er from Vienna, the greatest villain, they say, that ever touched a
card. Ye may have heerd of him, tho' 'twas long ago that he lived, for
he was well known in them times. He was the Baron von Breckendorf, and a
great friend afterward of the Prince Ragint and all the other blaguards
in London.

"Well, sir, the baron arrives in great state, with dispatches, they
said, but sorrow other dispatch he carried nor some packs of marked
cards, and a dice-box that could throw sixes whenever ye wanted; and he
puts up at the Grand Hotel, with all his servants in fine liveries, and
as much state as a prince. That very day Mr. Brooke dined with the
count, and in the evening himself and the baron sits down to the cards;
and, pretending to be only playin' for silver, they were betting a
hundred guineas on every game.

"I always heerd that my master was cute with the cards, and that few was
equal to him in any game with pasteboard or ivory; but, be my
conscience, he met his match now, for if it was ould Nick was playin' he
couldn't do the thrick nater nor the baron. He made every thing come up
just like magic: if he wanted a seven of diamonds, or an ace of spades,
or the knave of clubs, there it was for you.

"Most gentlemen would have lost temper at seein' the luck so dead agin'
them, and every thing goin' so bad, but my master only smiled, and kept
muttering to himself, 'Faix, it's beautiful; by my conscience it is
elegant; I never saw any body could do it like that.' At last the baron
stops and asks, 'What is it he's saying to himself?' 'I'll tell you
by-and-by,' says my master, 'when we're done playing;' and so on they
went, betting higher and higher, till at last the stakes wasn't very far
from a thousand pounds on a single card. At the end, Mr. Brooke lost
every thing, and in the last game, by way of generosity, the baron says
to him, 'Double or quit?' and he tuk it.

"This time luck stood to my master, and he turned the queen of hearts;
and as there was only one card could beat him, the game was all as one
as his own. The baron takes up the pack, and begins to deal, 'Wait,'
says my master, leaning over the table, and talking in a whisper;
'wait,' says he, 'what are ye doin' there wid your thumb?' for sure
enough he had his thumb dug hard into the middle of the pack.

"'Do you mane to insult me,' says the baron, getting mighty red, and
throwing down the cards on the table, 'Is that what you're at?'

"'Go on with the deal,' s