“He did so, and I refused. I shall not readily forget the sweet, sad smile of the King as he tapped the wily courtier on the shoulder, and said, 'Ah! Monsieur le Duc, do you only value your King when you've lost him?' They were prophetic words! Well, well! we 've got upon a sorrowful theme; let's change it.” “Here are the cards, at last,” said the Knight, taking a sealed packet from the waiter's hand, and breaking it open on the table. “Now, Heffernan, order me a glass of claret negus, and take care that no one comes to worry us with news of the House.” “It's a sugar bill, or a new clause in the Corporation Act, or something of that kind, they 're working at,” said Lord Drogheda, negligently. “No, my Lord,” interposed Heffernan, slyly, “it's a bill to permit your Lordship's nephew to hold the living of Ardragh with his deanery.” “All right and proper,” said his Lordship, endeavoring to hide a rising flush on his cheek by an opportune laugh. “Tom is a capital fellow, and a good parson too.” “And ought never to omit the prayer for the Parliament!” muttered Heffernan, loud enough to be heard by the bystanders, who relished the allusion heartily. “The deal is with you, Knight,” said Lord Drogheda, pushing the cards across the table. The moment afterwards, a pin could not have fallen unheard in that crowded assembly. Even they who were not themselves bettors felt the deepest interest in the game where the stake was so great, and all who could set value on skill and address were curious to watch the progress of the contest. Not a word was spoken on either side as the cards fell upon the table, and although many of the bystanders displayed looks of more eager anxiety, the players showed by their intentness how strenuously each struggled for the victory. After the lapse of about half an hour, a low, murmuring noise spread through the room, and the news was circulated that the first game was over, and the Knight was the winner. The players, however, were silent as before, and the deal went over without a word. “One moment, my Lord,” said Darcy, as he gently interposed his hand to prevent Lord Drogheda taking up his cards,--“a single moment. You will call me faint-hearted for it, but I do not care. I beseech you, let the party cease here. It is a great favor; but as I could not ask it if I had lost the game, give me, I pray, so much of advantage for my good luck.” “You forget, Knight, that I, as a loser, could not accede to your proposal; what would be said of any man who, with such a stake at issue, accepted an offer like this?” “My dear Lord, don't you think that you and I might afford to have our actions canvassed, and yet be very little afraid of criticism?” said Darcy, proudly. “No, no, my dear Darcy, I really could not do this; besides, you must concede something to mortified vanity. Now, I am anxious to have my revenge.” “Be it so, my Lord,” said the Knight, with a sigh, and the game began.