"I have still these two hundred dollars," said I, "They are of no more
service to me for the purchase of Aurore than if they were so many
pebbles. Suppose I try to increase the amount at the gaming-table?"
"Oh, I fear it would be an idle attempt. You would lose as before."
"That is not so certain, Monsieur. The chances at least are equal. I
need not play with men of skill, like those upon the boat. Here in New
Orleans there are gaming-houses, plenty of them, where _games of chance_
are carried on. These are of various kinds--as _faro, craps, loto_, and
_roulette_. I can choose some one of these, where bets are made on the
tossing of a die or the turning of a card. It is just as likely I may
win as lose. What say you, Monsieur? Give me your counsel."
"You speak truly," replied he. "There is a chance in the game. It
offers a hope of your winning. If you lose, you will be no worse off as
regards your intentions for to-morrow. If you win--"
"True, true--if I win--"
"You must not lose time, then. It is growing late. These gaming-houses
should be open at this hour: no doubt, they are now in the very tide of
their business. Let us find one."
"You will go with me? Thanks, Monsieur D'Hauteville!
Thanks--_allons_!"
We hastily traversed the walk that led to the entrance of the cemetery;
and, issuing from the gate, took our way back into the town.
We headed for our point of departure--the Rue Saint Louis; for I knew
that in that neighbourhood lay the principal gambling hells.
It was not difficult to find them. At that period there was no
concealment required in such matters. The gambling passion among the
Creoles, inherited from the original possessors of the city, was too
rife among all classes to be put down by a police. The municipal
authorities in the American quarter had taken some steps toward the
suppression of this vice; but their laws had no force on the French side
of Canal Street; and Creole police had far different ideas, as well as
different instructions. In the French faubourgs gaming was not
considered so hideous a crime, and the houses appropriated to it were
open and avowed.
As you passed along Rue Conti, or Saint Louis, or the Rue Bourbon, you
could not fail to notice several large gilded lamps, upon which you
might read "faro" and "craps", "loto" or "roulette,"--odd words to the
eyes of the uninitiated, but well enough understood by those whose
business it was to traverse the streets of the "First Municipality."
Our hurrying stops soon brought us in front of one of these
establishments, whose lamp told us in plain letters that "faro" was
played inside.
It was the first that offered; and, without hesitating a moment, I
entered, followed by D'Hauteville.
We had to climb a wide stairway, at the top of which we were received by
a whiskered and moustached fellow in waiting. I supposed that he was
about to demand some fee for admission. I was mistaken in my
conjecture. Admission was perfectly free. The purpose of this
individual in staying us was to divest us of arms, for which he handed
us a ticket, that we might reclaim them in going out. That he had
disarmed a goodly number before our turn came, was evident from the
numerous butts of pistols, hafts of bowie-knives, and handles of
daggers, that protruded from the pigeon-holes of a shelf-like structure
standing in one corner of the passage.
The whole proceeding reminded me of the scenes I had often witnessed--
the surrender of canes, umbrellas, and parasols, on entering a
picture-gallery or a museum. No doubt it was a necessary precaution--
the non-observance of which would have led to many a scene of blood over
the gaming-table.
We yielded up our weapons--I a pair of pistols, and my companion a small
silver dagger. These were ticketed, duplicates delivered to us, and we
were allowed to pass on into the "_saloon_."