Instead of a laugh, Charley's joke was received with a grunt of approbation. One man alone seemed insensible to the incidents of the game. This was a gentleman of some sixty years, dressed in accordance with the latest Parisian _mode_. In him Esther recognized George Selwyn, who had been one of the most amiable, one of the wittiest men of his time, but was now absorbed and besotted by a passion more potent than that of gaming. Up to this time the actress had not seen the banker, whose back was turned to her and who had not uttered a word. At this moment, however, the following disdainful words escaped him: "Ten thousand pounds, and no more! What a shame that I should have played for such low stakes!" Esther started at sound of that voice, which she had heard not more than twice, but which she recognized instantly. It was Lord Mowbray, that terrible Mowbray, against whose love she had been warned! A man entered the room and approached her with a glass of water in his hand. "I see that you are better," he said. "Never mind; drink this to secure your recovery." Esther hesitated. Still fluttered by the discovery which she had just made, she could not but be mindful of Lady Vereker's warning words. How many times had she read in romances and journals strange narratives of young girls being rendered helpless by narcotics! Ought she to drink, to trust this unknown man? She looked at him, and her perplexity increased. Another enigma to decipher: a generous sentiment pictured upon an evil countenance. In fact, all the passions seemed to have left their trace upon that worn, pallid, haggard face. His age was uncertain, his condition ambiguous; his accent even sounded a note of doubt upon the nationality of the individual, offering no clew. Was he of middle age or old; valet or gentleman; English or a foreigner? One surprising thing was that the hard, bold manner which might well be habitual vanished before an expression of interest which seemed sincere. As he noted the girl's hesitation a trace of sadness passed over his coarsened features, almost ennobling them. "I am not thirsty," she said, loath to wound the feelings of one who had already shown her consideration. And he, regaining his accustomed composure, placed the glass upon a console. Softly as Esther had spoken, Lord Mowbray had heard her. He turned and bent his stupefied gaze upon her. Esther, alone, in the torn garments of a serving maid, half fainting, in the card-room of the Brooks Club! Assuredly there was food in plenty for his surprise. What fate had sent his prey into his very clutches? Fortune, it is said, never comes single-handed! After the doublet, this fairest flower! And he was just the man to profit by his luck. "Gentlemen," he said, rising as he spoke, "circumstances oblige me to--" A cry of indignation interrupted his words, while three or four hands were placed upon his shoulders, forcibly obliging him to resume his seat.