The game
continued. Racksole lost trifles from time to time, but ninety-nine
hundredths of the luck was with him. As an English spectator at
the table remarked, 'he couldn't do wrong.' When midnight struck
the lady in the red hat was reduced to a thousand francs. Then she
fell into a winning vein for half an hour, but at one o'clock her
resources were exhausted. Of the hundred and sixty thousand
francs which she was reputed to have had early in the evening,
Racksole held about ninety thousand, and the bank had the rest.
It was a calamity for the Juno of the red hat. She jumped up,
stamped her foot, and hurried from the room. At a discreet
distance Racksole and the Prince pursued her.
'It might be well to ascertain her movements,' said Racksole.
Outside, in the glare of the great arc lights, and within sound of the
surf which beats always at the very foot of the Kursaal, the Juno of
the red hat summoned a fiacre and drove rapidly away. Racksole
and the Prince took an open carriage and started in pursuit. They
had not, however, travelled more than half a mile when Prince
Aribert stopped the carriage, and, bidding Racksole get out, paid
the driver and dismissed him.
'I feel sure I know where she is going,' he explained, 'and it will be
better for us to follow on foot.'
'You mean she is making for the scene of last night's affair?' said
Racksole.
'Exactly.
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