"I too propose that we leave off," said Bolling; "we will give you your revenge another time."
"I will have it to-day," cried Eugene, springing up and shutting the door. "Not one of you shall stir. Keep your places and play; here is money." He threw a bundle of matches on the table. "Every match stands for a dollar; no stake under. I will pay to-morrow." The game went on; Eugene continued to lose; the matches were scattered in all directions, as by some secret spell. Eugene got another bundle, exclaiming wildly, "We'll reckon when we separate."
Bolling rose and stamped with his chair.
"Whoever leaves the room is a scoundrel!" cried Eugene.
"You are a fool!" said the other, angrily. "It is a shame to take all a comrade's money as we are doing to-day. I have never seen such a thing. If it be Satan's contriving, I will not help him further." He rose and sat apart. Anton joined him. Both looked on in silence at the desperate way in which gold was flung about.
"I too have had enough of it," said the doctor, showing a thick bundle of matches in his hand. "This is a singular evening; since I have known cards, such a case as this has never come within my experience."
Once more Eugene sprang to the side-table where the matches lay, but Bolling seized the whole box and flung them into the street. "Better that they burn our boots than your purse," cried he. Then throwing the cards on the floor, "The game shall cease, I say."
"I will not be dictated to thus," retorted Eugene, in a rage.
Bolling buckled on his sword and laid his hand on the belt. "I will talk to you to-morrow. And now make your reckoning, gentlemen," said he; "we are going to break up."
The counters were thrown on the table, the doctor counting. Eugene gloomily took out his pocket-book, and entered into it the amount of his debt to each. The company retired without any courteous greetings.