Chapter Twenty Three.
Tom Candlish Plays Badly.
Squire Luke Candlish looked flushed and angry, as he stood facing his brother in the billiard-room, over the dining-room, at the Hall. Dinner had been ended an hour, and in company with his brother he had partaken of enough wine for three ordinary men, after which they had gone upstairs to smoke and play two or three games.
Tom Candlish played horribly that night. The strokes he made were vile; and so transparent were some of his blunders that any one but Squire Luke would have seen and asked what it meant.
Squire Luke only chuckled and smoked, and spilled the cigar-ash over the green cloth and played; but played more vilely than his brother, with the result that, in spite of all his efforts, Tom won game after game.
It was very awkward, for Tom had a request to make, and unless he could get his brother in a good temper, the request would certainly be in vain.
He made misses and his brother scored one each time. Then went straight into the pocket without touching a ball; and his opponent scored three; but directly afterwards, when his turn came round, the balls seemed as if they would make cannons and winning and losing hazards, so that his score kept rising, and Squire Luke raved.
Tom won every game, and his brother grew more silent, till quite in despair at the failure of his plan to put the squire in a good temper, Tom blurted out his business. He wanted a hundred pounds.
“I should think you do want a hundred pounds!” said the squire coolly; “say two.”