now and then the tinkle of ice, or the popping of soda
bottles. Sharp cords and flaccid folds in Wutzler's neck, Chantel's
brown cheeks, the point of Heywood's resolute chin, shone wet and
polished in the lamplight. All four men scowled pugnaciously, even the
pale Nesbit, who was winning. Bad temper filled the air, as palpable as
the heat and stink of the burning oil.

Only Heywood maintained a febrile gayety, interrupting the game
perversely, stirring old Wutzler to incoherent speech.

"What's that about Rome?" he asked. "You were saying?"

"Rome is safed!" cried the outcast, with sudden enthusiasm. "In your
paper _Tit-bit_, I read. How dey climb der walls op, yes, but Rome is
safed by a flook of geeze. Gracious me, der History iss great sopjeck!
I lern moch.--But iss Rome yet a fortify town?"

Chantel rapped out a Parisian oath.

"Do we play cards," he cried sourly, "or listen to the chatter of
senility?"

Heywood held to the previous question.

"No, Wutz, that town's no longer fortified," he answered slowly. "Geese
live there, still, as in--many other places."

Dr. Chantel examined his finger-tips as though for some defect; then,
snatching up the cards, shuffled and dealt with intense precision. The
game went on as before.

"I read alzo," stammered Wutzler, like a timid scholar encouraged to
lecture, "I read zo how your Englishman, Rawf Ralli, he spreadt der fine
clock for your Queen, and lern your Queen smoking, no?" He mopped his
lean throat with the back of his hand. "In Bengal are dere Rallis. Dey
handle jute."

"Yes?" Heywood smiled a weary indulgence. Next instant he whirled on
Rudolph in fury.--"Is this a game, or Idiot's Joy?"

"I'm playing my best," explained Rudolph, sulkily.

"Then your best is the worst I ever saw! Better learn, before sitting
in!"

Chantel laughed, without merriment; Rudolph flung down his cards,
stalked to the window, and stood looking out, in lonely, impotent rage.
A long time passed, marked by alarming snores from the billiard-table.
The half-naked watchers played on, in ferocious silence. The night wore
along without relief.

Hours might have lapsed, when Dr. Chantel broke out as though the talk
had but paused a moment.

"So it goes!" he sneered. "Fools will always sit in, when they do not
know. They rush into the water, also, and play the hero!"

Again his laughter was brief but malignant. Heywood had left his cards,
risen, and crossing the room, stood looking o