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"In short," said Sydney, "this is a desperate time, when

desperate games are played for desperate stakes. Let the Doctor

play the winning game; I will play the losing one. No man's life

here is worth purchase. Any one carried home by the people

to-day, may be condemned tomorrow. Now, the stake I have resolved

to play for, in case of the worst, is a friend in the

Conciergerie. And the friend I purpose to myself to win, is Mr.

Barsad."

"You need have good cards, sir," said the spy.

"I'll run them over. I'll see what I hold,--Mr. Lorry, you know

what a brute I am; I wish you'd give me a little brandy."

It was put before him, and he drank off a glassful--drank off

another glassful--pushed the bottle thoughtfully away.