“Oh no! a mere nothing: five, or ten pounds, did we say?” inquired Cumberland.
“Just as you like,” replied Oaklands, carelessly.
“Ten pounds, by all means, I should say; five pounds is so shocking small, don't you think? not worth playing for?” said the Captain.
“Ten let it be then,” said Cumberland; and after a few preliminaries they began playing.
I did not understand the game sufficiently to be able to give a detailed account of the various chances of the match, nor would it probably greatly interest the reader were I to do so. Suffice it, then, to state, that, as far as I could judge, Oaklands, disgusted by the vulgar impertinence of the Captain (if Captain he was), thought the whole thing a bore, and played carelessly. The consequence was, that Cumberland won the first two games. This put Oaklands upon his mettle, and he won the third and fourth; the fifth was hardly contested, Oaklands evidently playing as well as he was able, Cumberland also taking pains; but it struck me as singular that, in each game, his play seemed to depend upon that of his adversary. When Oaklands first began Cumberland certainly beat him, but not by many; and, as he became interested, and his play improved, so in the same ratio did Cumberland's keep pace with it. Of course, there might be nothing in this; the same causes that affected the one might influence the other; but the idea having once occurred to me, I determined to watch the proceedings still more closely, in order, if possible, to make up my mind on the point. After a very close contest Oaklands also won the fifth game; in the sixth he missed a difficult stroke, after which he played carelessly, apparently intending to reserve his strength for the final struggle, so that Cumberland won it easily. Each had now won three games, and on the event of the seventh depended the match. Again did Oaklands, who was evidently deeply interested, use his utmost skill, and his play, which certainly was very good, called forth frequent eulogiums from the Captain, who offered to bet unheard-of sums on the certainty of his winning (which, as there was no one in the room at all likely to accept his offer, was a very safe and innocent amusement), and again, pari passu, did Cumberland's skill keep pace with his. After playing neck and neck, till nearly the end of the game, Cumberland gained a slight advantage, which produced the following state of affairs:—It was Oaklands' turn to play, and the balls were placed in such a position, that by a brilliant stroke he might win the game, but it required great skill to do so. If he failed, the chances were so much in Cumberland's favour as to render his success almost a certainty. It was an anxious moment: for my own part, I felt as if I scarcely dared breathe, and could distinctly hear the throbbing of my own heart, while the Captain, after having most liberally offered to bet five hundred pounds to five pence that he did it, remained silent and motionless as a statue, watching the proceedings, with his eye-glass screwed after some mysterious fashion into the corner of his eye. And now, carefully and deliberately, Oaklands pointed his cue—his elbow was drawn back for the stroke—for the last time his eye appeared to measure and calculate the precise spot he must strike to produce the desired effect—when suddenly, and at the exact moment in which the cue struck the ball, a sonorous sneeze from the rat-like billiard-marker resounded through the room; as a necessary consequence, Oaklands gave a slight start and missed his stroke. The confusion that ensued can “better be imagined than described,” as the newspapers always say about the return from Epsom. With an exclamation of anger and disappointment Oaklands turned away from the table, while the Captain began storming at Slipsey, whom he declared himself ready to kick till all was blue, for the trifling remuneration of half a farthing. The marker himself apologised, with great contrition, for his delinquency, which he declared was quite involuntary, at the same time asserting that, to the best of his belief, the gentleman had made his stroke before he sneezed: this Oaklands denied, and appealed to Cumberland for his opinion. After trying in various ways to avoid giving a direct answer, and appealing in his turn to Captain Spicer (who was so intensely positive that the sneeze had preceded the stroke, that he was willing to back his opinion to any amount), Cumberland very unwillingly owned that, if he was forced to say what he thought, he believed Oaklands had made his stroke before the sneeze caused him to start, but that it was a near thing, and he might very possibly be mistaken. This was quite enough for Oaklands, who declared that he was perfectly satisfied, and begged Cumberland to play, which, with some apparent reluctance, he did, and, as was almost a matter of certainty, proved the conqueror.
“'Pon my life, in all my experience, I never knew a gentleman lose a match in such a tremendously unfortunate way,” observed the Captain. “I am certain that if you had not been flurried, Mr. Oaklands, sir, you could have done the trick as clean as a whistle. Allow me to place the balls as they were then—I know how they stood to a nicety—there, that's it to a demi-semi fraction; oblige me, sir, just as a personal favour, by trying the stroke once more.”
Thus invoked, Oaklands approached the table, and, without a moment's deliberation, struck the ball, and succeeded in doing with perfect ease the very thing which a minute before would have won him ten pounds.
"There! I was super-certain you could do it; the match was yours, sir, as safe as the bank, if that wretched little abortion there hadn't made that disgusting noise. Play him again, sir; play him again: Mr. Cumberland's a pretty player, a very pretty player; but you're too strong for him, Mr. Oaklands; it's my firm conviction you're too strong for him.”
“What do you say to giving me my revenge, Cumberland?” asked Oaklands.
“Oh! I can have no possible objection,” replied Cumberland, with the slightest imaginable assumption of superiority in his tone, which annoyed my ear, and which I felt sure would produce the same effect upon Oaklands. The next game Oaklands won; and they continued to play the rest of the afternoon with various success, and for what appeared to me very high stakes. I calculated that, by the time they left off, Oaklands must have lost more than thirty pounds; and yet, in spite of this, to a superficial observer he appeared to be the better player of the two: he certainly made the most brilliant strokes, but he also made blunders, and failed now and then; while Cumberland's score mounted up without one's exactly knowing how; he never seemed to be playing particularly well, and yet there was always something easy for him to do; while, when Oaklands had to play, the balls got into such awkward positions that it appeared as if they were leagued against him.