“No, sir,” said a tall, military-looking man, whose eyes were already bright between the excitement of play and the worship of Bacchus. “It is not good enough to excuse yourself in that way just when luck is on the point of turning. I demand my revenge, and these gentlemen will all agree that I am right, eh?”
There was an immediate chorus of approval from the onlookers to whom the speaker appealed.
“Yes, yes; give him his revenge,” was the cry. “For my part,” added a fast young subaltern, “I think it deuced mean to want to leave off at such a critical time.”
“Nothing of the sort,” shouted a half-tipsy individual, whose outward appearance gave very little indication of the nature of his profession or pursuits. “I consider that Mr. Staines has behaved like a man, and if anybody dares to say otherwise I’ll knock him down.”
The speaker looked big enough and brawny enough to imbue his hearers with the belief that he was quite able to carry out his threat. His utterances were therefore received with something like the respect they merited by all but the fast young sub. already mentioned.
“The proof of the pudding is in the eating,” sneered he; “it will be easy for your friend to prove his fairness by accepting Captain Gale’s challenge to continue playing, and if it comes to knocking people down, why, then, two can play at that game.”
The altercation, although a mere interchange of empty boasts, struck Mr. Bootle as a very violent scene indeed, and it was a great relief when Mr. Staines soothingly spoke to the antagonists, thanking one for his straightforward championship, and assuring the other that he was ready either to play or to go home, just as seemed best to those whose money he had won.
“And,” he added, “if the gentleman who has challenged me for his revenge doubts my fairness, I am ready to return him the money I have won, and to forego the pleasure of a friendly game with him in future.”
“No, no,” was the immediate verdict. “The money was won in fair play, and Captain Gale only wants his revenge.”
So, presently, the game was resumed with increased zest, and small bets as to the results were indulged in, while glasses were emptied and replenished with a beautiful disregard of the probable effects of their contents upon the system. Mr. Bootle had made occasional feints of drinking, but could not help being amused to see how easy it was to substitute an empty glass for his own, without arousing the suspicions of those who profited by the change. The babel of voices, the frequent oaths, the tobacco-laden atmosphere, were all antagonistic to Mr. Bootle’s ideas of comfort. But he, or rather she, would have braved much greater inconveniences than these, rather than forego the slightest chance of benefiting Harley.