The judge nodded abruptly. He need not have worried. He took the first two hands and nearly £10 with it. In the third hand O'Connor folded early, losing his 10s. playing stake yet again. The priest put down four of his £1 matchsticks. Judge Comyn looked at his hand; he had a full house, jacks on sevens. It had to be better. The priest only had £7 left.
'
I'll cover your four pounds, Father,' he said pushing his matches to the centre, 'and I'll raise you five pounds.'
'Oh dear,' he said, 'I'm nearly out. What can I do?'
'Only one thing,' said O'Connor, 'if you don't want Mr Comyn to raise you again to a sum you cannot cover. Push five pounds forward and ask to see the cards.'
'I '11 see the cards,' said the priest, as if reciting a ritual as he pushed five headed matchsticks forward. The judge put down his full house and waited. The priest laid out four tens. He got his £9 back, plus another £9 from the judge, plus the 30s. table stakes. With his £2 still in hand, he had £2110s.
In this manner they arrived at Limerick Junction which, as is proper for an Irish railway system, is nowhere near Limerick but just outside Tipperary. Here the train went past the main platform, then backed up to it, since the platform could not be reached on the down line. A few people got on and off, but no one disturbed the game or entered the compartment.
By Charleville the priest had taken £10 off O'Connor, who was looking worried, and the game slowed up. O'Connor tended to fold quickly, and too many hands ended with another player electing to fold as well. Just before Mallow, by agreement, they eliminated all the small cards, keeping sevens and up, and making a thirty-two-card deck. Then the game speeded up again.
By Headford poor O'Connor was down £12 and the judge £20, both to the priest.
'Would it not be a good idea if I paid back now the twelve pounds I started with?' asked the priest.
Both the others agreed it would. They got their £6 loans back. The priest still had £32 to play with. O'Connor continued to play cautiously, only wagering high and winning £10 back with a full house that beat two pairs and a flush. The lakes of Killarney drifted by the window unadmired.
Out of Farranfore the judge knew he had the hand he had been waiting for. After drawing three cards he gazed in delight at four queens and a seven of clubs in his hand. O'Connor must have thought he had a good hand too, for he went along when the judge covered the priest's £5 and raised him £5. When the priest responded by covering the £5 and raising £10, O'Connor lost his nerve and folded. Once again he was £12 down on where he had started playing.
The judge bit his thumbnail. Then he covered the priest's £10 and raised him £10.
'Five minutes to Tralee,' said the guard, poking his head round the compartment door. The priest stared in dismay at the matchsticks in the centre of the table and at his own small pile representing £12.
'I don't know,' he said. 'Oh, Lord, I don't know.'
'Father,' said O'Connor, 'you can't raise any more; you'll have to cover it and ask to see.'
'I suppose so,' said the priest sadly, pushing £10 in matchsticks into the centre of the table and leaving himself with £2. 'And I was doing so well. I should have given the orphanage the thirty-two pounds while I had it. And now I have only two pounds for them.'
'I'll make it up to five pounds, Father,' said Judge Comyn. 'There. Four ladies.'
O'Connor whistled. The priest looked at the spread-out queens and then at his own hand.
'Are not kings above queens?' he asked in puzzlement.
'They are if you have four of them,' said the judge.
The priest laid his cards on the table.
'But I do,' he said. And he did. 'Lord save us,' he breathed, 'but I thought all was lost. I thought you must have the royal thing there.'
They cleared the cards and matches away as they rolled into Tralee. O'Connor got his cards back. The judge put the broken matches in the ashtray. O'Connor counted out twelve single pound notes from his pocket and handed them over to the priest.
'God bless you, my son,' said the priest.
Judge Comyn regretfully got out his cheque book. 'Fifty pounds exactly, I believe, Father,' he said.
'If you say so,' said the priest, 'sure and I have forgotten what we even started with.'
'I assure you I owe the orphanage fifty pounds,' said the judge. He prepared to write. 'You said the Dingle Orphanage? Is that what I should write?'
The priest appeared perplexed.
'You know, I do not believe they even have a bank account, so small is the place,' said the Father.