The wretched young man persistently exercises his right of crying "Banco," and so practically going double or quits each time. But "the cards never forgive," and as a rule Dame Fortune is relentless to the reckless player. Three more _coups_ are played, each of which the banker, that is to say Haggard, wins. At the end of the third _coup_, Lamb loses, at a single blow, nearly three thousand pounds; he calls the steward to his side, a short whispered conversation takes place. "Five thousand nine hundred and twenty pounds in the bank." Again the young fellow repeats his fatal "Banco," as he stakes a fresh pile of notes handed to him by the obsequious Jew. Again he loses. Haggard has won, of him alone, eleven thousand pounds. Nobody feels inclined to go on; every one is rather scandalized, for it is apparent to all that the boy has become suddenly, thoroughly intoxicated. "Damned shame, I call it," growled old General Pepper, who in his heart envied Haggard his luck. "Why, the man's drunk, beastly drunk, sir." Haggard rises, glaring at old Pepper in a menacing manner. "Am I to regard your remark as any insinuation upon me, General Pepper?" he said fiercely. "I say it's a damned shame," repeated the veteran. The hubbub became general. What was to be done? Of course, there would be a scandal, but in the eyes of most men at the Pandemonium Club, Haggard was not to be blamed, he was merely to be envied. Probably the real fact was that the weak young fellow was suddenly carried off his legs by the repeated draughts of the fiery cordial, the effect of which only became apparent to the on-lookers after the final bet had been made and the game had recommenced. Who shall cast a stone, then, at Haggard? He merely backed his luck, as the saying is. There was nothing unfair about the matter. But the nasty part of the whole thing was, that Haggard had won eleven thousand pounds from a weak-headed boy. The society newspapers for the week alluded to the matter in veiled, but unmistakable terms. And when Haggard announced to his friend Spunyarn his intention of returning to America, to realize his property, on the termination of his wedding tour, the young lord acquiesced in that decision, casually remarking, "It would be as well if you fought shy a bit, you know, old man, for I am heartily sick of being bothered about the baccarat matter, and of looking in the paper to see if that young prig Lamb has hung himself. Ta ta, you lucky beggar. I shall be to the fore at your diggings to-morrow, in the regulation shiny boots." They parted. Next day Reginald Haggard was to lead Georgina Warrender to the altar, and Spunyarn's allusion to shiny boots merely referred to the fact that he was to be his friend Haggard's best man. CHAPTER VI. GEORGIE'S WEDDING.