as very good, called forth frequent eulogiums from the
Captain, who offered to bet unheard-of sums on the certainty of his
winning (which, as there was no one in the room at all likely to accept
his offer, was a very safe and innocent amusement), and again, _pari
passu_, did Cumberland's skill keep pace with his. After playing neck
and neck, till nearly the end of the game, Cumberland gained a slight
advantage, which produced the following state of affairs:--It was
Oaklands' turn to play, and the balls were placed in such a position,
that by a brilliant stroke he might win the game, but it required great
skill to do so. If he failed, the chances were so much in Cumberland's
favour as to render his success almost a certainty. It was an anxious
moment: for my own part, I felt as if I scarcely dared breathe, and
could distinctly hear the throbbing of my own heart, while the Captain,
after having most liberally offered to bet five hundred pounds to five
pence that he did it, remained silent and ~69~~motionless as a statue,
watching the proceedings, with his eye-glass screwed after some
mysterious fashion into the corner of his eye. And now, carefully and
deliberately, Oaklands pointed his cue--his elbow was drawn back for the
stroke--for the last time his eye appeared to measure and calculate
the precise spot he must strike to produce the desired effect--when
suddenly, and at the exact moment in which the cue struck the ball, a
sonorous sneeze from the rat-like billiard-marker resounded through
the room; as a necessary consequence, Oaklands gave a slight start and
missed his stroke. The confusion that ensued can "better be imagined
than described," as the newspapers always say about the return from
Epsom. With an exclamation of anger and disappointment Oaklands turned
away from the table, while the Captain began storming at Slipsey, whom
he declared himself ready to kick till all was blue, for the trifling
remuneration of half a farthing. The marker himself apologised, with
great contrition, for his delinquency, which he declared was quite
involuntary, at the same time asserting that, to the best of his belief,
the gentleman had made his stroke _before_ he sneezed: this Oaklands
denied, and appealed to Cumberland for his opinion. After trying in
various ways to avoid giving a direct answer, and appealing in his turn
to Captain Spicer (who was so intensely positive that the sneeze had
preceded the stroke, that he was willing t