ul people, many reckless ones,
all those with purposes, fads, and fancies, were there. Here was an
irresponsible member of a Government department; there an officer of
His Majesty's troops; beyond, a profligate bachelor whose reputation for
traitorous diplomacy was known and feared. Yet everywhere were men known
in the sporting, gaming, or political world, in sea life or land life,
most of whom had a character untouched by criticism.

It was at this club that Dyck again met that tall, ascetic messenger
from the Attorney-General, who had brought the message to Miles Calhoun.
It was with this man--Leonard Mallow, eldest son of Lord Mallow--that
Dyck, with three others, played cards one afternoon.

The instinctive antipathy which had marked their first introduction was
carried on to this later meeting. Dyck distrusted Mallow, and allowed
his distrust exercise. It was unfortunate that Mallow won from him
three-fourths of the money he had brought to the club, and won it with a
smile not easy to forgive.

Dyck had at last secured sudden success in a scheme of his cards when
Mallow asked with a sneer:

"Did you learn that at your home in heaven?"

"Don't they teach it where you live in hell?" was Dyck's reply.

At this Mallow flicked Dyck across the face with his handkerchief.

"That's what they teach where I belong."

"Well, it's easy to learn, and we'll do the sum at any time or place you
please." After a moment Dyck continued: "I wouldn't make a fuss over it.
Let's finish the game. There's no good prancing till the sport's ready;
so I'll sit and learn more of what they teach in hell!"

Dyck had been drinking, or he would not have spoken so; and when he
was drunk daring was strong in him. He hated profoundly this man-so
self-satisfied and satanic.

He kept a perfect coolness, however. Leonard Mallow should not see that
he was upset. His wanton wordiness came to his rescue, and until the
end of the game he played with sang-froid, daring, and skill. He loved
cards; he loved the strife of skill against skill, of trick against
trick, of hand against hand. He had never fought a duel in his life, but
he had no fear of doing so.

At length, having won back nearly all he had lost, he rose to his feet
and looked round.

"Is there any one here from whom I can ask a favour?"

Several stepped forward. Dyck nodded. One of them he knew. It was Sir
Almeric Foyle.

"Thank you, Sir Almeric," he said; "thank you. Shall it be