The gentleman bowed, and appeared quite satisfied.
Major Carbonnell’s partner paid me one hundred
and forty pounds, which I put in my pocket-book, and
we quitted the club.
We fund our winnings,
and consider to refund, a work of
supererogation—In
looking after my father, I obey the old adage,
“Follow your nose.”
As soon as we were in the street, I commenced an inquiry
as to the Major’s motives. “Not one
word, my dear fellow, until we are at home,”
replied he. As soon as we arrived, he threw himself
in a chair, and crossing his legs, commenced:
“You observe, Newland, that I am very careful
that you should do nothing to injure your character.
As for my own, all the honesty in the world will not
redeem it; nothing but a peerage will ever set me
right again in this world, and a coronet will cover
a multitude of sins. I have thought it my duty
to add something to our finances, and intend to add
very considerably to them before we leave Cheltenham.
You have won one hundred and twenty-eight pounds.”
“Yes,” replied I; “but you have
lost it.”
“Granted; but, as in most cases, I never mean
to pay my losses, you see that it must be a
winning speculation as long as we play against each
other.”
“I perceive,” replied I; “but am
not I a confederate?”
“No; you paid when you lost, and took your money
when you won. Leave me to settle my own debts
of honour.”
“But you will meet him again to-morrow night.”
“Yes, and I will tell you why. I never
thought it possible that we could have met two such
bad players at the club. We must now play against
them, and we must win in the long run: by which
means I shall pay off the debt I owe him, and you
will win and pocket money.”
“Ah,” replied I, “if you mean to
allow him a chance for his money, I have no objection—that
will be all fair.”
“Depend upon it, Newland, when I know that people
play as badly as they do, I will not refuse them;
but when we sit down with others, it must be as it
was before—we must play against each other,
and I shall owe the money. I told the fellow
that I never would pay him.”
“Yes; but he thought you were only joking.”
“That is his fault—I was in earnest.
I could not have managed this had it not been that
you are known to be a young man of ten thousand pounds
per annum, and supposed to be my dupe. I tell
you so candidly; and now good-night.”
I turned the affair over in my mind as I undressed—it
was not honest—but I paid when I lost,
and I only took the money when I won,—still
I did not like it; but the bank notes caught my eye
as they lay on the table, and—I was satisfied.
Alas! how easy are scruples removed when we want money!
How many are there who, when in a state of prosperity
and affluence, when not tried by temptation, would
