The appearance of Delamere at a late hour, unaccompanied, and wearing
upon his countenance an expression in which the captain read aright the
craving for mental and physical excitement, gave him the opportunity for
which he had been looking. McBane was not the man to lose an
opportunity, nor did Delamere require a second invitation. Neither was
it necessary, during the progress of the game, for the captain to press
upon his guest the contents of the decanter which stood upon the table
within convenient reach.
The captain permitted Delamere to win from him several small amounts,
after which he gradually increased the stakes and turned the tables.
Delamere, with every instinct of a gamester, was no more a match for
McBane in self-control than in skill. When the young man had lost all
his money, the captain expressed his entire willingness to accept notes
of hand, for which he happened to have convenient blanks in his
apartment.
When Delamere, flushed with excitement and wine, rose from the gaming
table at two o'clock, he was vaguely conscious that he owed McBane a
considerable sum, but could not have stated how much. His opponent, who
was entirely cool and collected, ran his eye carelessly over the bits of
paper to which Delamere had attached his signature. "Just one thousand
dollars even," he remarked.
The announcement of this total had as sobering an effect upon Delamere
as though he had been suddenly deluged with a shower of cold water.
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