“I was present at the time, and remember the circumstance perfectly. The King was leaning over the Duke's chair, watching the game—”
“Quite true. The Duke affected not to know that his Majesty was there, and when he placed the box on the table, cried, 'A thousand louis against the portrait of the King!' There was no declining such a wager at such a moment, although, intrinsically, the box was not worth half the sum. I accepted, and won it.”
“And the Duke then offered to give you twice the money for it back again?”
“He did so, and I refused. I shall not readily forget the sweet, sad smile of the King as he tapped the wily courtier on the shoulder, and said, 'Ah! Monsieur le Duc, do you only value your King when you've lost him?' They were prophetic words! Well, well! we 've got upon a sorrowful theme; let's change it.”
“Here are the cards, at last,” said the Knight, taking a sealed packet from the waiter's hand, and breaking it open on the table. “Now, Heffernan, order me a glass of claret negus, and take care that no one comes to worry us with news of the House.”
“It's a sugar bill, or a new clause in the Corporation Act, or something of that kind, they 're working at,” said Lord Drogheda, negligently.
“No, my Lord,” interposed Heffernan, slyly, “it's a bill to permit your Lordship's nephew to hold the living of Ardragh with his deanery.”
“All right and proper,” said his Lordship, endeavoring to hide a rising flush on his cheek by an opportune laugh. “Tom is a capital fellow, and a good parson too.”
“And ought never to omit the prayer for the Parliament!” muttered Heffernan, loud enough to be heard by the bystanders, who relished the allusion heartily.
“The deal is with you, Knight,” said Lord Drogheda, pushing the cards across the table.