Sewell was a skilled player; but the race is no more to the swift in cards than in anything else,--he lost, and lost heavily. He undervalued his adversaries too, and, in consequence, he followed up his bad luck by increased wagers. Cave tried to moderate the ardor he displayed, and even remonstrated with him on the sums they were staking, which, he good-humoredly remarked, were far above his own pretensions; but Sewell resented the advice, and replied with a coarse insinuation about winners' counsels. The ill-luck continued, and Sewell's peevishness and ill-temper increased with every game. “What have I lost to you?” cried he, abruptly, to Cave; “it jars on my nerves every time you take out that cursed memorandum, so that all I can do is not to fling it into the fire.” “I'm sure I wish you would, or that you would let me do it,” said Cave, quietly. “How much is it?--not short of three hundred, I'll be bound.” “It is upwards of five hundred,” said Cave, handing the book across the table. “You'll have to wait for it, I promise you. You must give me time, for I am in all sorts of messes just now.” While Cave assured him that there was no question of pressing for payment,--to take his own perfect convenience,--Sewell, not heeding him, went on: “This confounded place has cost me a pot of money. My wife, too, knows how to scatter her five-pound notes; in short, we are a wasteful lot. Shall we have one rubber more, eh?” “As you like. I am at your orders.” “Let us say double or quits, then, for the whole sum.” Cave made no reply, and seemed not to know how to answer. “Of course, if you object,” said Sewell, pushing back his chair from the table, as though about to rise, “there's no more to be said.” “What do _you_ say, Houghton?” asked Cave. “Houghton has nothing to say to it; _he_ hasn't won twenty pounds from me,” said Sewell, fiercely. “Whatever you like, then,” said Cave, in a tone in which it was easy to see irritation was with difficulty kept under, and the game began. The game began in deep silence. The restrained temper of the players and the heavy sum together impressed them, and not a word was dropped. The cards fell upon the table with a clear, sharp sound, and the clink of the counters resounded through the room, the only noises there. As they played, the company from the billiard-room poured in and drew around the whist-table, at first noisily enough; but seeing the deep preoccupation of the players, their steadfast looks, their intense eagerness, made more striking by their silence, they gradually lowered their voices, and at last only spoke in whispers and rarely. The first game of the rubber had been contested trick by trick, but ended by Cave winning it. The second game was won by Sewell, and the third opened with his deal.