the conqueror. "Your game has been short," said Harley. "I re-
piqued him," answered the old man, with joy sparkling in his
countenance. Harley wished to be re-piqued too, but he was
disappointed; for he had the same good fortune against his opponent.
Indeed, never did fortune, mutable as she is, delight in mutability
so much as at that moment. The victory was so quick, and so
constantly alternate, that the stake, in a short time, amounted to
no less a sum than 12 pounds, Harley's proportion of which was
within half-a-guinea of the money he had in his pocket. He had
before proposed a division, but the old gentleman opposed it with
such a pleasant warmth in his manner, that it was always over-ruled.
Now, however, he told them that he had an appointment with some
gentlemen, and it was within a few minutes of his hour. The young
stranger had gained one game, and was engaged in the second with the
other; they agreed, therefore, that the stake should be divided, if
the old gentleman won that: which was more than probable, as his
score was 90 to 35, and he was elder hand; but a momentous re-pique
decided it in favour of his adversary, who seemed to enjoy his
victory mingled with regret, for having won too much, while his
friend, with great ebullience of passion, many praises of his own
good play, and many malediction's on the power of chance, took up
the cards, and threw them into the fire.



CHAPTER XXVI--FRUITS OF THE DEAD SEA



The company he was engaged to meet were assembled in Fleet Street.