'Sir,' he said politely, 'I am grieved indeed to keep a gentleman waiting so long. Let me now release you. I hope, Sir, that the balance will prove in your favour. It pleases me, believe me, that a gentleman should leave my table the winner. So, Sir, thank you. I perceive, Sir, that your good fortune has deserted you for this evening. I trust it is but a temporary cloud. After all it is a trifle--a bagatelle--a mere matter of one hundred and fifty-five guineas--one hundred and fifty-five. Your Honour is not, perhaps, good at figures, but, should you choose to verify----' The other man whose back and shoulders were still the only part of him presented to my view, snatched the paper and looked at it and threw it on the table. 'It is right, Sir?' 'I suppose it is right. The luck was against me, as usual; the luck never is for me.' I knew the voice and started. Madame whispered in my ear softly. 'The greatest surprise of your life.' 'One hundred and fifty-five guineas,' said the gentleman who kept the Bank. 'If you are not able to discharge the liability to-night, Sir, I shall be pleased to wait upon you to-morrow.' 'No! No! I can pay my way still--pay my way,' He pulled out a long purse filled with guineas. 'Your luck will certainly turn, Sir, before long. Why I have seen instances----' 'Damn it, Sir, leave me and my affairs alone. My luck never will turn. Don't I know my own affairs?' The voice could be none other than my cousin Matthew's. I was startled. My head which had been filled with the noise of the music and the excitement of the revelry became clear at once and attentive and serious. My cousin Matthew. Impossible not to know that voice! He poured out the guineas on the table and began to count them, dividing them into heaps of ten. Then he counted them over again, very slowly, and, at last, with greatest reluctance passed them over to the other player, who in his turn counted them over, taking up the pieces and biting them in order to see if they were good. 'I thank you, Sir,' he said, gravely. 'I trust that on a future occasion----' Matthew waved his hand impatiently. The other turned and walked down the room. The candles were mostly out by this time; only two or three were left on the point of expiring: the room was in a kind of twilight. Matthew turned his head--it _was_ my cousin: he seemed not to see us: he sank into a chair and laid his head in his hands groaning. No one was left in the room except Madame, Matthew and myself.