Some time after, Chevalier was called to account by another gentleman. They met at the appointed hour in Chelsea Fields, when Chevalier said to his adversary—'Pray, sir, for what do we fight?' The gentleman replied—'For honour and reputation.' Thereupon Chevalier pulling a halter out of his pocket, and throwing it between him and his antagonist, exclaimed—'Begar, sir, we only fight for dis one piece of rope—so e'en WIN IT AND WEAR IT.' The effect of this jest was so great on his adversary that swords were put up, and they went home together good friends.

Chevalier continued his sharping courses for about fourteen years, running a reckless race, 'sometimes with much money, sometimes with little, but always as lavish in spending as he was covetous in getting it; until at last King James ascending the throne, the Duke of Monmouth raised a rebellion in the West of England, where, in a skirmish between the Royalists and Rebels, he was shot in the back, and the wound thought to be given by one of his own men, to whom he had always been a most cruel, harsh officer, whilst a captain of the Grenadiers of the Foot Guards. He was sensible himself how he came by this misfortune; for when he was carried to his tent mortally wounded, and the Duke of Albemarle came to visit him, he said to his Grace—'Dis was none of my foe dat shot me in the back.' 'He was none of your friend that shot you,' the duke replied.

So dying within a few hours after, he was interred in a field near Philip Norton Lane, as the old chronicler says—'much UNlamented by all who knew him.'(138)

(138) Lucas, Memoirs of Gamesters and Sharpers.

JOHN HIGDEN.

This gambler, who flourished towards the end of the 17th century, was descended from a very good family in the West of England. In his younger days he was a member of the Honourable Society of the Middle Temple, but his inclinations being incompatible with close study of the law, he soon quitted the inns of court and went into the army. He obtained not only a commission in the first regiment of Boot Guards, but a commission of the peace for the county of Middlesex, in which he continued for three or four years as Justice Higden. He was very great at dice; and one night he and another of his fraternity going to a gaming house, Higden drew a chair and sat down, but as often as the box came to him he passed it, and remained only as a spectator; but at last one of the players said to him pertly, 'Sir, if you won't play, what do you sit there for?' Upon which Higden snatched up the dice-box and said, 'Set me what you will and I'll throw at it.' One of the gentlemen set him two guineas, which he won, and then set him four, which he 'nicked' also. The rest of the gentlemen took the part of the loser, and set to Higden, who, by some art and some good luck, won 120 guineas; and presently, after throwing out, rose from the table and went to his companion by the fireside, who asked him how he durst be so audacious as to play, knowing he had not a shilling in his pocket? One of the losers overhearing what was said, exclaimed, 'How's that—you had no money when you began to play?' 'That's no matter,' replied Higden, 'I have enough NOW; and if you had won of me, you must have been contented to have kicked, buffeted, or pumped me, and you would have done it as long as you liked. Besides, sir, I am a soldier, and have often faced the mouths of thundering cannons for EIGHT SHILLINGS A DAY, and do you think I would not hazard the tossing of a blanket for the money I have won to-night?'

'All the parties wondered at his confidence, but he laughed heartily at their folly and his good fortune, and so marched off with a light heart and a heavy purse.' Afterwards, 'to make himself as miserable as he could, he turned poet, went to Ireland, published a play or two, and shortly after he died very poor, in 1703.'(139)

(139) ubi supra.

MONSIEUR GERMAIN.

This gambler was of low birth, his parents keeping an ordinary in Holland, where he was born, as stated by the old chronicler, 'in the happy Revolution of 1688.'