. Had she not been
   ill, she would not have gone and spent the night with you."
   "Then you know all about it?"
   "Yes; for last night she was to have accompanied me to the
   house of a relative of mine. Unfortunately, being ill, she made
   a mistake, and went to your rooms instead."
   "Indeed? Then I wish you joy, Mr. Astley. Apropos, you have
   reminded me of something. Were you beneath my window last night?
   Every moment Mlle. Polina kept telling me to open the window and
   see if you were there; after which she always smiled."
   "Indeed? No, I was not there; but I was waiting in the
   corridor, and walking about the hotel."
   "She ought to see a doctor, you know, Mr. Astley."