“That’s a beautiful watch,” at length Carlton ventured to say.  There was a well disguised indifference in his tones.

“It ought to be,” was the reply of Wilkinson.

“What did it cost you?”

“One hundred and forty dollars.”

“Is it a good time-keeper?”

“First-rate.  It hasn’t varied a minute in six months.”

“Just such a watch as I would like to own.  I’ve had terrible bad luck with watches.”

This was a kind of feeler.

No reply was made by Wilkinson, although an offer to sell trembled on his tongue.  He still kept the watch in his hand, and toyed with the key and chain, as before, in an absent manner.

“Could you be tempted to sell?” finally asked Carlton.

“I don’t know.  Perhaps I might,”—­said Wilkinson.  He drew his breath deeply as he spoke.

“Or, perhaps you would trade?” and Carlton now produced his gold lever.  “Mine is a very good watch, though not so valuable as yours.  It keeps fair time, however.  I paid a hundred dollars for it three or four years ago.”

A mutual examination of watches took place.

“Well—­what do you say to a trade?”

The servant appeared at this juncture, and announced supper.  The two watches were returned to their respective places of deposit, and the two men proceeded to the dining-room.  Here the traffic, just begun, was renewed and completed.  The watches were exchanged, and Wilkinson received sixty dollars “boot.”

“Shall I order the horse brought out?” asked Carlton, as they arose, about half an hour afterwards, from the supper-table.

“Yes; if you please.”

This was not said with much promptness of tone; a fact instantly noted by the ear of Carlton.

“Well, I’m ready.  Come—­let’s have a drink before we go!”

The two men stepped to the bar and drank.  Then they lingered, each with a lighted cigar, and finally withdrew—­to proceed to the city?  No.  To return to their room up-stairs, and renew their unequal contest.  The sixty dollars which Wilkinson had received were staked, and soon passed over to his adversary.  Rendered, now, desperate by his losses and the brandy which inflamed his brain, he borrowed, once more, on his due-bill—­this time to the amount of several hundred dollars.  His ill-success continued.

It was nearly eleven o’clock, when Wilkinson started up from the table, exclaiming, as he threw the cards upon the floor—­

“Fool! fool! fool!  One step more, and I am ruined.  Carlton!” And he fixed his eyes almost fiercely upon his companion.

“Carlton!  I thought you my friend, but find, when it is almost too late to profit by the discovery, that you are a tempter.  Ay! and worse than a tempter.  Pure air and the bright sunshine!  Is this your health for mind and body?  Oh! weak, weak, unstable one that I am!  Poor Mary!” This was said in a low, mournful, and scarcely audible voice.  “Thus has my promise to you vanished into thin air!”