AN EXCITING GAME OF WHIST.
This artrole » nprmtei iro& in whichit gained a guinea pri& i*r . We bad beenplaying all the? evCnfejLS(i whist. The stake bad been |old JlHnr points, and 20 ob/% rubber. who is always lucky, bad won five*qonsecutive hampers, which lent a «Jf-satisfied smile to hm countenance., and made Us, ine tyosers, look anything b| changed countenance .and nesitfited to play. This the mote terprisCd tils, abuse he was one who seldom pondered, being itf completely master of the mine that be deemed long conridetetion ' * “Play away, Maxey, whatare you about?” impatiently demanded Churchill, <me ol the most, impetuous youths that ever wore the uniform of the body-guard. - - * ' v - “Hush! ” responded Maxey in a tone which thrilled through ns, at'the same turning deadly pale, “ Are you unwell ?” said another, 1 about ) / to start up, for he believed our friebd had ■ suddenly taken ill. '- 1 r : . “For the love of God, sit guiet!” rethe other, in a tone denoting extreme pain, mid he laid down ! his cards, j. “Ifyou valuemy life move not” , / ‘f What can he mean ?—has he taken leave of his senses ? ” demanded Churchill, aj* f pealing to myself. “I Don't start—don’t move, .! tell yjm,” hi a sort of a whisper, which foraet, uttered Maxey.,, “ Ifyon. make any su£W, , motion lam a dead inan t ” 'J ' y * •We exchanged looks. He continued—“'Remain- quiet, and aU may yet be well , I have a qobte, capella round my leg. ” ’ T ' Our first impulse was to djfttr back oojr chairs j an appealing look from the victim induced. Us to remain, although *we wwr* aware that the
one fold, and attach itself to any Other of the party, that individual already be counted dead man, so fatal is the bite of ■ that dreaded mohtter. ; Poor Maxey was dressed as many old residents still dress in India, namely, in ; breeches and silk stockings; he, therefore, the mote plainly felt every movement of the snake. His countenance assumed a livid hue; the words seemed to leave his mouth without that feature altering its position, so rigid was his look, and so fearful was ho lest the slightest inoscular movement should alahn the serpent and hasten the fatal bite. We vterc. fu agony little less than his own during the scene. .. “He is coiling rotted, ’* rflflnnured Maxey; n I feel him Cold—cold to my limb; atp now he tightens ( For the love of Heaven call for some inilk f I dare not speak load. Let it be placed on the ground near me ; lets some be spilt on the floor.” Churchill cautiously gave the order, and a servant flipped out of the room. _ “Don’tstir, Northcote—you moved your head; by everything sacred, I conjure yon not to do so again! It cannot be long ere my fate is decided. I have a wife and two> children in Europe; tell them that 1 died blessing them—that my last prayers were for them—the snake is winding itself around my calf—l leave tkera all 1 possets—l can almost fancy I feel his breath!” The milk was brought and carefully pot down; a few drops were sprinkled on the floor, and the ,affrighted servants drew back. Again Maxey. spoke; “No, not it has no effect. On the contrary, he has clasped himself tighter—he has uncurled his upper fold. I dare net look down, but I am sure he is about to draw back, and give the bite of death with more fatal precision. Receive me, .0 Lord, and pardon me; my last honr is come!” Again he pauses, “ I die firm ; but this is past endurance. Ah I no, he has undone another fold, and loosens himself. Can he be going to someone else?” We involuntarily started. “ For the love of Heaven, stir not! I’m a dead man; but bear with me. He still loosens; he is about . to dart. Move not, but beware 1 Oh, this agony is too hard to bear! , Another pressure and lam dead. No, he relaxes !he relaxes ! At that moment poof Maxey ventured to look down. The snake had unwound himself, the last coil had fallen, and the reptile was making for the milk. “I am saved ! saved!” and Maxey bounded from the chair, and fell senseless into the iarms of one of his servants. In another nstaut, need it be added, we were all dispersed; the snake was killed, and our friend carried more dead than alive to hia room. ; .
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Bibliographic details
Evening Star, Issue 6262, 11 April 1883, Page 2
Word Count
741AN EXCITING GAME OF WHIST. Evening Star, Issue 6262, 11 April 1883, Page 2
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