It kept going worse and worse for Nekhliudof. Two hundred and eighty rubles were written up against him. As to Fedotka, he had his own method: he would lose a simple game, but when the stake was doubled, he would win sure.
As for the prince, he sits by and looks on. He sees that the matter is growing serious.
"Enough!"[53] says he, "hold on."
My! they keep increasing the stake.
At last it went so far that Nekhliudof was in for more than five hundred rubles. Fedotka laid down his cue, and said,—
"Aren't you satisfied for to-day? I'm tired," says he.
Yet I knew he was ready to play till dawn of day, provided there was money to be won. Stratagem, of course. And the other was all the more anxious to go on. "Come on! Come on!"
"No,—'pon my honor, I'm tired. Come," says Fedot; "let's go up-stairs; there you shall have your revanche."
Up-stairs with us meant the place where the gentlemen used to play cards. From that very day, Fedotka wound his net round him so that he began to come every day. He would play one or two games of billiards, and then proceed up-stairs,—every day up-stairs.