"Nay now, what things, good Dicon? I pray you tell me," spoke Grey, as he drained at one draught the ice-cold water, and drew a long breath of relief. "I feel like a man waking from a strange and fevered dream; for, in sooth, I know but little of what has been passing these last days. Some strange madness seems to have possessed me. I had meant to say farewell to Lord Sandford and his world, and seek mine own fortunes in some other field. Yet methinks I have not made the break. I have visions of wild orgies and furious gaming—such as I held aloof from before. Dicon, I fear me I have made a desperate fool of myself, and of my fortunes too. Tell me, what money have I with me now?"
"Not much, master. I took what you had—a matter of some twenty guineas perhaps. I have it safe in a bag. But surely that is not all. You had won a fortune, you did tell me—"
"Ay, and now I have lost it. I can recollect how the guineas flew, and how the stakes were doubled, and how I lost again and yet again. I take it I am a ruined man, good Dicon. These twenty guineas saved from the wreck are all the fortune I possess, and belike it is better so—better so."
"Better!" echoed the dismayed Dick; "nay, my master. But you will win it back again. The luck cannot always be against you. Think how it was at the first!"
"Yes, Dicon, and perchance it had been better had the luck been worse. I love not such gains as these. Besides, there is somewhat in this beyond my ken. Lord Sandford desired my friendship and company then, and luck was with me. Now that he desires it no more, the luck has changed, and that so strangely and desperately that one might almost say there was magic in it."
Dick's jaw dropped; he longed to know more, but feared to intrude too much upon his master's secrets. Grey, however, knew how faithful and attached was his stanch henchman, and as he went through his morning toilet he told him a little of the events of the past three days, in as far as he himself could remember them.
"I have offended Lord Sandford doubly," he said, "though he will not openly admit it. But I know—I feel the change. I trow that he is my enemy. Nay, Dicon, look not so aghast; it will matter little in the future, since to-day I take my leave of him, and most like in this great whirling world our paths will not again cross, either for weal or woe."
"But how?—what? He did seem to love you well."
"I think he did; but a mischance befell. He did not tell me of his troth-plight to a fair lady—a lady of surpassing beauty, and of a virtue and purity which make her like a bright particular star amid the painted dames and mincing damsels of this giddy London town. Twice or thrice did I meet her and pay homage to her wondrous beauty and goodness. It was words she spoke to me that decided me, ere ever any ill-blood had been aroused, to leave off from this life of pleasure-seeking and distraction, and seek a nobler career than that of the butterfly dandy fluttering round the town. But Lord Sandford thought that there was somewhat more than this betwixt us. Of that I am assured. A flame of jealousy swept over him; and when I told him of my resolution, I trow that his suspicions received confirmation. I did not see it then, but I see it now. He thought I left him to pursue my ends alone, and, perchance, to seek to win the lady of his choice. But he spoke nothing of this—only insisted that for this week my engagements should be kept, and that after to-day's race I might go my own way, an I was so resolved. He was not unkindly; yet there was something strange and stern in his bearing and language, and you have seen how his imperious temper and will sweep all before them. I myself was strangely dazed and something sorrowful. I scarce do know why my heart was so heavy within me. I let him have his way; and you behold what that way has been. I am a ruined man, beggared of all my winnings; and methinks my Lord Sandford has plotted for this very thing."
"It is a shame! Would I could take my horsewhip to him—"