the "glad eye" as any that august spinster was ever known to dispense. The
Laird of Kenilworth announced that he also was content; but historians
should accept the statement with reserve. Sir FRANCIS either wasn't sure
whether the rules of the game allowed him to double again, or else had just
enough tact not to do so. The game then proceeded.

Sir WALTER led the ace of clubs. The appearance of the noble lord's
solitary little diamond, as he laid down his hand, was greeted by a loud
hiccough from the old salt, and the QUEEN herself was only saved from
swooning by the timely administrations of a page with a flask of sal-
volatile.

When, fourth in hand, she trumped the honest sailor's ace, her partner had
the hardihood to make conventional inquiry as to whether she had any clubs.
HER MAJESTY uttered in reply the one dreadful word, "Treason," thus
avoiding with true statesmanship any direct answer to the question, and
indicating clearly her opinion of his two-diamond call. The Keeper of the
Privy Purse shot out a lean hand and gathered in the trick.

With the help of the ace of spades in dummy, the ace of hearts in her own
hand, and a discriminating use of her Royal prerogative in the matter of
following suit, all went well until the odd trick had been won. After that,
however, Sir FRANCIS, who had not doubled without good reason, proceeded to
deal out six diamonds, led by the ace, king and queen. His partner unwisely
allowed his feelings to get the better of him. "As WILL SHAKSPEARE hath
it," he observed with unction, "'now is the winter of our discontent made
glorious summer--'" but stopped on a sudden, with ears and scalp twitching
horribly.

"Ho without! Summon the guard!" roared the last of the Tudors, and