“Depend on 't, you'll have better fortune after supper. Come and have a glass of champagne.”
I was now impatient until we were again at the card-table.
All my former intentions were reversed, and I would have given my right hand to have been able to repay my debt to him ere I said “Good night.” Perhaps he read what was passing within me; I almost suspect that he construed aright the restless anxiety that now beset me; for he whispered, as we went back to the drawing-room,—
“You are evidently out of luck. Wait for your revenge on another evening.”
“Now or never,” said I. And so was it in reality. I had secretly determined within myself to try and win back O'Kelly's losses, and if I failed, at once to stand forward and declare myself in my real character. No false shame, no real dread of the ignominy to which I should expose myself should prevent me; and with an oath to my own heart I ratified this compact.
Again we took our places; the stakes were now doubled; and all the excitement of mind was added to the gambler's infatuation. Colonel Canthorpe, who had been for some minutes occupied with his note-book, at last tore out the leaf he had been writing on, and handed it to me, saying,—
“Is that correct?”
The figures were six hundred and fifty,—the amount of my loss.
I simply nodded an assent, and said,—
“We go on, I suppose?”