Irwin repeated with a defiant air—­

“Ten thousand!  I am waiting for your answer, McGregor.”

The adversary remained as calm as before.

“Ten thousand five hundred.”

“Twenty thousand!”

“Are you drunk, Irwin?” whispered the young Lieutenant Temple into the Captain’s ear, from the other side.  But he only glanced round with a furious look.

“Not more than you.  Leave me alone, if you please.”

“Twenty-one thousand,” came the calm response from the other side of the table.

A short, awkward pause followed.  Captain Irwin nervously gnawed his small dark moustache.  Then he raised his slim figure and called out—­

“Fifty thousand!”

Once more the Major considered it his duty to endeavour to stop the game.

“I object,” he said.  “It has been always a rule that the pool cannot be raised by more than a thousand rupees at a time.  This limit has long since been passed.”

A rude, hoarse laugh escaped Irwin’s lips.

“It appears you want to save me, Major.  But I am not in need of any saviour.  If I lose I pay, and I don’t understand why the gentlemen are so concerned on my behalf.”

The Major, who at last saw that all his good endeavours were misplaced, shrugged his shoulders.  Lieutenant Temple, however, thought he had a good idea, and with an apparently unintentional, though violent, movement pushed against the light camp-table, and sent ashtrays, bottles, glasses, and cards flying on the ground.  But he did not gain anything by this, for the two players held their cards firmly in their hands, and did not allow this contretemps to disturb their sangfroid for a single moment.

“Fifty-one,” said McGregor.

“Sixty.”

“Sixty-one.”

“Seventy.”

“Seventy-one.”

“Eighty.”

“Eighty-one.”

“A lakh!” cried Irwin, who was now pale from excitement.

“Really?” asked McGregor calmly, “that is a fine bid.  A lakh—­that is, reckoned at the present rate of exchange, 6,500 pounds sterling.  You will be a wealthy man, Irwin, if you win.  Now, then, I see you.”

With trembling fingers, but with a triumphant look, the Captain laid down his cards.

“Straight flush,” he said hoarsely.

“Yes, a strong hand,” replied the other, smiling.  “But which is your highest card?”

“The king, as you see for yourself.”

“That’s a pity, for I have also, as it happens, a straight flush, but mine is up to the ace.”

Slowly, one after the other, he laid down his cards—­ace of hearts, king of hearts, queen of hearts, knave of hearts, ten of hearts.  One single exclamation of surprise came from the lips of the bystanders.  None of them had ever seen the coincidence of such an extraordinary sequence.

Captain Irwin sat motionless for a moment, fixing his unsteady eyes straight upon his adversary’s cards.  Then he suddenly sprang up with a wild laugh, and left the tent with jingling steps.