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Updated: May 31, 2025
Not unfrequently, after an unlucky run, the bank gets "broke;" and the proprietor of it may be years before he can establish another. An assistant or "croupier" usually sits beside the dealer. His business is to exchange the "cheques" for money, to pay the bets lost, and gather in those which the bank has won.
The proprietors of the bank did not fail to remark these persons; but scrupled, from fear of disturbing the propriety of the salon, to take the necessary steps for their exclusion reserving their attention to the adoption of precautions against such intrusion in future unfortunately, as it turned out eventually, for, towards eleven o'clock, one of these individuals, having lost a considerable sum at play, proceeded in a very violent and outrageous manner to denounce the bank, and went so far as to accuse the croupier of cheating.
Then the croupier deals the cards out slowly and solemnly one after another, calling out their names as they fall, until he comes say to a king; when those who have betted on the king have their stakes doubled, and the others lose theirs. The banker has a great advantage to compensate him for his expense and risk.
"GENTLEMEN, what will it profit you, if you gain the whole world and lose your own souls; for what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?" A dead silence followed these questions, but as John left the room with his brother, he heard an angry querulous voice exclaim, "Most outrageous! Most unusual! O croupier! croupier!" Then he was at the door.
The "croupier" revolves the wheel to the right. With a quick motion of his middle finger he flicks a marble, usually of ivory, to the left. At the Vesper Club, always up-to-date, the ball was of platinum, not of ivory. The disc with its sloping sides is provided with a number of brass rods, some perpendicular, some horizontal.
It happened to be seventeen. The croupier spun the wheel again. The ball whirled round, dipped down once or twice, and plumped into the compartment numbered seventeen. "Enough's a-plenty. Here's where I cash in," announced Steve cheerfully. He stuffed the bills carelessly into his pocket and strolled over to the faro table. Yeager had come on business, not for pleasure.
It was nothing but black that morning. 'Mais c'est épatant! murmured several on lookers anxiously. A croupier counted out innumerable notes, and sundry noble and glorious gold plaques of a hundred francs each. Henry could not check the totals, but he knew vaguely that another three hundred pounds or so had accrued to him, on behalf of Cosette. 'I fancy red now, he said, sighing.
And feeling a terrible habitué, he said to the croupier in French: 'Maximum. Rouge. 'Maximum. Rouge, repeated the croupier. Instantly the red enclosure was covered with the stakes of a quantity of persons who had determined to partake of Henry's luck. And red won; it was the number fourteen.
There isn't a croupier at Monte Carlo who could have done it. Buffalo Bill couldn't have done it. Ned Buntline wouldn't have had Buffalo Bill trying to do it. Doug Fairbanks couldn't do it. I couldn't do it myself.
She sat at the left of a croupier, who was helping her to place her numerous stakes. Beside her was Lady Dauntrey, and behind her chair, tall and pale and very haggard, Lord Dauntrey stood. Vanno guessed, with a mingling of relief and regret, that Mary must have gone to live at the Villa Bella Vista. The ball spun round, rested in the pocket of number 11, and all Mary's stakes were swept away.
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