A CARD-TABLE ROMANCE.
One of the city journals recently published the following account of an affair, which occurred some time since, at one of the best-known gaming hells of Broadway. The parties referred to are members of one of the wealthiest and most fashionable families in the city:
For some weeks past, one of the most fashionable Broadway gambling houses had been honored with the presence of a dashing young man, apparently not more than nineteen or twenty years of age. The gentleman gave his name as Dick Harley, and professed to hail from New Orleans. As he displayed a well-filled pocketbook, he was welcomed, of course.
In play he was remarkably lucky, for a time, at least. This attracted additional attention, and not only made him an object of envy, but of jealousy. Many of the most expert resorted to all the known arts of the game in order to pluck the youngster, but were themselves sold.
During all these visits, young Harley appeared to feel an especial interest in one of the visitors, who was known to hold a responsible position in a down-town banking house. This person was nearly always a loser, and his manner plainly told the fact that those losses greatly affected him. He was always uneasy, his eyes inflamed, and his hand trembling, while he would often start to his feet, and walk up and down the apartment, in a manner bordering on frenzy. It soon began to be whispered around that the man was utterly ruined—that there would soon be another bank defalcation sensation, and perhaps a suicide.
[Illustration: Scene in a gambling saloon.]
For some time, young Harley had made efforts to gain the exclusive attention of the bank officer, but had failed to do so. At length, however, he was successful, and the New Orleans buck and the ruined gamester sat down together.
Fortune now appeared to change. Harley had fifty thousand dollars in his possession, which he had won. But he began to lose now, and the bank officer was the winner. The game continued, and still Harley lost. He remained perfectly calm in the mean time, while the winner became even more excited than while he was unfortunate.
At length the fifty thousand dollars changed hands, and the banker asked,
'Shall we continue the game, sir?
'No,' replied Harley.
'But you want a chance for revenge?
'No, I will play no more with you. However, I would like to make one condition.'
'What is it?'
'Step aside with me, and you shall know.'
Harley and the winner stepped a little apart, when the former whispered.
'Sir, your manner has spoken only too plainly that your losses were about to involve you in trouble. Those losses have but just commenced; but if you continue your play, they will soon be very great, and yourself and family will be crushed. You have won sufficient to-night to save your honor, have you not?
'Thank God, yes,' was the earnest reply.
'Then the condition I would make is this: leave this place and never enter it again.'
'I'll do it,' was the almost frantic response, and the banker turned to leave the room.
At the same time, those around had no idea of losing such, an opportunity as now presented itself. That fifty thousand dollars must again change hands. One of the men present advanced, and, laying his hands upon the shoulder of Harley, said:
'Look you, youngster, you are going a little too far. You have won from us largely.'
'Aye, and lost again,' was the calm reply.
'So have we; and you must not stand in the way of our making good that loss.'
'How can I possibly do so?'
'By persuading the winner of your money to play no more.'
'Have I not a right to do it?'
'No.'
'Then I shall assume that right.'
As Harley said this he caught the bank officer by the arm, and led him toward the door. But the little fellow was instantly seized, and hurled to the opposite side of the room, where he fell with considerable violence.
Instantly he sprang to his feet, while his eyes flashed fire. At the same time, he drew a revolver, and exclaimed:
'Stand from that door, or there will be blood shed here.'
On occasions of this kind, revolver generally answers revolver. It was so on this occasion; and Harley received two shots, which sent him reeling upon the carpet. A crimson spot appeared near his temple, and he clutched his breast with his hands.
Of course, there were those present who did not like the idea of murder, and such sprang forward to the aid of the wounded lad. A black wig fell from his head, and then long golden locks were exposed to view. The vest was opened, and the bosom palpitating beneath the spotless linen was that of a woman.
The surprise of all was very great, and none more so than that of the young bank officer, when he discovered in Dick Harley no other than his own sister. She had learned of the gaming, and had followed him in order to save him from ruin. She had succeeded, for no person now attempted to molest her. The wound upon the head was but slight, although it stunned her for a few moments.
She left the house with her brother, and it is not likely that either of them will ever enter it again.