And both these all-pervading facts combined to force him against his will into this anomalous position of gentlemanly gambler, which suited neither his temperament nor his principles.

With it all Lambert’s was one of those dispositions, often peculiar to those who have led an isolated and introspective life, which never do anything half-heartedly; and just as he took his somewhat empty secretarial duties seriously, so did he look on this self-imposed task, against which his better judgment rebelled, with earnestness and determination.

He listened attentively to the preliminary explanations given him sotto voce by Endicott.  Segrave in the meanwhile had taken the latter’s place at the head of the table.  He had put all his money in front of him, some two hundred and sixty pounds all told, for his winnings during the last half hour had not been as steady as heretofore, and he had not yet succeeded altogether in making up that sum of money for which he yearned with all the intensity of a disturbed conscience, eager to redeem one miserable fault by another hardly more avowable.

He shuffled the cards and dealt just as Endicott had done.

“Now will you look at your card, young sir,” said Endicott, who stood behind Lambert’s chair, whispering directions in his ear.  “A splendid card, begad! and one on which you must stake freely....  Nay! nay! that is not enough,” he added, hurriedly restraining the young man’s hand, who had timidly pushed a few silver coins forward. “’Tis thus you must do!”

And before Lambert had time to protest the rotund man in the cinnamon doublet and the wide lace cuffs, had emptied the contents of the little leather wallet upon the table.

Five golden guineas rested on Lambert’s card.  Segrave turned up his own and declared: 

“I pay queen and upwards!”

“A two, by gad!” said Lord Walterton, too confused in his feeble head now to display any real fury.  “Did anyone ever see such accursed luck?”

“And look at this nine,” quoth Sir Michael, who had become very sullen; “not a card to-night!”

“I have a king,” said Lambert quietly.

“And as I had the pleasure to remark before, my dear young friend,” said Endicott blandly, “’tis a mighty good card to hold....  And see,” he continued, as Segrave without comment added five more golden guineas to Lambert’s little hoard, “see how wise it was to stake a goodly sum ...  That is the whole art of the game of primero ... to know just what to stake on each card in accordance with its value and the law of averages....  But you will learn in time, young man you will learn....”

“The game doth not appear to be vastly complicated,” assented Lambert lightly.

“I have played primero on a system for years ...” quoth Lord Walterton sententiously, “but to-night ... hic ... by Gad! ...  I cannot make the system work right ... hic!”

But already Segrave was dealing again.  Lambert staked more coolly now.  In his mind he had already set aside the original five guineas which came from his grandmother.  With strange ease and through no merit of his own, yet perfectly straightforwardly and honestly, he had become the owner of another five; these he felt more justified in risking on the hazard of the game.