McGregor held out his hand.
“You would place me under a great obligation, Mr. Heideck, if you could succeed in this matter, but I warn you that there is no time to lose.”
Heideck quickly left the tent, but when he had come out into the delicious moonlight night the first thing that met his eye was Captain Irwin, some twenty yards distant, standing by his horse. The servant held the animal by the bridle, and Captain Irwin was about to mount. On coming nearer he saw the servant move off and perceived that Irwin held a revolver in his hand. With a quick motion he seized the officer’s wrist.
“One moment, Captain Irwin.”
Irwin started, turned round, and looked with fury at Heideck.
“I beg your pardon,” said the German, “but you are labouring under a mistake, Captain. The game was all a jest; they were playing a trick upon you. The cards were arranged beforehand.”
Irwin made no reply, but whistled to his servant and went back into the tent, revolver still in hand, without a single word to Heideck. Heideck followed. Both gentlemen stepped up to the card-table, and Irwin turned to McGregor.
“You tell me the game was all a got-up thing, do you?” he asked.
“As a lesson to you, Irwin—you who always plunge as a madman, and imagine yourself a good player, when you have not the necessary cold blood for gambling.”
“Well,” said Irwin, “that is a story that I will take care goes the round of all the garrisons in India, as an instance of kind comrade-like feeling, so that everyone may be warned against coming along here and being induced to take a hand. I never in my life came across a more despicable story; but it certainly is a lesson for me, that only honourable persons should be—”