High play, with all its consequences of passionate outbreaks, ruin, and duelling, were the pastimes of this ill-fated _loge_; and, notwithstanding the attractions the box underneath contained, Jack Beauclerc was far oftener in the second tier than the first. He was, indeed, a most inveterate gambler; and the few moments which he devoted to attending the Marquesa to her box, or her carriage, were so many instants of pregnant impatience till he was back at the play-table. It was on one evening, when, having lost a very heavy sum, that his turn came to deal; and, with the superstitious feeling that only a play-man can understand, he resolved to stake a very large amount upon the game. The attention of the bystanders--never very deeply engaged by the _scène_--was now entirely engrossed by the play-table, where Beauclerc and his adversary were seated at _écarté_. It was that critical moment when the cards were dealt, but the trump not yet turned, and Beauclerc sat enjoying, with a gambler’s “malign” delight, the eager anxiety in the other player’s countenance, when suddenly a voice said,-- “Ha, Beauclerc! the Marquesa is rising--she is about to leave the theatre.” “Impossible!” said he; “it is only the second act.” “It is quite true, though,” rejoined another; “she is putting on her mantle.” “Never mind our party, then,” cried Beauclerc’s antagonist; “I will hold myself ready to play the match out whenever you please.” “I please it now, then!” said he, with a degree of energy that heavy losses had, in spite of him, rendered uncontrollable. “Il Signor Beauclerc!” said a servant, approaching, “the Marquis d’Espagna desires to see you.” “Tell him I am engaged--I can’t come,” said Beauclerc, turning up the trump-card, which he held out triumphantly before his adversary, saying, “The king!” At the same instant the old Marquis entered, and, approaching the table, whispered a few words in his ear. If an adder had pierced him with its sting, Beauclerc could not have started with a more agonised expression; and he sprang from the chair and rushed out of the theatre, not by the door, however, where the Marquesa’s carriage was yet standing, but by a private passage, which led more easily towards his lodgings. “What is this piece of news, that all are so amused by?” said the King, the next morning, as he was rising. “Your majesty alludes to the Marquis d’Es-pagna, no doubt,” said Count Villafranca. “He challenged the young English _attaché_ last night, at the theatre, and they have been out this morning; and, strange to say, that the Marquis, the very best swordsman we have ever had here, was disarmed and run through the side by his antagonist.” “Is the wound dangerous?” said the King, coolly.