ut these solemn words:

"Rule XIX. No higher stakes than guinea points shall ever be played for,
nor shall any card or billiard playing be permitted in the club after 3
A.M."

"There's your confounded money; what a fool of a club to let you stay
here all night if you like, and to stop card-playing at three!" He
turned to Lionel. "Well, Moore, what did you say: twenty pounds? I'll
just make it thirty, if you like, and see if I can't get back that ten."

"Right with you, Johnny."

The young man dealt the two hands: he found he had a pair of fours,
Lionel nothing but a king. The winner took over the loser's I.O.U. for
the L30, and then said,

"Well, now, I'll go you double or quits."

"Oh, certainly," said Lionel, "if you like. But I don't think you
should. You are the winner; stick to what you've got."

"Oh, I'll give you a chance to get it all back," the young man said; and
this time Lionel dealt the cards. And again the latter lost--having to
substitute an I.O.U. for L60 for its predecessor.

"Well, now, I'll give you one more chance," the winner said, with a
laugh.

"I'm hanged if you shall, Johnny!" said one of the bystanders; and he
had the courage to intervene and snatch up the cards. "Come away to your
beds, boys, and stop that nonsense! You've lost enough, Moore; and this
fellow would go on till Doomsday."

But that insatiate young man was not to be beaten, after all. When they
were separating in the street below he drew Lionel aside.

"Look here, old man, why should we be deprived of our final little
flutter? I want to give you a chance of getting back the whole thing."

"Not at all, my good fellow," Lionel said, with a smile. "Why don't you
keep the money and rest content? Do you think I grudge it to you?"

"Come--an absolutely last double or quits," said the other, and he
pulled out a coin from his pocket and put it between his two palms.
"Heads or tails?--and then go home happy!"

"Well, since you challenge me, I'll go this once more, and this once
more only. I call a tail."

The upper hand was removed: in the dull lamp-light the dusky gold coin
was examined.

"It's a head," said Lionel, "so that's all right, and it's you who are
to go home happy. I'll settle up with you to-morrow evening. Do you want
this hansom?--I don't: I think I'd rather walk. Good-night, Johnny."

It was a long price to pay for a few hours of distraction and
forgetfulness; still, he had had these; and the loss of the