other of the priests—the head man evidently
losing fast, and Pins winning.

Tempers got lost, and scarcely civil words were
exchanged amongst the party. I could see Pins's
red face, glowing like a nor’-west moon, under
the flush of excitement and brandy. As we had
supped late, Sunday morning was on us before
I was aware. Two o'clock struck, and Mrs.
Pins and I jumped to our feet. Two o'clock on
a Sunday morning, in a minister's house, playing
cards, the gamblers, priests of the Holy Greek
Church! It was against the conscience of a
Scot to assist at such on-goings, not that I am
strait-laced to an hour or two, considering the
difference of clocks. I therefore energetically
backed Mrs. Pins, who was requesting her
husband to go home. Pins rose; but reluctantly,
as it seemed to me, and was about to accompany
us. The priests had no mind to let him
go off so easily. He and his partner had won
two hundred roubles, and it was clearly against
all rules to run away so soon. The others must
have their revenge—it was only two o'clock.
So he sat down again, saying, "Go, my dear,
with Mr. Sanderson. I'll play the old fellows
till daylight, if they like. It shall never be said
that an Englishman shirked off because his
pocket was full of other people's money."

As our host politely showed us to the door,
he said to me, "Do you attend the church at
eight?"

"Yes, it is my intention; but I don't think
you will be there in a fit state, if you play much
longer. It is a shame."

"No fear," he said; "but your friend has won
much money, and I must have my turn. It is
nothing."

At seven o'clock I was awoke by a servant
with information that his master had not
returned, and that madame desired me to walk to
the priest's house, and see how matters stood. I
dressed hastily, and went to the parsonage,
rectory, or what shall I call it? As I passed the
church I saw that it was in course of preparation
for the morning performances; but my business
was not with the church, it was with the priests.
Just as I reached the door a clerk (decchock)
was entering. He was a dirty, yellow, sickly
fellow, with a flavouring of stale tobacco.

"Where is the pope, Vassillia?" I said.

"Yonder," pointing to the room I had so
lately left.

"Playing still? It is too bad."

"To be sure; it is nothing. I have known
master play two days and nights at a stretch.
But it is now time for service, and I must tell
him."

I pushed past him into the room. It was
Sabbath morn, half an hour before service, and
the men who were to officiate sat round a table
with flushed faces, eager looks, dishevelled hair,
and ruffled attire. Candles were burnt down in
their sockets, daylight streamed in through the
shutterless windows. The brandy and wine
bottles were empty. A great jug of "ghuass"
was on a side-table, old cards littered the painted
floor, and the atmosphere was reeking with the
fumes of the "papeross;" for smoking was still
going on. I saw at a glance that the tide of
luck had left the Englishman. The priest was
buoyant; he was flat.

"They are winning it back," he said to me as
I entered; "I have had three hundred, now
have but fifty."

"Ay," said the tall priest, "and this game
will get that back also; it is for fifty—is it not?"

Then the clerk entered, and advanced with as
little show of concern as if the exhibition was a
fit and usual preparation to the church rites, and
after reverentially crossing himself, intimated to
the priest in chief that, in half an hour, it would
be his time to go on to commence the services.

"Very good, Vassillia, my son. Don't disturb
me now, but listen;—come back exactly three
minutes before eight."

"I hear, and obey," said Vassillia, and
vanished.

I cannot say these men were drunk; on the
contrary, they seemed more sober than they had
been when I left them at two o'clock; but the
demon of play held them in his grip; they were
as fresh for it, and as absorbed as if they had
only played two or three hours. My
remonstrances and expostulations were thrown away,
and in indignant curiosity, I sat down to watch
the end.

The priest and his partner lost. Pins and his
partner won another fifty. The next game was
to be double or quits, the deal made with a
fresh pack; and, as I sat in full view of the tall
priest, I could see his face brighten up, and a
look of intelligence pass between him and his
partner. At this moment the decchock again
entered. "Three minutes to eight o'clock."

All but the tall priest threw their cards on the
table and rose, saying "A fresh deal after
service."

"No, no," he said, "keep your hand, partner;
I shall keep mine, it is a good one, and we shall
play the game after our return; here Vassillia,
give me a towel, wet: that will do. Now my
robes—there—that comb, and now go every one
to your posts. I shall be there presently." Thus
saying he proceeded with a firm step to the
church by the private entrance already
mentioned. As he left the room I saw him place
his good hand of cards within his sacred robes,
under the inside fastening. He was evidently
determined not to lose sight of his trumps, and
carried them off on his person into the church.
I ran round to the front entrance, and was just
in time to witness the commencement of the
service. It is a wonder judgment did not fall on
the chief priest. And it did in a way. At one part
of the service, just as he was stepping on the
platform, he put his hand inside his robe to pull out
his handkerchief, and, as he drew it out, the cards
came also unbidden, and fell scattered over the
altar floor. This would have paralysed any
ordinary man; but that priest never winced for a
moment. He looked coolly at the cards, then
steadily at the people, as much as to say, "You
all see that; take notice of it. I shall tell you
about that by-and-by." He then continued