pounds? It's took me two
years to save it up--if my old aunt gets wind of it, she'll cut me off
with a shilling: hang me!"--and here Sam, in an agony, tore his fair
hair.

While bewailing his lot in this lamentable strain, his bell was
rung, which signal being answered by a surly "Come in," a tall, very
fashionable gentleman, with a fur coat, and a fierce tuft to his chin,
entered the room. "Pogson my buck, how goes it?" said he, familiarly,
and gave a stare at me: I was making for my hat.

"Don't go," said Sam, rather eagerly; and I sat down again.

The Honorable Mr. Ringwood hummed and ha'd: and, at last, said he wished
to speak to Mr. Pogson on business, in private, if possible.

"There's no secrets betwixt me and my friend," cried Sam.

Mr. Ringwood paused a little:--"An awkward business that of last night,"
at length exclaimed he.

"I believe it WAS an awkward business," said Sam, dryly.

"I really am very sorry for your losses."

"Thank you: and so am I, I can tell you," said Sam.

"You must mind, my good fellow, and not drink; for, when you drink, you
WILL play high: by Gad, you led US in, and not we you."

"I dare say," answered Sam, with something of peevishness; "losses is
losses: there's no use talking about 'em when they're over and paid."

"And paid?" here wonderingly spoke Mr. Ringwood; "why, my dear fel--what
the deuce--has Florval been with you?"

"D---- Florval!" growled Sam, "I've never set eyes on his face since
last night; and never wish to see him again."

"Come, come, enough of this talk; how do you intend to settle the bills
which you gave him last night?"

"Bills I what do you mean?"

"I mean, sir, these bills," said the Honorable Tom, producing two out of
his pocket-book, and looking as stern as a lion. "'I promise to pay, on
demand, to the Baron de Florval, the sum of four hundred pounds. October
20, 1838.' 'Ten days after date I promise to pay the Baron de et caetera
et caetera, one hundred and ninety-eight pounds. Samuel Pogson.' You
didn't say what regiment you were in."

"WHAT!" shouted poor Sam, as from a dream, starting up and looking
preternaturally pale and hideous.

"D---- it, sir, you don't affect ignorance: you don't pretend not to
remember that you signed these bills, for money lost in my rooms: money
LENT to you, by Madame de Florval, at your own request, and lost to her
husband? You don't suppose, sir, that I shall be such an infernal idiot
as to believe you,