Through the whole night, Fortune seemed to have held nearly an even scale between Elwood and his special adversary Gaut Gurley, contrary to the evident anticipations of the latter and despite all his attempts to secure an advantage. Thus far, however, he had signally failed in his purpose; and, at the last game, Elwood had even won of him the largest sum that had as yet been put at stake between them. This seemed to drive him almost to madness; and in his desperation he loudly demanded that the stakes should be doubled for the next trial. It was done. The game was played, and Gurley was again the loser. “I will now stay no longer,” said Elwood, rising. “I was forced here to-night, as you well know, Gurley, against my will, and against all reason, to stop your clamor for a chance to win back what you absurdly called your money lost at our last sitting; though Heaven knows that what I then won was but a pitiful fraction of the amount you have taken from me, within the last two years, in the same or in a worse way. I have now given you your chance,--yes, chance upon chance, all night,--till your claim has been a dozen times cancelled; and, I repeat, I will stay no longer.” “You shall!” fiercely cried Gurley, with an oath. “You shall stay to give me another chance, or I will brand you as a trickster and a sneak!” “Gentlemen,” said Elwood, turning to the company, in an expostulating tone, “gentlemen, I appeal to you all if I have not----” “I will have no appeal,” interrupted Gurley, in a voice trembling with rage. “I say I _will_ have another chance, or----” “Take it, then,” hastily interposed Elwood, as if unwilling to let the other finish the sentence; “take it: what will you have the stakes?” “Double the last.” “Double?” “Yes, double!” “Have your own way, then,” said Elwood, with forced composure, taking up and shuffling the cards for the important game. The stake was for a thousand; and the trembling antagonists played as if life and death hung on the event. And the whole company, indeed, forgetful of their own comparatively slight interest, in the momentous one thus put at stake, at once turned their eyes on the two players, and watched the result with breathless interest. That result was soon disclosed; when, to the surprise of all, and the dismay of Gaut Gurley, the victory once more strangely fell to the lot of Mark Elwood, who, gathering up the stakes with trembling eagerness, hastily rose from the table, as if to depart. “What in the name of Tophet does all this mean?” fiercely exclaimed Gurley, throwing an angry and suspicious look round the table upon those who had doubtless been, at other sittings, his confederates in fleecing Elwood. “Yes, what is the meaning of this? I ask _you_, and _you_, sir?” “Better ask your own partner,” said one of the men addressed, with a defiant look. “Elwood? Pooh!” exclaimed Gaut, with a bitter sneer.