The card-room was well occupied. We cut into a table with two other men,
one of whom was the stockbroker who had made the lucky _coup_ that
afternoon, and the other was a disagreeable sort of fellow who, I
learnt afterwards, had inherited a great deal of money and had done
little all his life to diminish it. His name was Brummer; he had the
manners of a costermonger, and not of one in the higher walks of that
calling, if there are such.
Lord Charles treated both of them with a careless good-nature which
seemed to subdue somewhat the exuberance of their vulgarity; but I
thought that before we made up our table they looked about as if they
would rather have joined another one. And it was evident that they
suspected me of being what Brummer called contemptuously "a ----
philanthropist," when the stockbroker told him I had come into the club
with Mr. Perry.
Lord Charles was my partner, and I took the precaution of asking him
what the points were to be, before we began.
"Oh, club points--a sovereign," he said, in an off-hand manner, and I
could only hope that my luck would stand good, for they were much higher
than I was accustomed to.
However, I had over ten pounds in my pocket and did not suppose that
there would be much difficulty in getting more in Upsidonia if I wanted
it. So I sat down with no particular uneasiness.
It was a long rubber, but it ended in Lord Charles leaving the
declaration to me, and my declaring "no trumps," with four aces and a
long suit of diamonds.
When he had expressed his satisfaction, and Brummer had sworn heavily at
our luck, I leant back in my chair to watch him play the hand.
He was just about to begin, when there was some commotion in the room,
and I looked up to see two men in blue uniforms coming towards us with
notebooks in their hands.
Brummer let out a violent oath, and muttered something about the ----
inspectors. Lord Charles looked up at them and said: "Hullo! Come for a
drink?"
They ignored this pleasantry, and the superior of them asked what stakes
we were playing for.
"Club stakes, of course," said Brummer. "Pound points, and a hundred on
the rubber."
This was a most unpleasant shock to me, until I reflected that the
rubber was certainly ours by the cards on the table, and I need not play
another one. So I was enabled to give my attention to the inspector, who
enquired if I was a member of the club, and, when I said that I was a
visitor, asked the name of my introducer.
Then he looked at the table and said: "None of you are drinking
anything. When did you last imbibe?"
"A good idea!" said Lord Charles. "Let's have drinks all round. What's
yours, Inspector?"
The inspector smiled indulgently, and went away to another table.
Brummer and the other man immediately became violently abusive.
"They wouldn't dare put their noses into a poor man's club," said
Brummer; and the other man asked: "Why should we be forced to drink, if
we don't want to?"
"I always do want to," said Lord Charles. "I want a whisky and soda now
as much as I ever wanted anything in my life. You'll join me, Mr.
Howard?"
But I declined. There were limits.
"Why do they insist upon your drinking?" I asked.
"Oh, because it's a club, and the wine-merchants have been kicking up a
row lately. They say the supply is beginning to exceed the demand;[20]
that we're getting abstemious, but I'm sure I don't know where they get
their information from. Now then--you've led a spade, Brummer. Very
good. I put on the ace. I play out Dummy's seven diamonds and his two
other aces; put myself in with a small club, and make my king, queen,
and knave--grand slam."
He put his cards down on the table, and Brummer and his partner, after
looking at them suspiciously, accepted the inevitable, and proceeded to
add up the score.
We had won two hundred and thirty-four points, and quite a pleasant
feeling came over me as I contemplated receiving that number of pounds.
But my satisfaction was short-lived. To my unspeakable horror, I saw
Lord Charles cheerfully handing over bank notes and gold to the
stockbroker, and realised that I was expected to do the same to the
odious Brummer. I ought to have anticipated it. If you won at anything
in Upsidonia, of course, you paid out money; if you lost, you received
it.
What was I to do? In my distress I mumbled something about having
thought that the points were a pound a hundred, and then a gleam of
relief came to me when it struck me that Brummer would be better pleased
than anything at my omitting to pay him, especially as he had bitterly
complained at his want of luck in losing the rubber, as ill-bred players
always do, and had made himself intensely disagreeable to his partner
for losing a possible trick at an earlier point of the game.
But unfortunately, Brummer took my evident unwillingness to pay up as an
offensive mark of patronage.
"We don't want none of your blooming charity here," he said. "'Oo the
something, something are you, to come 'ere crowing over us? If you win a
rubber in this 'ere club, you fork out same as if you was playing with
the nobs."
"Oh, yes, Howard," said Lord Charles, "you needn't be shy. Brummer don't
mind taking it a bit. Why, it's a fleabite to him. He's got a hundred
thousand sitting on his chest at home."
"But I tell you I haven't got it," I said. "I've only got about fifteen
pounds in the world."
"Well, then, what do you want to come poking yourself in 'ere for in
that rig out?" enquired Brummer with more oaths. "We ain't a wild beast
show, are we? I thought there was something fishy about you when Perry
first brought you in."
"What's this? What's this?" exclaimed a voice at my elbow. "I say,
Brummer, my man, don't forget yourself, you know. No language! It's one
of the rules of the club, to which we have all subscribed."
I looked round to see standing behind me an athletic-looking young man
in the dress of a curate.[21]
"Ah, Thompson!" said Lord Charles. "Come to see we're all behaving
ourselves, eh? It's all right. Brummer was just going to write out a
U. O. Me to give to Mr. Howard. Here's a fountain pen, Brummer. You can
write it on the back of the score."
Brummer scrawled "U. O. Me L234" and signed his name to it in an
execrable fist, and I put it in my pocket, wondering what I was to do
about it. Then Brummer and the stockbroker got up and left the table.
Lord Charles introduced me to Mr. Thompson, and then drifted off
himself, with a sort of determined carelessness.
Somewhat to my surprise, Mr. Thompson gripped me affectionately by the
arm just above the elbow, and led me out of the room. "Very pleased to
make your acquaintance, old fellow," he said heartily. "You and I must
get to know each other better. Some night, when you've got nothing
better to do, you must come round to my digs and have a yarn, and a cup
of coffee. Now, what have you been doing with yourself all day?"
I was led into the big room again, and deposited in a chair, from which
I could see Mr. Perry slumbering by the window in the evening sunlight,
while the curate took one next to me, in which he sat upright, with his
legs crossed, and his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat.
"After all," he said, looking at me with manly but somewhat embarrassing
tenderness, "smoking and drinking and playing cards aren't everything in
the world, are they! You feel that yourself, I know. It's so jolly to
feel you've done something with your day--something to raise a pal."
I muttered something to the effect that it _was_ rather jolly; but he
did not seem to want me particularly to help in the conversation.
"Do you take any interest in Coleoptera?" he asked, and proceeded,
clasping his hands and cracking their joints: "Coleoptera is larks. A
few fellows come round to me every Tuesday evening, and we teach each
other something about the beggars. How would you like to join us
to-night?"
"I don't know where it is," I said.
He gave me the address of his rooms, with a half-concealed air of
eagerness.
"I mean I don't know where Coleoptera is," I said. "I never could tackle
geography."
"Oh, I see!" he said, not turning a hair, for which I respected him.
"No, you've got it wrong, old chap. Coleoptera is beetles, you know. The
fact is that I wanted to get up some subject that would give fellows
like you a taste for science. There's a good deal to be lost over it,
you know. Have you ever heard of Professor Gregory? He began just like
that, reading with a parson fellow who took an interest in him--I mean,
took an interest in science. Gregory was the son of a ground landlord,
you know, and if _he_ could raise himself to what he is now, anybody
could. Why don't you try it, old chap? I'm sure you look intelligent
enough."
I looked as modest as possible under the circumstances, and he seemed to
regard me more closely. "What's your line?" he asked. "What are you
doing to scare off the oof-bird?"[22]
I don't know what I should have replied to this question, but at that
moment Mr. Perry, whom I had observed gradually waking up, came over to
us and said: "Ah, Howard, I see you're in good hands, but I think we
must be going off now. The carriage is at the door, and my good Thomas
won't like to be kept waiting."
The curate looked at me again, with a slightly different expression, and
Mr. Perry said to him: "We don't often get a Highlander here, do we,
Thompson? Mr. Howard is making social enquiries. I dare say he has
learnt quite a lot from you."
The curate suddenly laughed. "I am afraid I have put my foot in it,
sir," he said. "If you come among us disguised as a rich man, you can't
complain of being treated like one."[23]
He was a good fellow, and we shook hands warmly as we parted.
FOOTNOTES:
[20] When I discussed this with Edward, he asked indignantly why those
in the liquor trade should be assisted in this way, when other traders
in a like predicament would get no help from the Government, but would
have to put up prices. I could give him no answer.
[21] The club to which Mr. Perry had introduced me would have
corresponded to a working man's club with us, and was under some sort of
clerical control. Its members set this, along with the annual
subscription, as against advantages enjoyed.
[22] Upsidonian expression for getting rid of your money.
[23] The clergy in Upsidonia were accustomed to treat the rich in a
slightly different manner from that in which they treated the poor.