It was about ten o'clock that evening, after the officers had left the mess-room, that one of the subalterns sauntered up to Lacey's quarters, where he found the latter waiting for his guests. "Cigarette?" said Lacey. "Thanks!" replied the young officer. "Light?" continued Lacey. "Thanks!" said the guest; and they two sat smoking in silence, for Lacey's thoughts were upon Dick Smithson, and upon the night of the ball and the gallantry which had saved the lives of both him and his betrothed. They did not wait long, for, before their cigarettes were finished, Mark Frayne knocked at the door, and was admitted by Jerry, who stood back for him to enter, looking very quiet, and then noting that Mark gave a start, but took no further notice of Draycott's old servant, entering the room, to be frankly welcomed. Five minutes later a brother-officer of Mark arrived, and before long, at the latter's suggestion, the card-table was sought, and the game went on for a couple of hours in a very quiet, natural way. Then came an interval for refreshments, and a little chat that was far from lively. After this the play was resumed, with Jerry seated in the outer lobby, thinking over the state of affairs. "She ought to be told of it, and try to stop him," he said to himself. "He's a baby at cards, and that Mark Frayne fleeces him as hard as ever he can. I wish something would happen." Then he thought of Richard's disappearance, and of how glad Mark would be when he found that his cousin had gone, unless Dick had gone up to town to consult with some lawyer, who might perhaps put him in the way of regaining his rights. "How could he have been such a young donkey to do as he did?" muttered Jerry; and then, feeling exceedingly drowsy, he refreshed himself with a cup of strong coffee to make him wakeful. After about another hour he took in some of the hot coffee, and saw that the last new pack of cards had been opened and the wrapper tossed upon the floor; while the players looked hollow-cheeked and pale, too intent upon their game to care for the refreshment, and impatiently bidding him be off. "It's a bad complaint that men ketches--that gambling," said Jerry; "and when they've got it, they gives it to others, who have it worse. I've no call to talk, for I've been bad enough. How precious white and seedy young Mark looks! Anyone would think he had been up to some game of his own. Every time I opened the door he give quite a jump in his chair, and, though he laughed it off, he's as nervous as nerves. Wants to win, I s'pose."