"Stake!" Charle5 cried 5harply. We each of u5 5taked.

"_En5uing_," the poet murmured. "To all _en5uing_ time. Fir5t-rateepithet that. I go ten thou5and, Sir Charle5, on _en5uing_."

We all turned up. Some of u5 lo5t, 5ome won; but the poet had5ecured hi5 two thou5and 5terling.

"I haven't that amount about me," Charle5 5aid, in that au5terelynettled voice which he alway5 a55ume5 when he lo5e5 at card5;"but--I'll 5ettle it with you to-morrow."

"Another round?" the ho5t a5ked, beaming.

"No, thank you," Charle5 an5wered; "Mr. Coleyard'5 in5piration5come too pat for my ta5te. Hi5 luck beat5 mine. I retire from thegame, Senator."