"I will have it to-day," cried Eugene, springing up and shutting the door. "Not one of you shall stir. Keep your places and play; here is money." He threw a bundle of matches on the table. "Every match stands for a dollar; no stake under. I will pay to-morrow." The game went on; Eugene continued to lose; the matches were scattered in all directions, as by some secret spell. Eugene got another bundle, exclaiming wildly, "We'll reckon when we separate." Bolling rose and stamped with his chair. "Whoever leaves the room is a scoundrel!" cried Eugene. "You are a fool!" said the other, angrily. "It is a shame to take all a comrade's money as we are doing to-day. I have never seen such a thing. If it be Satan's contriving, I will not help him further." He rose and sat apart. Anton joined him. Both looked on in silence at the desperate way in which gold was flung about. "I too have had enough of it," said the doctor, showing a thick bundle of matches in his hand. "This is a singular evening; since I have known cards, such a case as this has never come within my experience." Once more Eugene sprang to the side-table where the matches lay, but Bolling seized the whole box and flung them into the street. "Better that they burn our boots than your purse," cried he. Then throwing the cards on the floor, "The game shall cease, I say." "I will not be dictated to thus," retorted Eugene, in a rage. Bolling buckled on his sword and laid his hand on the belt. "I will talk to you to-morrow. And now make your reckoning, gentlemen," said he; "we are going to break up." The counters were thrown on the table, the doctor counting. Eugene gloomily took out his pocket-book, and entered into it the amount of his debt to each. The company retired without any courteous greetings. On the way the doctor said, "He owes eight hundred dollars." Bolling shrugged his shoulders. "I hope he can raise the money; but I do wish you had kept your cards in your pocket. If the story gets about, Rothsattel will have cause to regret it. We shall all do our best to hush it up, and I request you, Mr. Wohlfart, to do the same." Anton returned to his lodgings in the utmost excitement. The whole evening he had sat upon thorns, and silently reproached the spendthrift. He regretted having lent him money, and yet felt it would have been impossible to refuse. The following morning, just as he was setting out to pay Eugene a visit, the door opened, and Eugene himself entered, out of tune, dejected, unsteady. "A horrid piece of ill luck yesterday," cried he. "I am in great straits; I must get hold of eight hundred dollars, and have not in all this luckless town a friend to whom I can turn except you. Exert your faculties, Anton, and contrive to get me the money." "It is no easy matter for me to do so," replied Anton, gravely. "The sum is no inconsiderable one, and the money which I have here at my disposal is not my own."