“What are you rattling in there?” said Wildeve.

“Only the dice, sir,” said Christian, quickly withdrawing his hand.  “What magical machines these little things be, Mr. Wildeve!  ’Tis a game I should never get tired of.  Would you mind my taking ’em out and looking at ’em for a minute, to see how they are made?  I didn’t like to look close before the other men, for fear they should think it bad manners in me.”  Christian took them out and examined them in the hollow of his hand by the lantern light.  “That these little things should carry such luck, and such charm, and such a spell, and such power in ’em, passes all I ever heard or zeed,” he went on, with a fascinated gaze at the dice, which, as is frequently the case in country places, were made of wood, the points being burnt upon each face with the end of a wire.

“They are a great deal in a small compass, You think?”

“Yes.  Do ye suppose they really be the devil’s playthings, Mr. Wildeve?  If so, ’tis no good sign that I be such a lucky man.”

“You ought to win some money, now that you’ve got them.  Any woman would marry you then.  Now is your time, Christian, and I would recommend you not to let it slip.  Some men are born to luck, some are not.  I belong to the latter class.”

“Did you ever know anybody who was born to it besides myself?”

“O yes.  I once heard of an Italian, who sat down at a gaming table with only a louis (that’s a foreign sovereign) in his pocket.  He played on for twenty-four hours, and won ten thousand pounds, stripping the bank he had played against.  Then there was another man who had lost a thousand pounds, and went to the broker’s next day to sell stock, that he might pay the debt.  The man to whom he owed the money went with him in a hackney-coach; and to pass the time they tossed who should pay the fare.  The ruined man won, and the other was tempted to continue the game, and they played all the way.  When the coachman stopped he was told to drive home again:  the whole thousand pounds had been won back by the man who was going to sell.”

“Ha—­ha—­splendid!” exclaimed Christian.  “Go on—­go on!”

“Then there was a man of London, who was only a waiter at White’s clubhouse.  He began playing first half-crown stakes, and then higher and higher, till he became very rich, got an appointment in India, and rose to be Governor of Madras.  His daughter married a member of Parliament, and the Bishop of Carlisle stood godfather to one of the children.”

“Wonderful! wonderful!”

“And once there was a young man in America who gambled till he had lost his last dollar.  He staked his watch and chain, and lost as before; staked his umbrella, lost again; staked his hat, lost again; staked his coat and stood in his shirt-sleeve; lost again.  Began taking off his breeches, and then a looker-on gave him a trifle for his pluck.  With this he won.  Won back his coat, won back his hat, won back his umbrella, his watch, his money, and went out of the door a rich man.”