Since the first memorable party at piquet, Mowbray had never hazarded his luck with Lord Etherington, except for trifling stakes; but his conceit led him to suppose that he now fully understood his play, and, agreeably to the practice of those who have habituated themselves to gambling, he had every now and then felt a yearning to try for his revenge. He wished also to be out of Lord Etherington's debt, feeling galled under a sense of pecuniary obligation, which hindered his speaking his mind to him fully upon the subject of his flirtation with Lady Binks, which he justly considered as an insult to his family, considering the footing on which the Earl seemed desirous to stand with Clara Mowbray. From these obligations a favourable evening might free him, and Mowbray was, in fact, indulging in a waking dream to this purpose, when Jekyl interrupted him. His untimely warning only excited a spirit of contradiction, and a determination to show the adviser how little he was qualified to judge of his talents; and in this humour, his ruin, which was the consequence of that afternoon, was far from seeming to be the premeditated, or even the voluntary work of the Earl of Etherington. On the contrary, the victim himself was the first to propose play--deep play--double stakes; while Lord Etherington, on the other hand, often proposed to diminish their game, or to break off entirely; but it was always with an affectation of superiority which only stimulated Mowbray to farther and more desperate risks; and, at last, when Mowbray became his debtor to an overwhelming amount, (his circumstances considered,) the Earl threw down the cards, and declared he should be too late for Lady Penelope's tea-party, to which he was positively engaged. "Will you not give me my revenge?" said Mowbray, taking up the cards, and shuffling them with fierce anxiety. "Not now, Mowbray; we have played too long already--you have lost too much--more than perhaps is convenient for you to pay." Mowbray gnashed his teeth, in spite of his resolution to maintain an exterior, at least, of firmness. "You can take your time, you know," said the Earl; "a note of hand will suit me as well as the money." "No, by G--!" answered Mowbray, "I will not be so taken in a second time--I had better have sold myself to the devil than to your lordship--I have never been my own man since." "These are not very kind expressions, Mowbray," said the Earl; "you _would_ play, and they that will play must expect sometimes to lose"---- "And they who win will expect to be paid," said Mowbray, breaking in. "I know that as well as you, my lord, and you shall be paid--I will pay you--I will pay you, by G--! Do you make any doubt that I will pay you, my lord?" "You look as if you thought of paying me in sharp coin," said Lord Etherington; "and I think that would scarce be consistent with the terms we stand upon towards each other."