As the pointer of fortune circled on its last errand, I could catch the stifled breath of the crowd about me, so deep was the hush that fell upon us all.  I felt Tom’s hand tighten its clutch upon my shoulder.  I heard, or fancied I heard, the heart of the man upon my right thump against his ribs.  I could feel my own pulse beating all the while with steady and regular stroke.  Somehow I knew that I should win, and somehow it flashed upon me that she knew it too.  Even as the idea came darting across my brain, a multitude of pent-up cries broke forth from thirty pairs of white lips.  I scarcely looked to see the cause, but as I turned to our hostess her eyes looked straight into mine and her sweet voice rose above the din—­

“Gentlemen, we have played enough to-night.  The game is over.”

I had broken the bank.

I stood with Tom gathering up my winnings as the crowd slowly melted from the room, and as I did so, cast a glance at the woman whom I had thus defeated.  She was leaning back in her chair, apparently indifferent to her losses as to her gains.  Only her eyes were steadily fixed upon me as I shovelled the coin into my pockets.  As she caught my eye she pulled out a scrap of paper and a pencil, scribbled a few words, tossed the note to the man with the shovel, who instantly left the room, and said—­

“Is it far from this place to your home?”

“Not very.”

“That’s well; but be careful.  To win such a sum is only less dangerous than to lose it.  I shall see you again—­you and your talisman.  By the way, may I look at it for a moment?”

We were alone in the room, we three.  She took the clasp, looked at it intently for a full minute, and then returned it.  Already the dawn of another day was peering in through the chinks in the blinds, giving a ghastly faintness to the expiring candles, throwing a grey and sickening reality over the scene—­the disordered chairs, the floor strewn with scraps of paper, the signs and relics of the debauchery of play.  Ghastlier than all was the yellow face of the woman in the pitiless light.  But there she sat, seemingly untired, in all the splendour of her flashing gems, as we left her—­a very goddess of the gaming-table.

We had reached the door and were stepping into the darkness of the outer passage, when Tom whispered—­

“Be on your guard; that note meant mischief.”

I nodded, swung open the door, and stepped out into the darkness.  Even as I did so, I heard one quick step at my left side, saw a faint gleam, and felt myself violently struck upon the chest.  For a moment I staggered back, and then heard Tom rush past me and deal one crashing blow.

“Run, run!  Down the passage, quick!”

In an instant we were tearing through the black darkness to the outer door, but in that instant I could see, through the open door behind, in the glare of all the candles, the figure of the yellow woman still sitting motionless and calm.