"Don't touch it!" warned Hillard.
"What is it, head or tail?" asked Merrihew weakly.
"Heads, sir," said the attendant, picking up the coin and offering it to the owner.
"Keep it," said Merrihew generously, even sadly. He never got up a game of chance that he did not get the worst of it. And now, Italy! All that way from home! "Boy, bring up a bottle of '96."
"Dan!"
"You be still," said Merrihew savagely. "You've roped me in nicely, and I'm game to go; but I'll have that bottle if I have to drink it all alone."
But he did not drink it all alone. Hillard was too wise to permit that. Merrihew might wish to add a few hundred to his letter of credit, via the card-room.
"And the Lady in the Mask?" asked Merrihew, as they at length stood up, preparatory to going down-stairs.
"I must relegate her to the fog she came out of. But it would be a frightful thing if—if—" He hesitated to form the words.
But Merrihew had no such scruple. "If the silver and plate were missing when the Sandfords return?"