"This will never do,” said Oaklands to me, as, for the third time, we were obliged to turn round and cover our eyes, to avoid being blinded by the cloud of dust which a strong east wind was driving directly in our faces; “there is nothing in the world tires one like walking against a high wind. A quarter to three,” added he, taking out his watch. “I have an appointment at three o'clock. Will you walk with me? I must turn up here.”
I assented; and, turning a corner, we proceeded up a narrow street, where the houses, in a great measure, protected us from the wind. After walking some little distance in silence Oaklands again addressed me:—
“Frank, did you ever play at billiards?”
I replied in the negative.
“It's a game I've rather a liking for,” continued he; “we have a table at Heathfield, and my father and I often played when the weather was too bad to get out. I used to beat the old gentleman easily though at last, till I found out one day he did not half like it, so then I was obliged to make shocking mistakes, every now and then, to give him a chance of winning; anybody else would have found me out in a minute, for I am the worst hand in the world at playing the hypocrite, but my father is the most unsuspicious creature breathing. Oh! he is such a dear old man. You must come and stay with us, Frank, and learn to know him and love him—he'd delight in you—you are just the sort of fellow he likes.”
“There's nothing I should like better,” answered I, “if I can get leave from head-quarters; but why did you want to know if I played at billiards?”
“Oh, I have been playing a good deal lately with Cumberland, who seems very fond of the game, and I'm going to meet him at the rooms in F——Street to-day; so I thought, if you knew anything of the game, you might like to come with me.”
“Cumberland is a first-rate player, isn't he?” asked I.
“No, I do not think so: we play very evenly, I should say; but we are to have a regular match to-day, to decide which is the best player.”
“Do you play for money?”