"I will be very glad," replied Ranald, his face lighting up, for he was more afraid than he cared to show of the lonely hours of that night. It would be the first night in his life away from his own kin and friends.

But he was not so glad when, after tea, as he stood at the door of the hotel, he saw sauntering toward him not only Harry, but also Lieutenant De Lacy and his friend Mr. Sims.

"These fellows would come along," explained Harry; "I told them you didn't want them."

"Showed how little he knew," said the lieutenant. "I told him you would be delighted."

"Will you come in?" said Ranald, rather grudgingly, "though there is nothing much inside."

"What a bear," said Mr. Sims to Harry, disgustedly, in a low voice.

"Nothing much!" said the lieutenant, "a good deal I should say from what one can hear."

"Oh, that is nothing," replied Ranald; "the boys are having some games."

The bar-room was filled with men in shanty dress, some sitting with chairs tipped back against the wall, smoking the black French "twist"

tobacco; others drinking at the bar; and others still at the tables that stood in one corner of the room playing cards with loud exclamations and oaths of delight or disgust, according to their fortune. The lieutenant pushed his way through the crowd, followed by the others.

"A jolly lot, by Jove!" he exclaimed, looking with mild interest on the scene, "and with the offer of some sport, too," he added, glancing at the card-players in the corner, where men were losing their winter's wages.

"What will you take?" said Ranald, prompted by his Highland sense of courtesy, "and would you have it in the next room?"

"Anywhere," said the lieutenant, with alacrity; "a little brandy and soda for me; nothing else in these places is worth drinking."

Ranald gave the order, and with some degree of pride, noticed the obsequious manner of the bar-tender toward him and his distinguished guests. They passed into an inner and smaller room, lit by two or three smoky lamps in brackets on the walls. In this room, sitting at one of the tables, were two Frenchmen playing ecarte. As the lieutenant entered, one of them glanced up and uttered an exclamation of recognition.

"Ah, it is our warlike friend," cried De Lacy, recognizing him in return; "you play this game also," he continued in French.

"Not moche," said LeNoir, for it was he, with a grand salute. "Will the capitaine join, and his friends?"

Ranald shook his head and refused.

"Come along," said the lieutenant, eagerly, to Ranald. The game was his passion. "Mr. Sims, you will; Harry, what do you say?"

"I will look on with Ranald."

"Oh, come in Macdonald," said the lieutenant, "the more the better, and we'll make it poker. You know the game?" he said, turning to LeNoir; "and your friend--I have not the pleasure--"

"Mr. Rouleau," said Ranald and LeNoir together, presenting the young Frenchman who spoke and looked like a gentleman.

"Do you play the game?" said the lieutenant.

"A verie leetle, but I can learn him."

"That's right," cried the lieutenant, approvingly.

"What do you say, Ranald," said Harry, who also loved the game.

"No," said Ranald, shortly, "I never play for money."

"Make it pennies," said Mr. Sims, with a slight laugh.

"Go on, De Lacy," said Harry, angry at Mr. Sims's tone. "You've got four--that'll do!"

"Oh, very well," said De Lacy, his easy, languid air returning to him.

"What shall it be--quarter chips with a dollar limit? Brandy and soda, Mr. LeNoir? And you, Mr. Rouleau? Two more glasses, garcon," and the game began.

From the outset Rouleau steadily won till his chips were piled high in front of him.

"You play the game well," said the lieutenant. "Shall we raise the limit?"

"As you lak," said Rouleau, with a polite bow.

"Let's make it five dollars," suggested Mr. Sims, to which all agreed.

But still the game was Rouleau's, who grew more and more excited with every win. The lieutenant played coolly, and with seeming indifference, in which he was imitated by Mr. Sims, the loss of a few dollars being a matter of small moment to either.

"It would make it more interesting if we made it a dollar to play," at length said Mr. Sims. The suggestion was accepted, and the game went on. At once the luck began to turn, and in a half hour's play Rouleau's winnings disappeared and passed over to the lieutenant's hand. In spite of his bad luck, however, Rouleau continued to bet eagerly and recklessly, until Ranald, who hated to see the young lumberman losing his season's wages, suggested that the game come to an end.

"The night is early," said the lieutenant, "but if you have had enough,"

he said, bowing to LeNoir and Rouleau.

"Non!" exclaimed Rouleau, "the fortune will to me encore. We mak it de two-dollar to play. Dat will brak de luck."

"I think you ought to stop it," said Harry.

But the demon of play had taken full possession of both Rouleau and the lieutenant and they were not to be denied. Rouleau took from his pocket a roll of bills and counted them.

"Fifty dollars," he cried. "Bon! I play him, me!"

The others deposited a like sum before them, and the game proceeded.

The deal was De Lacy's. After a few moment's consideration, Mr. Sims and LeNoir each drew three cards. In a tone of triumph which he could not altogether suppress, Rouleau exclaimed "Dees are good enough for me."

The lieutenant drew one card, and the betting began.

Twice Rouleau, when it came to his turn, bet the limit, the others contenting themselves by "raising" one dollar. On the third round LeNoir, remarking, "Das leetle too queek for me," dropped out.

Once more Rouleau raised the bet to the limit, when Mr. Sims refused, and left the game to him and the lieutenant. There was no mistaking the eager triumph in the Frenchman's pale face. He began to bet more cautiously, his only fear being that his opponent would "call" too soon. Dollar by dollar the bet was raised till at last Rouleau joyously gathered his last chips, raised the bet once more by the limit, exclaiming, as he did so, "Alas! dere ees no more!"

He had played his season's wages that night, but now he would recover all.

De Lacy, whose coolness was undisturbed, though his face showed signs of his many brandy-and-sodas, covered the bet.

"Hola!" exclaimed Rouleau in triumph. "Eet ees to me!" He threw down his cards and reached for the pile.

"Excuse me," said the lieutenant, quietly looking at Rouleau's cards.

"Ah, a straight flush, queen high." Coolly he laid his cards on the table. "Thought you might have had the ace," he said, languidly, leaning back in his chair. He, too, held a straight flush, but with the king.

Rouleau gazed thunderstruck.

"Mort Dieu!" he exclaimed, excitedly. "The deal was from you."