"See, I have won
two thousand pounds; and you shall have a hundred of it."
But Maitland refused to have anything to do with such ill-gotten gains,
for which, too, his young master was sacrificing his health, and perhaps
his life. Still--though this did not strike Richard till afterward--he
could not help regarding the great heap of gold with considerable
interest. Added to the lad's previous gains, the amount was now very
large indeed--more than five thousand pounds.
"I should really think, Master Richard, as you had now won enough."
"Enough? Certainly not. I have not broken the bank yet. I mean to do
that before I've done with it, Johnny."
"That will be after you've killed yourself," said honest John.
"Well, then I shall die _rich_," was the reckless rejoinder.
Richard, who was too exhausted for repose, tossed and tumbled on his bed
for hours, and eventually dropped into a heavy slumber, and slept far
into the next morning. He awoke feeling very unwell, but his chief
anxiety was lest he should miss the opening of the tables; he was always
the first to begin. He rang his bell violently for Maitland. There was
no reply, and when he rang again, one of the hotel servants came up.
"Where is my man?" he inquired.
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