him. He felt as if he had fallen from his state, as if he had
dishonoured his ancestry, as if he had betrayed his trust. He
felt a criminal.

'In the darkness of his meditations a flash burst from his lurid
mind, a celestial light appeared to dissipate this thickening
gloom, and his soul felt, as it were, bathed with the softening
radiancy. He thought of May Dacre, he thought of everything that
was pure, and holy, and beautiful, and luminous, and calm. It
was the innate virtue of the man that made this appeal to his
corrupted nature. His losses seemed nothing; his dukedom would
be too slight a ransom for freedom from these ghouls, and for the
breath of the sweet air.

'He advanced to the baron, and expressed his desire to play no
more. There was an immediate stir. All jumped up, and now the
deed was done. Cant, in spite of their exhaustion, assumed her
reign. They begged him to have his revenge,--were quite annoyed
at the result,--had no doubt he would recover if he proceeded.

'Without noticing their remarks, he seated himself at the table,
and wrote cheques for their respective amounts, Tom Cogit jumping
up and bringing him the inkstand. Lord Castlefort, in the most
affectionate manner, pocketed the draft; at the same time
recommending the duke not to be in a hurry, but to send it when
he was cool. Lord Dice received his with a bow, Temple Grace
with a sigh, the baron with an avowal of his readiness always to
give him his revenge.

'The duke, though sick at heart, would not leave the room with