“Evil, indeed! Not much; but even if it were, I tell you Ned Clifford, I am just now in the mood to say, 'Evil be thou my good!' I have reason to say it; and, by the powers, it will not be said only. I will make evil my good after a fashion of my own; but how much good or now little evil, will be yet another question.” I was interested, in spite of myself, by the vehemence and unusual seriousness of my companion's manner. It somewhat harmonized with my own temper, and in a measure beguiled me into a momentary heedlessness of my particular griefs. I urged him to a more frank statement of the things that troubled him. “Can I serve you in anything?” was the inquiry which concluded my assurance that I was sufficiently his friend to sympathize with him in his afflictions. “You can serve me, and I need your service. You can serve me in two respects; nay, if you do not, I know not which side to turn for service. In the first place, then, I wish a hundred dollars, and I wish it to-night. In the next place, I wish a companion--a man not easily scared, who will follow where I lead him, and take part in a 'knock down and drag out,' if it should become necessary, without asking the why and the wherefore.” “You shall have the money, Kingsley.” “Stay! Perhaps I may never pay it you again.” “I shall regret that, for I can ill afford to lose any such sum; but, even to know that would not prevent me from lending you in your need. It is enough that you are in want. You tell me you are.” “I am; but my wants are not such as a pure moralist, however strong might be his friendship, would be disposed to gratify. I shall stake that money on the roll of the dice.” “Impossible! You do not game!” “True as a gospel! Hark you, Clifford, and save us the homily. I am a ruined man--ruined by the d---d dice and the deceptive cards. I shall pay you back the hundred dollars, but I shall have precious little after that.” “But, surely, I was not misinformed. You were rich a few years ago.” “A few months! But the case is the same. I am poor now. My riches had wings. I am reduced to my tail-feathers; but I will flourish with these to the last. I have fallen among thieves. They have clipped my plumage--close! close! They have stripped me of everything, but some small matters which, when sold, will just suffice to get me horse or halter. Some dirty acres in Alabama, are all I absolutely have remaining of any real value. But there is one thing that I may have, if I stake boldly for it.” “You will only lose again. The hope of a gamester rises, in due degree, with the increasing lightness of his pockets.”