racing ponies to reach the lodge-gates before they closed for the night,
after a day of disobedience and truancy. He remembered how Garnett had
given him the better pony of the two, so that the younger brother, who
would be more heavily punished if they were locked out, should have the
better chance. Garnett, if odd in manner and character, had always been
a true sportsman though not a lover of sport.

If--if--why had he never thought of Garnett? Garnett could help him, and
he would do so. He would let Garnett stand in with him--take one-third
of his profits from the syndicate. Yes, he must ask Garnett to see him
through. Then it was that he lifted his head from his hands, and his
mind awakened out of a dream as real as though he had actually been
asleep. Garnett--alas! Garnett was thousands of miles away, and he had
not heard from him for five years. Still, he knew the master of
Castlegarry was alive, for he had seen him mentioned in a chance number
of The Morning Post lately come to his hands. What avail! Garnett was
at Castlegarry, and at midnight his chance of fortune and a new life
would be gone. Then, penniless, he would have to face Mona again; and
what would come of that he could not see, would not try to see. There
was an alternative he would not attempt to face until after midnight,
when this crisis in his life would be over. Beyond midnight was a
darkness which he would not now try to pierce. As his eyes again became
used to his surroundings, a look of determination, the determination of
the true gambler, came into his face. The real gambler never throws up
the sponge till all is gone; never gives up till after the last toss of
the last penny of cash or credit; for he has seen such innumerable times
the thing come right and good fortune extend a friendly hand with the
last hazard of all.

Suddenly he remembered--saw--a scene in the gambling rooms at Monte Carlo