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"Never mind," said his Excellency, whose whole countenance had lighted up at the thought of play; "I admire your garters--a pistole against them."
"Done!" said Sir Asinus with great readiness; and they sat down to play.
In two hours Sir Asinus was sitting at spadille in the exceedingly undress costume of shirt, pantaloons, and silk stockings.
His coat was thrown on a chair; his worsted shoes were in one corner of the room; and his c.o.c.ked hat lay upon his waistcoat at the Governor's feet.
The Governor took extreme delight in these practical jokes. He had won these articles of Sir Asinus's clothing one after another; and now he was about to commence with the remainder.
"Look! spadille, the ace!" he cried; "I have your neckcloth."
And his Excellency burst into a roar of laughter.
Sir Asinus slowly and sadly drew off his neckcloth, and deposited it on the pile.
"Good!" cried his Excellency; "now for your short clothes!"
"No, no!" Sir Asinus remonstrated; "now, your Excellency!--mercy, your Excellency! How would I look going through the town of Williamsburg breechless?"
"You might go after night," suggested his Excellency, generously.
"No, no!"
"Well, well, I'll be liberal--my servant shall bring you a suit of clothes from your apartment; of course these are mine."
A sudden thought struck Sir Asinus.
"I'll play your Excellency this ring against ten pistoles," he said; "I lost sight of it."
"Done!" said his Excellency.
Sir Asinus won the game; and Fauquier, with the exemplary honesty of the confirmed gambler, took ten pistoles from his purse and handed them across the table.
"Nine pieces for my coat and the rest," said Sir Asinus persuasively; "it is really impolite to be playing with your Excellency in such deshabille as this."
"Willingly," said Fauquier, shaking with merriment.
And he pocketed the nine pistoles while Sir Asinus was making his toilet at a Venetian mirror.
They then commenced playing again--Sir Asinus staking his pistole. He won, and continued to win until night; when candles were brought, and they commenced again.
By ten o'clock Sir Asinus had won fifteen thousand pistoles from the Governor.
By midnight Fauquier, playing with the nerve of a great gambler, had won them all back--laughing, careless, but not more careless than when he lost.
At fifteen minutes past twelve he had won a bond for two hundred pistoles from Sir Asinus; at sixteen minutes past twelve his Excellency rose, and taking the cards up with both hands, threw them out of the window.
Then rolling up the bond which Sir Asinus had executed a moment before, he gracefully lit with it a pipe which he had just filled; and, first telling a servant "to carry lights to the chamber next to his own," said to Sir Asinus:
"My dear boy, I have done wrong to-night; but this is my master pa.s.sion. Cards have ruined me three distinct times; and if you play you will inevitably follow my example and destroy your prospects. Take my advice, and never touch them. If you have no genius for chance, twelve months will suffice to ruin you. If you turn out a great player, one half the genius you expend upon it will conquer a kingdom or found an empire. If you prefer oxygen to air--gamble! If you think _aquafortis_ healthier than water--_gamble_! If you consider fever and fire the proper components of your blood--_gamble_! Take my advice, and never touch a card again--your bond is ashes. Come, Tom, to bed!"
And his Excellency, laughing as good-humoredly as ever, led the way up the broad staircase, preceded by a servant carrying a flambeau.
Sir Asinus found a magnificent apartment prepared for him--a velvet fauteuil, silk-curtained bed, wax candles in silver candelabra; and seeing that his guest was comfortably fixed, Governor Fauquier bade him good night.
As for Sir Asinus, he retired without delay, and dreamed that he ruined his Excellency at cards; won successively all his real and personal estate; and lastly, having staked a thousand pistoles against his commission as Governor, won that also. Then, in his dream, he rose in his dignity, lit his pipe with the parchment, and made his Excellency a low and generous bow.
As he did so, the day dawned.
CHAPTER VII.
JACQUES BESTOWS HIS PATERNAL ADVICE UPON A SCHOOLGIRL.
Just a week after the practical lesson given by his Excellency Governer Fauquier to Sir Asinus, and on a bright fine morning, the melancholy Jacques issued from the walls of his Alma Mater, and took his way along Gloucester street toward the residence of his friend and rival.
Jacques was dressed with unusual splendor. His coat was heavy with embroidery--his waistcoat a blooming flower-plat, upon whose emerald background roses, marigolds, and lilies flaunted in their satin bravery--and his scarlet silk stockings were held up by gold-colored garters. His narrow-edged c.o.c.ked hat drooped with its feather over his handsome features, and in his delicately gloved hand he held a slight cane, which, from time to time he rested on the point of his high-heeled shoes, bending the lithe twig with irreproachable elegance.
Not far from the residence of the rebel he encountered and saluted with melancholy courtesy a very lovely young girl of about fifteen, who was tripping along to school, a satchel full of books upon her arm, and, covering her bright locks, a sun-bonnet such as school-girls wore at that time, and indeed in our own day.
"Good morning, my dear Miss Merryheart," said Jacques, removing his glove and holding out his jewelled hand.
The girl laughed artlessly, and gave him her hand, saying:
"Good morning, sir; but you have mistaken my name."
"Mistaken your name?"
"Yes, sir; it is Martha."
"And not Merryheart; but you are not responsible. Merryheart is your real name--not Martha, who was 'c.u.mbered,' you know."
"But I _am_ 'c.u.mbered,'" replied the girl with a laugh.
"How, my dear madam?" asked the courteous Jacques.
"By my satchel."
"Ah! let me carry it for you."
"No, no."
"Why not?"
"I won't trouble you."