This was enough from his lordship, and was certainly better for
me than running the chance of damages in the King's Bench, for provoking
his majesty's subjects to a breach of the peace.
I was gazetted, tried on my uniform before the mirror, entirely approved
of my appearance, and wrote my last letter to my last flirt. The
Portsmouth mail was to start at eight. I had an hour to spare, and
sallied into the street. I met an honest-faced old acquaintance as much
at a loss as myself to slay the hour. We were driven by a shower into
shelter. The rattle of dice was heard within a green-baize-covered door.
We could not stay for ever shivering on the outside. Fortune favoured
me; in half an hour I was master of a thousand pounds; it would have
been obvious folly and ingratitude to check the torrent of success for
the paltry prospects of an ensigncy. I played on, and won on. The clock
struck eight. I will own that I trembled as the first sound caught my
ear. But whether nervous or not, from that instant the torrent was
checked. The loss and gain became alternate.
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