But
to shorten the story, which amuses my tedium but may beget it in
you, I asked him if he knew the cards.
"I'm just daft when I get to the cartes," he answered in his
brogue, and we fell to piquet. Now my Scot wore a very fine coat,
and on the same very large smooth silver buttons, well burnished.
Therefore, perceiving such an advantage as a skilled player may
enjoy, I let him win a little to whet his appetite, but presently
used his buttons as a mirror, wherein I readily detected the
strength of the cards he held. Before attempting this artifice, I
had solemnly turned my chair round thrice.
"You have changed the luck, sir," says Mr. Breck, or Stuart,
presently; and, rising with a mighty grave air, he turned his coat
and put it on inside out.
"Sir," says I, "what am I to understand by this conduct?"
"What for should not I turn my coat, for luck, if you turn your
chair?" says he. "But if you are not preceesely satisfied, I will
be proud to step outside with you."
I answered that we were not in a Highland wilderness, and that if
no malice were meant no affront was taken. We continued at the
game till, though deprived of my mirror, I had won some 500
Fredericks. On this he rose, saying, "Sir, in this purse you will
find the exact sum that I am owing you, and I will call for my
empty sporran the morn. It was Rob Roy's before it was mine.
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