The Squire, who is fourth player drops the king to Captain Higginbotham's lead of the ace of hearts. Now the Captain has left queen, knave, and two other hearts--four trumps to the queen and nothing to win a trick with in the two other suits. This hand is therefore precisely one of those in which, especially after the fall of that king of hearts in the adversary's hand, it becomes a matter of reasonable doubt whether to lead trumps or not. The Captain hesitates, and not liking to play out his good hearts with the certainty of their being trumped by the Squire, nor, on the other hand, liking to open the other suits in which he has not a card that can assist his partner, resolves, as becomes a military man, in such a dilemma, to make a bold push and lead out trumps, in the chance of finding his partner strong, and so bringing in his long suit. SQUIRE, taking advantage of the much meditating pause made by the Captain.--"Mrs. Dale, it is not my fault. I have asked Rickeybockey--time out of mind. But I suppose I am not fine enough for those foreign chaps--he won't come--that's all I know!" PARSON, aghast at seeing the Captain play out trumps, of which he, Mr. Dale, has only two, wherewith he expects to ruff the suit of spades of which he has only one (the cards all falling in suits) while he has not a single other chance of a trick in his hand: "Really, Squire, we had better give up playing if you put out my partner in this extraordinary way--jabber--jabber--jabber!" SQUIRE.--"Well, we must be good children, Harry. What!--trumps, Barney? Thank ye for that!" And the Squire might well be grateful, for the unfortunate adversary has led up to ace, king, knave--with two other trumps. Squire takes the Parson's ten with his knave, and plays out ace, king; then, having cleared all the trumps except the Captain's queen and his own remaining two, leads off tierce major in that very suit of spades of which the Parson has only one--and the Captain, indeed, but two--forces out the Captain's queen, and wins the game in a canter. PARSON, with a look at the Captain which might have become the awful brows of Jove, when about to thunder: "That, I suppose, is the new fashioned London play! In my time the rule was 'First save the game, then try to win it.'" CAPTAIN.--"Could not save it, sir." PARSON, exploding.--"Not save it!--two ruffs in my own hand--two tricks certain till you took them out! Monstrous! The rashest trump."--Seizes the cards--spreads them on the table, lip quivering, hands trembling--tries to show how five tricks could have been gained--(N.B. it is _short_ whist, which Captain Barnabas had introduced at the Hall) can't make out more than four--Captain smiles triumphantly--Parson in a passion, and not at all convinced, mixes all the cards together again, and falling back in his chair, groans, with tears in his voice: "The cruelest trump! the most wanton cruelty!" The Hazeldeans in chorus. "Ho--ho--ho! Ha--ha--ha!"