the last, whether he lost or won. He had
often so determined before, to be sure, and as often broken his
determination; and so it was this time. He lost; and while his
antagonist smilingly swept away the stakes, he turned chalky white, drew
back in silence, and wiped his forehead. I was present at the time; and
while he stood with folded arms and eyes fixed on the ground, I knew well
enough what was passing in his mind.

'"Is it to be the last, Lowborough?" said I, stepping up to him.

'"The last but one," he answered, with a grim smile; and then, rushing
back to the table, he struck his hand upon it, and, raising his voice
high above all the confusion of jingling coins and muttered oaths and
curses in the room, he swore a deep and solemn oath that, come what
would, this trial should be the last, and imprecated unspeakable curses
on his head if ever he should shuffle a card or rattle a dice-box again.
He then doubled his former stake, and challenged any one present to play
against him. Grimsby instantly presented himself. Lowborough glared
fiercely at him, for Grimsby was almost as celebrated for his luck as he
was for his ill-fortune. However, they fell to work. But Grimsby had
much skill and little scruple, and whether he took advantage of the
other's trembling, blinded eagerness to deal unfairly by him, I cannot
undertake to say; but Lowborough lost again, and fell dead sick.

'"You'd better try once more," said Grimsby, leaning across the table.
And then he winked at me.

'"I've nothing to try with," said the poor devil, with a ghastly smile.

'"Oh, Huntingdon will lend you what you want," said the other.

'"No; you heard my oath," answered Lowborough, turning away in quiet
despair. And I took him by the arm and led him out.

'"Is it to be the last, Lowborough?" I asked, when I got him into the
street.

'"The last," he answered, somewhat against my expectation. And I took
him home--that is, to our club--for he was as submissive as a child--and
plied him with brandy-and-water till he began to look rather
brighter--rather more alive, at least.

'"Huntingdon, I'm ruined!" said he, taking the third glass from my
hand--he had drunk the others in dead silence.

'"Not you," said I. "You'll find a man can live without his money as
merrily as a tortoise without its head, or a wasp without its body."

'"But I'm in debt," said he--"deep in debt. And I can never, never get
out of it."

'"Well, what of t