'Then you won't mind the stakes being high,' said Uffington. 'As I told you before, it seems to me waste of time to give oneself the trouble of playing with the interchange of a few shillings for the result.'

'O, I am on,' said Lord Forestfield. 'I don't mind particularly what the stakes are--let us say fifty pounds a game; you can raise your interest to what you like by betting on the hand.'

'That will do for me,' said Uffington. Then turning to Madame de Nerval, he said, 'If I had had the good fortune to make madame's acquaintance earlier, I should have asked her to wish me success. Now I have to struggle, not merely against my antagonist's skill, but against the knowledge that your prayers are being preferred in his favour.'

'Come, there is a polite speech for you at last, Mélanie,' said Lord Forestfield. 'Look here, like a good girl; tell one of those fellows to get us a table, and to bring a bottle of champagne and a tankard. I am horribly thirsty, and nothing will satisfy me but a big drink.'

The table was found, and the gentlemen seated themselves, Lord Forestfield having by his side a silver tankard, and at his feet the champagne-bottle in its cooler. Uffington contented himself with a glass of lemonade, which provoked much raillery on the part of his rival.

'You are going in for keeping your head cool, Sir Nugent, I see,' said Lord Forestfield, as he dealt; 'that sort of thing doesn't do for me. I have been so confoundedly bored at that game at whist with those three Frenchmen, though I won their money, that I want something to pick me up. I mark the king. That is not a bad beginning, Sir Nugent; champagne against lemonade any day. Come on.'

'That is owing to the presence of your guardian angel,' said Uffington, pointing to Madame de Nerval, who was standing by Lord Forestfield's side.

'Another compliment for you, Mélanie,' said Lord Forestfield, who was at this moment in high good humour. 'This cold Englishman is coming out--guardian angel, eh? Well, she is a very good girl, I believe,' he continued, tapping Madame de Nerval's hand familiarly. 'They say, don't they, that every man has two guardian angels--one good and one bad--to watch over his life. I have had enough of the bad,' he muttered between his teeth, 'and it is time the luck turned.'

When they fairly settled down to their play it was thought that they were very evenly matched, and that there was but little to choose between them. Lord Forestfield played with some recklessness, but with considerable skill and no small luck; Sir Nugent Uffington's play was cautious and guarded throughout; and so much interest was evoked by the contest, that gradually the other tables were deserted, and the company formed themselves into a circle round the écarté players. A good deal of betting was started, and Lord Forestfield seized every opportunity of backing his own hand to a considerable amount. Uffington, on the other hand, declined to bet, and concentrated his attention on the cards.

The result was that about five in the morning the party broke up; Lord Forestfield rose the conqueror by three games, and the winner of a great many bets. He was as overjoyed at his success as any neophyte, and on bidding Uffington good-night expressed his earnest hope that they should meet again and renew their tournament that evening. Uffington smiled, and declared his perfect readiness; then sauntered home to bed.