"It is enough to make an atheist of one, this!" the Prince muttered.

"Any bridge?" the newcomer enquired, seating himself at the table and
shuffling one of the packs of cards.

The three men rose to their feet with varying degrees of unwillingness.

"Immelan is too good for us," Sir Daniel grumbled. "He always wins."

"I am lucky," the newcomer admitted, "but I may be your partner; in
which case, you too will win."

"If you are my partner," the Prince declared, "I shall play for five
pounds a hundred. I desire to gamble. London is beginning to weary me."

"Mr. Kingley is a better player, though not so lucky," Immelan
acknowledged, with a little bow.

"Never believe it, with all due respect to our young friend here," Sir
Daniel replied, as he cut a card. "Kingley plays like a man with brain
but without subtlety. In a duel between you two, I would back Immelan
every time."

Kingley took his place at the table with a little gesture of
resignation. He looked across the table to where Immelan sat displaying
the card which he had just cut. The eyes of the two men met. A few
seconds of somewhat significant silence followed. Then Immelan gathered
up the cards.