"Fool! idiot!" he ejaculated, starting from his seat: "bring me a tumbler—a large tumbler full of claret; my mouth is as parched as h—l, and my stomach is like a lime-kiln."
The waiter hastened to comply with the wishes of the young gambler. The tumbler of claret was supplied; and the game continued.
Still the officer lost.
"A cigar!" he shouted, in a fearful state of excitement—"bring me a cigar!"
The waiter handed him a box of choice Havannahs, that he might make his selection.
"Why the devil don't you bring a light at the same time, you d—d infernal rascal?" cried the gamester; and while the domestic hastened to supply this demand also, he poured a volley of most horrible oaths at the bewildered wretch's head.
Again the play proceeded.
And again the young officer lost.
His pile of gold was gone: the Croupier who kept the bank changed one of his remaining notes.
"That makes three thousand that I have lost already, by G—d!" ejaculated the young officer.