It was the custom with some of the high flyers, or the bucks, as they were called, when the card room was closed, to go off together to a tavern, there to finish the evening drinking, singing, gambling, and rioting the whole night through and long after daylight. Truly the town of Lynn witnessed more profligacy and wickedness during this summer than all its long and ancient history had contained or could relate.

The assembly was held twice a week—on Tuesday and on Friday. It was on Tuesday night that a certain statement was made in a drunken conversation which might have awakened suspicion of some dark design had it been recorded. A small company of the said high flyers, among whom were Colonel Lanyon and the young man named Tom Rising, marched off to the tavern most frequented by them, after the closing of the rooms, and called for punch, cards, and candles. Then they sat down to play, with the ungodly and profane discourse which they affected. They played and drank, the young men drinking fast and hard, the colonel, after his custom, keeping his head cool.

The night in May is short; the daylight presently began to show through the red curtains of the tavern window; then the sun rose; the players went on, regardless of the dawn and of the sun. One of them pulled back the curtains and blew out the candles. But they went on noisily. One of them fell off his chair, and lay like a log; the rest drew close, and continued to drink and to play. Among them no one played higher or more recklessly than Tom Rising. It was a game in which one holds the bank and takes the bets of the players. Colonel Lanyon held the bank, and took Tom's bets, which were high, as readily as those of the others which were low.

At five in the morning he laid down the cards.

"Gentlemen," he said, "we have played enough, and taken more than enough, I fear. Let us stop the game at this point."

"You want to stop," said Tom Rising, whose face was flushed and his speech thick, "because you've been winning. I want my revenge—I will have my revenge."

"Sir," said the colonel, "any man who says that I refuse revenge attacks my honour. No, sir. To-morrow, that is to say, this evening, or any time you please except the present, you shall have your revenge, and as much as you please. I appeal to the company. Gentlemen, it is now five o'clock, and outside broad daylight. The market bells have already begun. Are we drunk or sober?"

"Drunk, colonel, drunk," said the man on the floor.

"If we are drunk we are no longer in a condition fit for play. Let us therefore adjourn until the evening. Is this fair, gentlemen, or is it not? I will go on if you please."

"It is quite fair, colonel," one of them replied. "I believe you have lost, and you might insist on going on."

"Then, let us look to the counters." They played with counters each representing a guinea or two or five, as had been agreed upon at the outset. So every man fell to counting and exchanging until all had done except Tom Rising, who sat apparently stupid with drink. Then they began to pay each other on the differences.

"Twenty-five guineas, colonel."

The colonel passed over the money with cheerfulness.

"Forty-three guineas, colonel."

He paid this sum—and so on with the rest. He had lost, it appeared, to every one of the players except Tom Rising, whose reckoning was not made up. They were all paid immediately and cheerfully. Now the gentlemen of Norfolk are as honourable in their sport as any in the kingdom, but they seldom lose without a curse or two. This cheerfulness, therefore, under ill fortune surprised them.

The colonel turned to Tom, whose eyes were closing. "Mr. Rising, we will settle, if you please, after we have slept off the punch."

Tom grunted and tried to speak. He was at that point of drunkenness when he could understand what was said, but spoke with difficulty. It is one of the many transient stages of intoxication.

"Then, gentlemen," said the colonel, "we can meet again whenever you please. I only hope that you are satisfied with me for stopping the play at this point."

"We are, colonel. We are quite satisfied." So they pushed back their chairs and rose somewhat unsteadily. But they had all won, and therefore had reason to be satisfied.

"I'm not—not satisfied." Tom Rising managed to get out these words and tried to, but without success, to sit square and upright.

"Well, sir," said the colonel, "you shall have your revenge to-morrow."

"I want it now—I'll have it now. Bring another bowl." His head dropped again.

"The gentleman," said the colonel, "is not in a condition to play. It would be cruel to play with him in this state."

"Come, Tom," one of them shook him by the arm, "wake up and be reasonable."

"I've lost again, and I want revenge."

"To-morrow, Tom, the colonel will give you as much revenge as you please."

Tom made no reply. He seemed asleep.

"He shall have as much revenge as he pleases. Meantime, gentlemen, we have been pleasant together, so far. But this young gentleman plays high—very high. I am ready to meet his wishes; but, gentlemen—far be it from me to hint that he is not a gentleman of large estate—but the fact is that he has lost pretty heavily and wants to go on continually."

"Yesterday," Tom spoke with closed eyes, "it was eight hundred. To-day it's—how much to-day?"

They looked at each other. "Gentlemen," said the colonel, "you have heard what he says. I hope you will believe me when I assure you that the high play was forced upon me."

They knew Tom to be the owner of a pretty estate of about £1,200 a year, and they knew him to be a sportsman, eager and reckless. Eight hundred pounds is a large sum to raise upon an estate of £1,200, even if there were no other demands upon it.

"Say, rather, had a good estate," said another.

"I need not point out, gentlemen," the colonel observed, severely, "the extreme injustice of admitting to our circle those who venture to play beyond their means. Play demands, above all things, jealousy in admittance. If men of honour meet for a few hours over the cards, the least they can demand is that, since they have to pay at sight, or within reasonable time, no one shall be admitted who is not able to pay within reasonable time, whatever losses he may make. You and I, gentlemen," he continued, "have not forced this high play upon our friend here."

"No. Tom would always fly higher than his neighbours."

"I think, colonel," said one of them gravely, "that this matter concerns the honour of the place and the county. You come among us a man of honour; you play and pay honourably. We admit Tom Rising into our company. He must raise the money. But you will grant him time. Eight hundred pounds and more——"

"Perhaps a thousand," said the colonel.

"Cannot be raised in a moment. We are not in London; there are no money lenders with us; and I know not how much has been already raised upon the estate. But, colonel, rest assured that the money shall be duly paid. Perhaps it will be well not to admit poor Tom to our table in future, though it will be a hard matter to deny him."

Then Tom himself lifted his head.

"I can hear what you say, but I am too drunk to talk. Colonel, it's all right. Wait a day or two." He struggled again to sit upright. One of his friends loosened his cravat, another took off his wig and rubbed his head with a wet cloth. "Why," he said, "I am sober again. Let's have another bowl and another game."

"No, no," his friends cried out together. "Enough, Tom; get up and go to bed."

"Colonel Lanyon," he said, "and friends all—gentlemen of this honourable company"—he ran his words together as men in liquor use—but they understood him perfectly. "I will play as high as I like; and as deep as I like; and as long as I like. I will play till I have stripped every man among you to the very bones. Why do I say this? Because, gentlemen, after Friday night I shall be the richest man in the county. D'ye hear? The richest man in the county. You don't know how? Very well. Do you think I am going to tell you? Ho! ho! when you hear the news, you'll say, 'twas only Tom—only Tom Rising—had the courage to venture and to win."

"He means the hazard table," said the colonel.

"No; not the hazard table," Tom went on. "Oh! I know the table and the woman who keeps the bank, and pretends to weep when you lose. I know about her. I've heard talk about her. What is it? Don't remember. Tell you to-morrow."

"He should stop talking," said the colonel, "we must not listen to his wanderings."

"Richest man in the county," he repeated. "Colonel, I like your company. You lay down your money like a man. In a week, colonel, I'll have it all; there shan't be a guinea left among you all. Richest man in county—make—guineas—fly." His head sunk down again. He was once more speechless.

His friends looked from one to the other. What did Tom Rising mean?

"Gentlemen," said the colonel, "he has been drinking for many days. He has some kind of a fit upon him. After a sleep he will be better. Just now he dreams of riches. I have known men in such a condition to see animals, and think that they are hunted by rats and clawed by devils."

Again Tom lifted his head and babbled confusedly.

"The richest man—the richest man in the whole county. After Friday night—not to-night—after Friday night. I have found out a short way to fortune. The richest man in the county."

So they left him sleeping in his chair, with his head on the table among the glasses and the spilt punch. It was not long, however, before they discovered what his words had meant. It was not the raving of a drunken man, but the betrayal in his cups—unfortunately only a partial revelation of the abominable wickedness by which he proposed to acquire sudden wealth. Said I not that Tom Rising was never one to be balked or denied when he had set his heart upon a thing; nor was he to be restrained by any consideration of law, human or divine; or of consequences in this world or the next? You shall now hear what he designed and what he called the shortest way, and how he was going to become the richest man in the county.