“A hundred dollars,” said he, “for the watch—fifty more upon the chain.”
“Beautiful!” exclaimed one of the players.
“They’re worth more,” muttered another.
Even in the blazé hearts around that table there were human feelings. There is always a touch of sympathy for him who loses boldly; and an expression of this in favour of the Creole youth could be heard, from time to time, as his money parted from him.
“Yes, that watch and chain are worth more,” said a tall dark-whiskered man, who sat near the end of the table. This remark was made in a firm confident tone of voice, that seemed to command Chorley’s attention.
“I’ll look at it again, if you please?” said he, stretching across the table to D’Hauteville, who still held the watch in his hand.
The latter surrendered it once more to the gambler, who opened the case, and commenced inspecting the interior. It was an elegant watch, and chain also—of the fashion usually worn by ladies. They were worth more than Chorley had offered, though that did not appear to be the opinion of the pork-merchant.
“It’s a good pile o’ money, is a hundred an’ fifty dollars,” drawled he; “a good biggish pile, I reckon. I don’t know much about such fixins meself, but it’s full valley for that ar watch an’ chain, I shed say.”
“Nonsense!” cried several: “two hundred dollars—it’s worth it all. See the jewels!”
Chorley cut short the discussion.