been brought. He sought out
his sister-in-law and drew her attention to Lambert in close
conversation with Mrs. Endicott.

"Is everything arranged?" he asked under his breath.

"Everything," she replied.

"No trouble with our henchmen?"

"A little ... but they are submissive now."

"What is the arrangement?"

"Persuade young Lambert to take a hand at primero ... Endicott will do
the rest."

"Who is in the know?" he queried, after a slight pause, during which he
watched his unsuspecting victim with a deep frown of impatience and of
hate.

"Only the Endicotts," she explained. "But do you think that he will
play?" she added, casting an anxious look on her brother-in-law's face.

He nodded affirmatively.

"Yes!" he said curtly. "I can arrange that, as soon as you are ready."

She turned from him and walked to the center table. She watched the game
for a while, noting that young Segrave was still the winner, and that
Lord Walterton was very flushed and excited.

Then she caught Endicott's eye, and immediately lowered her lashes
twice in succession.

"Ventre-saint-gris!" swore Endicott with an unmistakable British accent
in the French expletive, "but I'll play no more.... The bank is broken
... and I have lost too much money. Mr. Segrave there has nearly cleaned
me out and still I cannot break his luck."

He rose abruptly from his chair, even as Mistress de Chavasse quietly
walked away from the table.

But Lord Walterton placed a detaining, though very trembling hand, on
the cinnamon-colored sleeve.

"Nay! parbleu! ye cannot go like this ... good Master Endicott ..." he
said, speaking very thickly, "I want another round or two ... 'pon my
honor I do ... I haven't lost nearly all I meant to lose."

"Ye cannot stop play so abruptly, master," said Segrave, whose eyes
shone with an unnatural glitter, and whose cheeks were covered with a
hectic flush, "ye cannot leave us all in the lurch."

"Nay, I doubt not, my young friend," quoth Endicott gruffly, "that you
would wish to play all night.... You have won all my money and Lord
Walterton's, too."

"And most of mine," added Sir Michael Isherwood ruefully.

"Why should not Master Segrave take the bank," here came in shrill
accents from Mistress Endicott, who throughout her conversation with
Lambert had kept a constant eye on what went on around her husband's
table. "He seems the only moneyed man amongst you all," she added with a
laugh, which grated most u