did not belong to her, at a rout given by the Countess of ----.
Unfortunately a discovery of the cloak was made, and when the servant
knocked at the door to demand it, some very valuable lace which it was
trimmed with had been taken off. Some surmised that the lady who stole
the cloak might also have stolen the Faro bank cash-box.

Soon after, the same Martindale, who had kept the Faro bank at Lady
Buckinghamshire's, became a bankrupt, and his debts amounted to
L328,000, besides 'debts of honour,' which were struck off to the
amount of L150,000. His failure is said to have been owing to misplaced
confidence in a subordinate, who robbed him of thousands. The first
suspicion was occasioned by his purchasing an estate of L500 a year;
but other purchases followed to a considerable extent; and it was soon
discovered that the Faro bank had been robbed sometimes of 2000 guineas
a week! On the 14th of April, 1798, other arrears, to a large amount,
were submitted to, and rejected by, the Commissioners in Bankruptcy,
who declared a first dividend of one shilling and five-pence in the
pound.(104)

(104) Seymour Harcourt, _Gaming Calendar._

This chapter cannot be better concluded than with quoting the _Epilogue_
of 'The Oxonian in Town,' 1767, humorously painting some of the
mischiefs of gambling, and expressly addressed to the ladies:--

'Lo! next, to my prophetic eye there starts A beauteous gamestress in
the Queen of Hearts. The cards are dealt, the fatal pool is lost, And
all her golden hopes for ever cross'd. Yet still this card-devoted fair
I view--Whate'er her luck, to "_honour_" ever true. So tender there,--if
debts crowd fast upon her, She'll pawn her "virtue" to preserve her
"honour." Thrice happy were my art, could I foretell, Cards would be
soon abjured by every belle! Yet, I pronounce, who cherish still the
vice, And the pale vigils keep of cards and dice--'Twill in their charms
sad havoc make, ye fair! Which "rouge" in vain shall labour to repair.
Beauties will grow mere hags, toasts wither'd jades, Frightful and ugly
as--the _QUEEN OF SPADES_.'

CHAPTER XI. GAMBLING POETS, SAVANTS, PHILOSOPHERS, WITS, AND STATESMEN.

Perhaps the stern moralist who may have turned over these pages has
frowned at the facts of the preceding chapter. If so, I know not what he
will do at those which I am about to record.

If it may be said that gamesters must be madmen, or rogues, how has it
come to pass that men of genius