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Chapter 10 THE EPISODE OF THE GAME OF POKER

Word Count: 4826    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

no more Peter Porter for me, if you please! I'm sick of disguises. Now that we know Colonel Clay is here in America, they serve no go

t (except from hotel clerks), even in t

-bottomed snobbery, registered A1 at Lloyd

oking into the management and control of railways, syndicates, mines, and cattle-ranches. We inquired about everything. And the result of our investigations appeared to be, as Charles further remarked, that the Sabeans who so trou

f the Colonel himself, who must have migrated meanwhile

to yellow fever, then raging in New Orleans, or eaten himself ill, as we nearly did ourselves, on a generous mixture of clam-chowder, terrapin, soft-shelled crabs, Jersey peaches, canvas-backed ducks, Catawba wine, winter cherries, brandy cocktails, strawberry-shortcake, ice-creams, corn-dodger, and a judicious brew commonly known as a Colorado corpse-r

vely, with a weary smile. "Wrengold, at any rate, won't try to

s had fallen to us in pleasant places. On the night we arrived Wrengold gave a small bachelor party in our honour. He knew Sir Charles was travelling without Lady Vandrift, and rightly

lusive old-fashioned New York society as the Gilded Squatter; for he "struck his reef" no more than ten years ago; and he was therefore doubly anxious, after the American style, to be "just dizzy with culture."

he observed to Charles, with a smil

I have not had that honour. We mov

mere literary and Bohemian set in London, while he himself moved on a more exalted plane of peers and politicians. But the Senator, better accustomed to the new-rich point of view, understood Charl

e Lotus Club that afternoon, for the bard had reached New York but the previous evening; so Charles and I were the only visitors who remained to be introduced to him. The lion of the hour was attired in ordinary evening dress, with no foppery of any kind, but he wore in his buttonhole a dainty blue flower whose name I do not know; and as he bowed distantly to Charles, whom he surveyed through his eyeglass, the gleam of a big diamond in the middle of his shirt-front betrayed the fact that the Briar

oint in common. "I'm interested in mines; and I,

that Charles was demolished. I saw that Wrengold, when we went in to dinner, hastily altered the cards that marked their places. He had evidently put Charles at first to sit next th

was most peculiar. He kept quot

iled turkey, sir?

mb," said the poet. "

nator thought the

articular night, then, warmed with the admirable Wrengold champagne-the best made in America-he launched out into a full and embroidered description of the various ways in which Colonel Clay had deceived him. I will not say that he narrated them in full with the same frankness and accuracy that I have shown in these pages; he suppressed not a few of the most amusing details-on no other ground, apparently, than because they happened to tell against himself; and he enlarged a good deal on the surprising cleverness with which several times he had nearly secured his man; but still, making

ish admiration of pluck and adventure! The fellow must really have some good in him, after all. I should

ake the hero of a novel," Charles murmured, wit

Colonel Clay as the hero,"

" Charles answered, growing warm. "You alway

in an icy voice, "than sympathy with the

wriggled. Wrengold tried to change the subje

o a hypocrite. He wrote me such a letter at the end of his last trick-here, positively here, in America." And he procee

to marry you." But when it came to the letter, the poet's eye was upon my brother-in-law. Charles, I must fain admit, garbled the document sadly. Still, even so, some gleam

stirred his soul still?-some remnant of conscience made him shrink from betraying a man who confided in him? I have an idea, myself, that eve

told you you literary men have always

human. Let him that is without sin among us cast the

ditor cut in now and again with a pertinent inquiry or a quaint and sarcastic parallel instance. It was clear he had an eye to future copy. Only Algernon Coleyard sat brooding and silent, with his chin on one hand, and his brow intent, musing and gazing at the embers

" said Charles, speaking o

" asked th

teration," said

sy," the magazi

s to Sir Charles,

afternoon that it was a favourite amusement of his. Now, however, for a while he objected to playing. He was a poor man, he said, and the rest were all rich; why should he throw away the value of a dozen golden sonnets just to add one more pinnacle to the gilded roofs of a millionaire's palace? Besides, he was half-way through with an ode he was inditing to Republican simplicity. The pristine austerity of a democratic senatorial cottage had naturally

uid reluctance, "I'll play, of course. I won't spoil your ev

ked; and when he did-a few pounds-he lost, with singular persistence. He wanted to play for doubloons or sequins, and could with difficulty be induced to condescend to dollars. Charles looked across at him at

I confess it astonished me. (I discovered afterwards he had cribb

for one now. When it comes, you may be

se astonishment he pulled out a roll of notes, and remarked, in a quiet tone, "I have an inspiration now. Half-hearted will do.

his card. The poet turne

red, pretending not to min

et mused, and looked

ved audibly. "Myrtle, and kirtle, and hurtle," he muttered. "They'll do for three. Then there's turtle, meanin

s asked, severely, int

again, and heard something like this: "Not less but more republican than thou, Half-hearted watcher by the Western sea, After lo

interrupted, in

es, and never ceasing from his murmur: "For Freedom's bride to all succeeding tim

oet raked them in with a far-away air, as one who looks at infinity, and asked if he could borr

ointedly. "Will you kindly att

ey as fast as I would like, unless at the same time I am making verses. Whenever I hit upon a good epithet, I back my luck, don't you see? I w

ntinue. Systems were made for fools-and to suit wise men

"For Freedom's bride

cried sharply. We

suing time. First-rate epithet that. I g

t, some won; but the poet had se

austerely nettled voice which he always assumes when he

d?" the host

's inspirations come too pat for my taste. His l

ver, with a small note in an envelope. "For Mr. Cole

y. I could see he was agitated

My wife is dangerously ill-quite a sudden attack. Forgive me,

ightened. His coolness forsook him. He shook hands as in a dream, and rushed downstairs for his dus

an honorary member of the club to-day is not Algernon Coleyard. He's a blatant impostor. There's a tel

outed, aloud. "And once more he's done me. There's n

, and he saw he was discovered. But he was an excellent runner. So was I, weight for age; and I dashed wildly after him. He turned round a corner; it proved to lead nowhere, and lost him time. He darted back again, madly. Delighted

t slip off, which it easily did, the sleeves being new and smoothly silk-lined. The suddenness of the movement threw me completely off my guard, and off my legs as well. I was clinging to the coat and holding him. As t

her pursuers had come up, and I explained my condition to them. Instead of commending me for my zeal in his cause-which had cost me a barked arm a

rd us a clue." And I limped back with it in my hand

d its place was taken by a tag of plain black tape without inscription of any sort. We searched the breast-pocket. A handkerchief, similarly nameless, but of finest cambric. The

through bre

ons for Cloetedorps to-day, and what do you think I read as part of the latest telegram from England? 'Mr. Algernon Coleyard, the famous poet, is lying on his death-bed at his home in Devonshire.'

s a clue. We know two things now: his real name is Paul-w

e had thrust these two things there when he saw me pursuing him

angle towards the wearer's eye-was not a gem at all, but an extremely tiny convex mirror. In a moment I spotted the trick. He held this hand carelessly on the table while my brother-in-law dealt; and when he saw that the suit and number of his own card mirrored in it by means of the squeezers were better than Charles's, he had "an inspiration," and backe

aid, drawing back. He wished to show us that ev

ack your skill is legal; to back your lu

l," I s

ness," said the

out inspiration put me clean off the track. That's the rascal's dodge. He plays the regular conjurer's game of distracting your

he had vanished at once, as usual, into the thin smoke of Manhattan. Not

found "Mary's." The only token of Colonel Clay's presence vouchsafed us in th

a proper effect upon you. As I found you quite obdurate, and as you furthermore persisted in misunderstanding my motives, I determined to read you one more small lesson. It nearly failed; and I confess the accident has affected my nerves a little. I am now about to retire from business altogether, and settle down for life at my place in Surrey. I mean to try just one more small coup; and, when that is finished, Colonel Clay will hang up his sword, like Cincinnatus, and take to farming. You need no longer fear me. I have real

in terrorem. Though even when he has played it, why should I trust his

duced to dressing the part of a known personage I felt he had reached

out fortunes being made by industry and ability," he said. "In life, as at cards

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