Not one of the startled group before him moved a muscle or dropped an eye as he advanced, but gazed upon him like persons under the influence of magnetism. He approached the table, put his lamp upon it, and laid his Bible down beside it. He turned his eyes upon Arthur, and stood with his hands clasped, looking at him as Wilkins still held him drawn back from the table in his chair. Still no eye was turned, no lip moved, not a word was uttered. There was something to awe the stoutest soul in the almost unearthly expression of the boy's face, as he gazed upon his brother with an unutterable hopelessness shining from his eyes. Never, in all his fears for Arthur's erring steps, had Guly thought of this. Never had the idea of gambling crossed his mind; and now, as he saw him engaged in it, his heart seemed to grow cold, and he stood looking at him as if he felt the future was but a wild abyss, into which he must inevitably fall, and near the brink of which he had too closely approached ever to escape. All his hopes, his aspirations, and ambition for that brother fell on the instant from their throne, and, as they vanished, gave back but the one sad echo--"Lost! lost! lost!" Arthur had looked up, and met the light of those sad eyes but for an instant, then dropped his head, and sat, with changing cheek, nervously fingering the cards which, at Quirk's suggestion, he had picked up from the table. The silence which had fallen upon the party was abruptly broken by Quirk, who suddenly bent forward and read the title of the book which Guly had laid upon their card-table. "H--ll!" he muttered between his short teeth; "what the devil did you lay that right in the midst of our cards for? that's no place for it. Who ever heard of cards and Bible keeping company on the same board?" "Had you never neglected the one, you would not now be engaged with the other," returned Guly, speaking in a soft but impressive voice; and turning his eyes for an instant from Arthur to Quirk, but immediately reverting them. Arthur flung his cards upon the table, but without once lifting his eyes. He seemed to feel all that his brother looked, without meeting that full, sad gaze of hopeless sorrow. "Come, now, Arthur," said Guly, at last, laying his small, girlish hand upon his brother's brow; "you are tired and excited. It is late, too--come with me to our own room." Arthur was ashamed to show any heed of his brother's words before his present companions, and he drew his head away from the gentle touch of that kindly hand, and remarked that he would go when he chose--not before; that he was used to late hours, and he'd run the risk of all deleterious effects. "That's it--I like your pluck!" shouted Quirk, too excited by the wine he had drank to heed the presence of the head clerk. "Don't let's be scared out of our rubber by a baby-faced boy, and a big Bible--'hanged if we will."