"Nay! nay! my dear Segrave," replied Lord Walterton, shaking himself like a sleepy dog, "the game hath ceased to have any pleasure for me, as our young friend here hath remarked. . . . I wish you good luck . . . and good-night."
Whereupon he turned on his heel and straddled away to another corner of the room, away from the temptation of that green-covered table.
"We two then, Master Lambert," said Segrave with ever-growing excitement, "what say you? Double or quits?"
And he pointed, with that same febrile movement of his, to the heap of gold standing on the table beside Lambert.
"As you please," replied the latter quietly, as he pushed the entire pile forward.
Segrave dealt, then turned up his card.
"Ten!" he said curtly.
"Mine is a knave," rejoined Lambert.
"How do we stand?" queried the other, as with a rapid gesture he passed a trembling hand over his burning forehead.
"Methinks you owe me a hundred pounds," replied Richard, who seemed strangely calm in the very midst of this inexplicable and volcanic turmoil which he felt was seething all round him. He had won a hundred pounds — a fortune in those days for a country lad like himself; but for the moment the thought of what that hundred pounds would mean to him and to his brother Adam, was lost in the whirl of excitement which had risen to his head like wine.
He had steadily refused the glasses of muscadel or sack which Mistress Endicott had insinuatingly and persistently been offering him, ever since he began to play; yet he felt intoxicated, with strange currents of fire which seemed to run through his veins.
The subtle poison had done its work. Any remorse which he may have felt at first, for thus acting against his own will and better judgment, and for yielding like a weakling to persuasion, which had no moral rectitude for basis, was momentarily smothered by the almost childish delight of winning, of seeing the pile of gold growing in front of him. He had never handled money before; it was like a fascinating yet insidious toy which he could not help but finger.
"Are you not playing rather high, gentlemen?" came in dulcet tones from Mistress Endicott; "I do not allow high play in my house. Master Lambert, I would fain ask you to cease."
"I am more than ready, madam," said Richard with alacrity.
"Nay! but I am not ready," interposed Segrave vehemently. "Nay! nay!" he repeated with feverish insistence, "Master Lambert cannot cease playing now. He is bound in honor to give me a chance for revenge. . . . Double or quits, Master Lambert! . . . Double or quits?"
"As you please," quoth Lambert imperturbably.
"Ye cannot cut to each other," here interposed Endicott didactically. "The rules of primero moreover demand that if there are but two players, a third and disinterested party shall deal the cards."
"Then will you cut and deal, Master Endicott," said Segrave impatiently; "I care not so long as I can break Master Lambert's luck and redeem mine own. . . . Double or quits, Master Lambert. . . . Double or quits. . . . I shall either owe you two hundred pounds or not one penny. . . . In which case we can make a fresh start. . . ."
Lambert eyed him with curiosity, sympathetically too, for the young man was in a state of terrible mental agitation, whilst he himself felt cooler than before.
Endicott dealt each of the two opponents a card face downwards, but even as he did so, the one which he had dealt to Lambert fluttered to the ground.
He stooped and picked it up.
Segrave's eyes at the moment were fixed on his own card, Lambert's on the face of his opponent. No one else in the room was paying any attention to the play of the two young men, for everyone was busy with his own affairs. Play was general, the hour late. The wines had been heady, and all tempers were at fever pitch.
No one, therefore, was watching Endicott's movements at the moment when he ostensibly stooped to pick up the fallen card.
"It is not faced," he said, "what shall we do?"
"Give it to Master Lambert forsooth," quoth Mistress Endicott, "'tis unlucky to re-deal . . . providing," she added artfully, "that Master Segrave hath no objection."
"Nay! nay!" said the latter. "Begad! why should we stop the game for a trifle?"
Then as Lambert took the card from Endicott and casually glanced at it, Segrave declared:
"Queen!"
"King!" retorted Lambert, with the same perfect calm. "King of diamonds . . . that card has been persistently faithful to me to-night."
"The devil himself hath been faithful to you, Master Lambert . . ." said Segrave tonelessly, "you have the hell's own luck. . . . What do I pay you now?"
"It was double or quits, Master Segrave," rejoined Lambert, "which brings it up to two hundred pounds. . . . You will do me the justice to own that I did not seek this game."
In his heart he had already resolved not to make use of his own winnings. Somehow as in a flash of intuition he perceived the whole tragedy of dishonor and of ruin which seemed to be writ on his opponent's face. He understood that what he had regarded as a toy — welcome no doubt, but treacherous for all that — was a matter of life or death — nay! more mayhap to that pallid youth, with the hectic flush, the unnaturally bright eyes and trembling hands.
There was silence for a while round the green-topped table, whilst thoughts, feelings, presentiments of very varied kinds congregated there. With Endicott and his wife, and also with Sir Marmaduke, it was acute tension, the awful nerve strain of anticipation. The seconds for them seemed an eternity, the obsession of waiting was like lead on their brains.
During that moment of acute suspense Richard Lambert was quietly co-ordinating his thoughts.
With that one mental flash-light which had shown up to him the hitherto unsuspected tragedy, the latent excitement in him had vanished. He saw his own weakness in its true light, despised himself for having yielded, and looked upon the heap of gold before him as so much ill-gotten wealth, which it would be a delight to restore to the hand from whence it came.
He heartily pitied the young man before him, and was forming vague projects of how best to make him understand in private and without humiliation that the money which he had lost would be returned to him in full. Strangely enough he was still holding in his hand that king of diamonds which Endicott had dealt to him.
CHAPTER XIX
DISGRACE
Segrave, too, had been silent, of course. In his mind there was neither suspense nor calm. It was utter, dull and blank despair which assailed him, the ruin of his fondest hopes, an awful abyss of disgrace, of punishment, of death at best, which seemed to yawn before him from the other side of the baize-covered table.
Instinct — that ever-present instinct of self-control peculiar to the gently-bred race of mankind — caused him to make frantic efforts to keep himself and his nerves in check. He would — even at this moment of complete ruin — have given the last shreds of his worldly possessions to be able to steady the febrile movements of his hand.
The pack of cards was on the table, just as Endicott had put it down, after dealing, with the exception of the queen of hearts in front of Segrave and the lucky king of diamonds on which Lambert was still mechanically gazing.
He was undoubtedly moved by the desire to hide the trembling of his hands and the gathering tears in his eyes when he began idly to scatter the pack upon the table, spreading out the cards, fingering them one by one, setting his teeth the while lest that latent cry of misery should force its way across his lips.
Suddenly