Lord Dice received his with a bow, Temple Grace
with a sigh, the baron with an avowal of his readiness always to
give him his revenge.
'The duke, though sick at heart, would not leave the room with
any evidence of a broken spirit; and when Lord Castlefort again
repeated--"Pay us when we meet again," he said, "I think it very
improbable that we shall meet again, my Lord. I wished to know
what gaming was. I had heard a great deal about it. It is not
so very disgusting; but I am a young man, and cannot play tricks
with my complexion."
'He reached his house. The Bird was out. He gave orders for
himself not to be disturbed, and he went to bed; but in vain he
tried to sleep. What rack exceeds the torture of an excited
brain and an exhausted body? His hands and feet were like ice,
his brow like fire; his ears rung with supernatural roaring; a
nausea had seized upon him, and death he would have welcomed. In
vain, in vain he courted repose; in vain he had recourse to every
expedient to wile himself to slumber. Each minute he started
from his pillow with some phrase which reminded him of his late
fearful society. Hour after hour moved on with its leaden pace;
each hour he heard strike, and each hour seemed an age.
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