momentous slip of pasteboard. As the Prince's turn drew nearer, he
was conscious of a growing and almost suffocating excitement; but
he had somewhat of the gambler's nature, and recognised almost with
astonishment, that there was a degree of pleasure in his
sensations. The nine of clubs fell to his lot; the three of spades
was dealt to Geraldine; and the queen of hearts to Mr. Malthus, who
was unable to suppress a sob of relief. The young man of the cream
tarts almost immediately afterwards turned over the ace of clubs,
and remained frozen with horror, the card still resting on his
finger; he had not come there to kill, but to be killed; and the
Prince in his generous sympathy with his position almost forgot the
peril that still hung over himself and his friend.

The deal was coming round again, and still Death's card had not
come out. The players held their respiration, and only breathed by
gasps. The Prince received another club; Geraldine had a diamond;
but when Mr. Malthus turned up his card a horrible noise, like that
of something breaking, issued from his mouth; and he rose from his
seat and sat down again, with no sign of his paralysis. It was the
ace of spades. The honorary member had trifled once too often with
his terrors.

Conversation broke out again almost at once. The players relaxed
their rigid attitudes, and began to rise from the table and stroll
back by twos and threes into the smoking-room. The President
stretched his arms and yawned, like a man who has finished his
day's work. But Mr. Malthus sat in his place, with his head in his
hands, and his hands upon the table, drunk and motionless - a thing
stricken down.