distinguished appearance, in conjunction with his amiable and thoroughly gentlemanly bearing, that had so quickly opened the usually very exclusive officers’ circle to the young German, with his clever, energetic features, and his honest blue eyes. Judged by his profession he did not, perhaps, belong to their society, according to the ideas of some of these gentlemen. It was known that he was travelling for a large commercial house in Hamburg. His uncle, the head of the house, imported indigo. And since the Maharajah of Chanidigot was the owner of very extensive indigo fields, young Heideck had been detained here a whole fortnight by commercial negotiations with the prince. He had succeeded, during this time, in gaining the lively sympathies of all, but particularly of the older British officers. In Indian garrisons every European is welcome. Heideck was also invited to those social functions at which the ladies of the regiment were present. He had always refused an invitation to cards with polite firmness, and to-day also he was at most an uninterested and unconcerned spectator. Presently the door of the tent opened and a tall, but extremely slim officer joined the circle of his comrades, jingling his spurs with a self-conscious, almost haughty attitude. He was in undress uniform and talked to one of the gentlemen, who addressed him as Captain Irwin, about just returning from a fatiguing ride for the inspection of an outpost. He demanded from one of the orderlies in attendance a refreshing drink, the favourite whisky-and-soda, then he drew close to the gaming-table. “Room for a little one?” he asked. And place was readily made for him. For a little while the game of poker went on in the same quiet way as before. But suddenly something extraordinary must have happened. All the gentlemen, except Captain Irwin and one of the players, laid down their cards, and the unpleasantly penetrating voice of Captain Irwin was heard. “You are an old fox, Captain McGregor! But I am aware of your tricks and cannot be taken in by them. Therefore, once more, six hundred rupees!” Every poker-player knows that, so far from being considered dishonourable, it is a chief sign of skill in the game, where each man plays for his own hand, for one to deceive the rest as to the value of the cards he holds. The name of “bluff,” which has been given to this game, is itself sufficient to show that everyone has to try his best to puzzle his adversaries. But this time Irwin appeared to have met his match in McGregor. For the Captain replied calmly: “Six hundred and fifty. But I advise you not to see me, Irwin.” “Seven hundred.” “Seven hundred and fifty.” “Thousand!” shouted Irwin with resounding voice, and leant back in his chair smiling, as if certain of victory. “You had better consider what you are about,” said McGregor. “I have given you warning.” “A convenient way to haul in seven hundred and fifty rupees. I repeat: A thousand rupees.”