were going from table to table, pretending to watch the game, but
turning to gaze at some man player with a peculiar little smile. If he
took no notice they would sidle off again.
Hugh saw many people he knew, among them Mrs. and Miss Calderbrook.
The Calderbrook family seemed to live in the Rooms now. This evening
Mr. Calderbrook was not with them, and they were taking advantage of
his absence to play with louis instead of five franc pieces. When Hugh
saw them lose five louis, he shook his head in mock warning, but they
were too engrossed to notice him. Their faces were flushed, their
eyes excited. He saw Mrs. Calderbrook take a bill of five hundred
francs from her purse and change it into red chips. He was wondering
if she was going to risk it all at one time, when his attention was
distracted; his own moment to play had come.
The even numbers had been up eight times running; then there had been
a break to the odd; then another even. This was his chance. He put a
louis on the odd. He lost. He put another louis on the odd. Again he
lost. This time he was rather pleased, for it was his buffer stake, and
if he had won he would have been where he started. He settled down to
his defence. He put three louis on the odd. A loss. He increased it to
six. Again a loss. It was beginning to be interesting. Only once before
had he gotten so far in his progression. Still with calm assurance he
put twelve louis on the odd. Curiously enough the number twelve came
up. Lost! Then quite suddenly all his confidence deserted him. He began
to get frightened. He fumbled in his pockets. The next stake was to be
twenty-five louis. Quick! the ball was already spinning. He handed a
note for five hundred francs to the croupier.
“Impair....”
Then he heard the monotonous cry of the spinner: “_Numero deux, pair,
noir et manque._”
It was incredible, a conspiracy against him. It seemed as if the odd
numbers had ceased to exist. He was down to his last stake, fifty-two
louis. As he threw it on the table a strange recklessness surged up
in him, the irresponsibility that takes hold of the gambler and makes
him risk his last dollar on the spin. He had a miserable moment of
suspense, then with a nonchalant air the spinner twitched away the
ball. _Number twenty_....
He had lost everything. He was dazed. The great Hall of Light seemed to
be full of dark shadows, and the faces of those around him touched with
mockery. He was turning to go when a hand gripped his arm. He beheld at
his elbow the contumelious countenance of Mr. Gimp.
“How much d’ye want?” snapped the little man, opening a large
pocket-book.
“Nothing. I’ve lost everything. Broke! Couldn’t pay you if I borrowed.”
“How much d’ye _want_?”
Hugh scarcely knew what he was saying. “I’ve lost two thousand. I’d
probably win it back this time if I could go on. It can’t always keep
coming even.”
“Here, take this two thousand.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Take it, I say.”
Hugh took the notes and threw them on the impair just as the ball was
slackening its spin. “_Numero treize, noir, impair et manque._”
He had won at last. He took from the table the four thousand francs,
and returned Mr. Gimp his two bills, saying:
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I know I shouldn’t.”
“Well, I don’t know how to thank you. You saved me. But there.... Bang
goes my system.”
“Mighty good job, too. Your system was no use. You were playing against
a phenomenon. Don’t you see the phenomenon was lying in wait for you,
and sooner or later you were going to go up against it. Bah! this
rotten place. Let’s go into the atrium and have a smoke. When I see
these fools all crazy over that rotten wheel I am ashamed of the human
race.”
Sitting on her usual seat near the door was the Emslie girl; she seemed
very tired and started up every time any one came out.
“There!” said Mr. Gimp fiercely, “just look at that kid. Should be in
her bed hours ago. Waiting for her fool of a mother who is playing like
the devil in the _salon privé_. If you were to open that woman’s head
you’d find a roulette wheel instead of a brain.”
As Hugh left the Casino the night air seemed delicious. The moon was
now perfect in shape,--a moon worthy even of Monte Carlo, dappling the
oily swell of the harbour with pools of playful quicksilver. He sat on
a bench and watched it till his serenity returned.
When at last he entered their room, the lamp was turned very low and
behind the grey curtain that divided them he heard the girl breathing
gently.
2.
After breakfast next morning, Hugh sat figuring over his green book of
permanencies. Finally he said:
“See here, Margot, I think I’ll have to change my system.”
“Why, what’s the matter with it?”
“Well ... you see I have to walk about so much between the tables. It
tires me out.”
“I thought you didn’t like to ‘win too easily’?”
“Oh, I don’t mind not winning easily.”
“Ah! you’ve been losing.”
“No, I haven’t. My capital’s intact and I have five hundred francs of
gain. But ... well, I’m tired of it. I want a change.”
“What are you going to try now?”
“I call it a pattern system. You see I set the bank a task....”
“I _don’t_ see.”
“Look here then. Look at this diagram.”
[Illustration]
“These figures represent the dozens arranged in three columns. They
form a certain pattern, a pattern of seven. Now I sit comfortably at
a table (no more walking for me), and take down numbers, arranging
both the dozens and columns in three rows. When my figures begin to
accumulate, I look back to see if I cannot find a coincidence between
the pattern I am making, and the one that has gone before. When I find
this, and the pattern duplicates as far as the sixth figure I simply
bet that it won’t go as far as the seventh. That is to say, suppose I
get a second set of figures similar to those I have set down here as
far as the sixth, I simply bet against the repetition of the last. Am I
clear?”
“Not very,--but I understand.”
“What do you think of it?”
“Fantastic.”
“Not at all. I am defying the bank to repeat the same combination of
dozens or columns in a comparatively short space of time. The odds
are overwhelmingly in my favour. You see in this game one has certain
advantages over the bank. One can choose one’s moment to enter, and
one can retire when one wants. Also one can make a progression.”
“Are you making one?”
“Yes, I begin by putting a hundred francs between the two dozens on
which I am betting. If that should fail, I will increase to three
hundred francs, and then if necessary to a thousand. In the first two
cases I win fifty francs, in the third a hundred. I would always bet,
of course, against the corresponding dozen or column of the combination
I am following. In short, to finally beat me the bank needs to produce
a coincidence of nine. That, you must admit, is extraordinary.”
“It is a game of the devil. Anything may happen.”
“Well, I’m going to get four wins a day. That will mean two hundred
francs. At that rate in about ten days I will have your two thousand
francs, and you can go back to Paris and start your little shop.”
“You seem in a hurry to get rid of me.”
“No, it’s not that.... But you know we can’t go on like this
indefinitely. It would look queer. I have to think of your reputation.”
“Don’t bother about my reputation. As for your own, and the opinion of
your friends ... well, I am very discreet, am I not? We never go out
together.”
“No, no one need ever know. And after all we have nothing to reproach
ourselves with. We’re playing the game like two good pals. Our
consciences are clear.”
He let the matter drop there; but the question of Margot’s future
worried him. He knew he would always be interested in her, and that it
would hurt him if any ill befell her; he was beginning to think of her
as if she were really his sister.
3.
Hugh found his new system absorbing, but very fatiguing. Looking back
through rows of figures for coinciding groups was something of a mental
strain. When, however, his opportunity came to play, he did so with
calm certitude. In no instance was he beaten. It seemed as if the
powers of correspondence exhausted themselves after the sixth term.
Sitting snugly at one of the tables with pencil and note-book, he would
lose all sense of his surroundings. He was alone with the wheel; the
rest was a dream. Vaguely he was aware of players reaching over his
shoulders, and of the monotonous voices of bored croupiers. Sometimes a
dispute would arouse him from his distraction and amuse him a little;
but though he often could have settled it, he never “butted in.” It
was none of his business. Also he never handed any one their winnings.
The one time when he had done so he had handed to the wrong person.
Fortunately it had been only a question of ten francs and the bank had
promptly paid a second time. After that, however, when people asked him
to pass money he gave them a rake and let them get it for themselves.
During the long hours at the table Hugh entered into conversation with
his various neighbours, and made many of these gambling acquaintances
so easily made, so easily unmade. Roulette is a destroyer of reserve;
its courtesies mean nothing, and people who chat at the table, when
they meet afterwards on the terrace, stare frigidly.
Of these acquaintances the only one with whom he became in any way
friendly was a one-legged Irishman with red hair, Major Fitzoswald. He
played a dashing game, always building around the number thirty-two.
When he won he won heavily; but more often he lost. He had a jolly
little wife and four children, ranging from a baby to a girl of seven;
and when he had finished gambling in the afternoon, he would hobble out
of the Casino on his crutches and join them in the sand pit near the
dove-cot. It was said that he had lost his leg in a glorious action on
the Somme front.
One day Hugh was amazed to see Mr. Gimp actually playing. The little
man was standing erect and business-like at the _trente-et-quarante_
table opposite the American millionairess. She had a tiny mannikin in
front of her as a mascot. On one finger was an immense diamond, and
around her neck glimmered a double string of superb pearls. Her blonde
beauty suggested pearls; and her wide-set blue eyes, mobile mouth and
very strong white teeth made her look like a happy child. Every time
she played Mr. Gimp would play on the opposite chance. But while the
honey-coloured beauty threw on heaps of placques, now rising to rose,
now dropping to azure, Mr. Gimp played only a modest louis. Behind his
hand he whispered to Hugh:
“This is the best system of all. It’s known as ‘playing the corpse.’
You get opposite a big player and play the contrary. When they have to
make a progression, you win on all its terms. It goes without saying
they’re dead ones from the start. The Casino will get their money.
You’re playing on the side of the Casino, that’s all. And while the
Casino is taking big risks, you are taking small ones. ‘Playing the
corpse,’--it’s the only sure system I know. It’s a shame to take the
money. You know I hate gambling like hell; but if there’s easy money
lying round a man’s a damn fool if he don’t pick it up.”
When Hugh returned late in the afternoon the beautiful American was
still playing, and opposite her, methodically putting on his single
louis, was the pertinacious Mr. Gimp.
4.
One day Hugh arrived home for luncheon looking exultantly happy. The
table was neatly set, and the girl was in the little cabinet where she
cooked.
“Hurrah! Margot. I’ve got something for you.”
“I can’t come for a minute. I’m cooking two soles I bought in the
market. I saw you coming, so I put them on.”
“All right. How jolly the place looks. How nice you keep everything.
We’ll both be sorry to leave it.”
The girl turned suddenly. Her voice trembled.
“Leave it! Why?”
“Hang it, one can’t stay here always. I’m feeling stronger than ever I
did in my life. I want to get out and do things. And you?”
“I’ve never been so happy as I’ve been here.”
“I really believe I can say the same. It’s been awfully jolly. What a
pity all pleasant things must end! We both have the future to face. But
I’ll take care you have your share of happiness. That’s why I’m giving
you this....”
“What is it?”
“Look out. The fish is burning. Finish frying and you’ll see.”
He threw an envelope on her plate, and she went back to the little
gas-stove. He watched her with pleasure. She was so slim and trim in
her pink apron, with her hair massed in shining coils round her head.
She had so much of it that she scarcely knew what to do with it. He
liked her eyes, too. They were a brave, sympathetic blue. Her face was
English in its open frankness. It was wonderful how she had changed.
A softness had replaced her sharp lines and the hollows had become
curves. Her mouth had lost its hopeless look, and was now tenderly
sweet.... He almost regretted what he was going to do. Well, she would
always be his little sister; he would never lose sight of her.
She brought the fish and potatoes, and sat down. As she took up the
envelope he watched her eagerly. She opened it and drew out two crisp
bills for a thousand francs each. Her face grew pale.
“What’s this?” she faltered.
“It’s yours,” he exulted. “I had a splendid morning. Got two hundred
francs ever so easily. Now that I’ve made up the sum you need, you can
start for Paris to-morrow if you like.”
She pushed the money away from her.
“I don’t want it. It’s yours. I can’t take it.”
“What? Why, I won it for you! It was for you I gambled; for you I
risked my capital. It’s given me the rarest pleasure doing this for
you; now you mustn’t spoil all by refusing.”
“But I do refuse,” she cried fiercely. “It’s your money. How can I take
it?”
“Oh, rot! You’ll make me cross in a minute. Granted it was an absurd
idea on my part to make the Casino pay you back this money, what
else was there to do? I couldn’t leave you in the hole. I had to do
something for you. This way appealed to me as being both original and
amusing. Come now ... if you like, consider it a loan, you can pay
me back some day. There! It’s the solution of all your difficulties.
It will establish you,--perhaps be the beginning of a modest
fortune. Think of that bright little bonnet-shop on the Boulevard du
Montparnasse. How happy you’ll be there. And I’ll come and see you....”
“If I take it as a loan, will you stop gambling?”
“Oh, come now, that’s absurd. Why should I? It really amuses me very
much and I’m sure to win. The Casino owes me a living. It’s like a bank
from which I draw a little every day. It would be a shame to stop.”
“You’re like all the rest. I’ve seen it coming over you for some time.
You’re getting to think of nothing but roulette. You used to go for
long walks, spend your time in the open air; now you’re either in the
Rooms or working over permanencies. In the end you’ll lose everything.”
“Nonsense. I tell you I understand the game now. I can get my living at
it. It only needs prudence, patience, judgment. A man can start with
five francs and win a fortune. The great mass of the people are fools.
They play anyhow. But I tell you it takes brains to play that game.
There are the laws of chance, the calculation of probabilities.... Oh,
I know I can win. I tell you, I can win....”
“I’ve heard the others say that,” she answered scornfully. “Once I
thought the same. It’s all an illusion. In the end it’s ruin.”
“All right. You won’t take that money?”
“No.”
He was angry. He wanted to shake her. The air was charged with
hostility. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You’ve made me feel like a fool.”
Rising he left the house. The two little crisp soles remained untasted
on their plates.
CHAPTER FOUR
SHIFTS AND STRESSES
1.
In his irritation and perplexity, he went for a long walk by the shore.
“Confound the girl!” he thought. “What right has she to be so proud!
Pride is for those who can afford it. There she was, sick, desperate,
without one _sou_. I saved her from goodness knows what. And now,
behold! When she ought to be humble, she throws up her head, turns
independent, refuses my further help....”
With his stick he switched savagely at a clump of geraniums that
stained a villa wall.
“Confounded fool that I was ever to have anything to do with her. These
sudden quixotic impulses! They always lead to trouble. Damn! It was
none of my business. Who could have blamed me if I had let her go her
own way? And yet ... that would have worried me enormously. Her own
way! What would it have been? I’d hate to think of any harm coming to
her. No, I feel I am bound to protect her....”
He sat down and stared at the sea. He watched the same wave washing
the same rock it had washed for centuries. Its monotonous persistency
soothed his spirit.
“After all, she’s a jolly, good little sort. She’s made me feel a
fool, though. She knew all along I was only gambling for her sake. She
might have let me know she wouldn’t take the money. Maybe the whole
idea was silly, sentimental.... No, it wasn’t. It was a good sporting
proposition. Any other chap would have done it. Besides, it amused me.
I got all the reward I wanted in the fun of winning. I made gambling a
virtue instead of a vice. I played the knight-errant fighting for the
fair lady with chips for a weapon and a roulette table for the field of
battle.”
He felt better. He rose and began to flip flat stones over the water.
“She’s got to take the money. It’s hers. I don’t want it. Why won’t
she take it? If she had been a princess instead of a poor working girl
I could have understood. I don’t mind if she regards it as a loan.
There’s no harm in that. An honest loan. Haven’t I been decent and
honourable? Haven’t I treated her with every respect? Haven’t I been
like a brother to her? Why can’t she accept my aid? Ridiculous, I call
it. Girls are funny. Hanged if a chap can understand them....” Having
had enough of stone flipping, he lit a cigarette and resumed his seat
on the rock.
“Well, what’s to be done? The present state of affairs can’t go on
forever. I rather wish it could, though--it’s been so nice having her
there. She’s made the place so homey, looked after me so well. Don’t
think I’ve ever been so happy. But there! It would be dangerous to go
further. We have each our own way to make in the world, and our ways
don’t lie together. If she won’t take the money I must do something
else to help her. I have to go on helping her. Poor kid! She’s had a
devil of a time up to now. I’m sorry if I have hurt her feelings....
I’ll go home and make it up.”
But instead of going home he found himself drawn irresistibly to that
great “centre of depravity” (as Mr. Gimp called it), the Casino. He
was leaning moodily against one of the columns of the atrium when
the doors leading to the Opera House belched forth a weird crowd of
Monegasques.
The opera is one of Monte Carlo’s delusions, for though it is widely
advertised as one of the attractions of the place, a large proportion
of the seats are given away to the natives, those descendants of Sæacen
pirates who now plunder the visitor by modern methods. It is as if the
company that exploits the Principality, having planted the Casino in
their midst and forbidden them to enter the gambling rooms, was trying
to make up to them in other ways. The same seats are filled night after
night by swarthy folk, barbarously bedecked in flaunting finery. The
laundress or lodging-house keeper of the Condamine smirks across the
stalls at the butcher or the baker of the upper town, who, in turn,
bows deeply to the bureaucrat who lives on the Rock, and is wondering
if his dress shirt will last the season without another washing.
As Hugh watched the crowd he heard a voice suddenly address him:
“You’re not going into that monkey-show, are you?”
Looking round he saw Mrs. Belmire seated near him, holding an unlighted
cigarette. She wore a gorgeous gown of egg-yolk yellow and pea-pod
green. Under a modified Gainsborough hat, her mahogany-tinted hair
rippled over her shell-pink ears.
“Give me a light, please! I’m dying for a smoke. Just been in the Rooms
and lost fifty louis. Isn’t it silly of me? I’ve seen you playing quite
a lot lately. Have you been lucky?”
Hugh was discreet. “No, not very. I play a small game. Just for
chicken-feed.”
“Well, as long as you don’t lose, you’re lucky enough. I say, you can
take me for tea to the Café de Paris, if you like.”
Hugh was flattered. They found a place in the restaurant from which
they could watch the dancing. Mrs. Belmire looked rather stunning, and
he was proud of being her escort. They listened to the confident music,
ate chocolate cake and drank insipid tea.
“I bought two new hats to-day,” said Mrs. Belmire. “They cost a lot of
money. I’m sure when I get them home I’ll hate them. I always like to
have a pal with me, when I chose a new hat. I wish _you’d_ been with me
to help me choose.”
Hugh expressed a polite regret, with an uneasy feeling that his
privilege in such an event might not be confined to choosing. Mrs.
Belmire went on to talk about herself with an engaging frankness and
almost childlike egoism. She elaborately displayed the confidence that
is supposed to engender confidence; but Hugh was cautious.
“I suppose you’re going to the automobile show to-morrow,” she said.
“You’re crazy about cars, aren’t you? I am. When my husband was alive,
I used to drive our car myself. I drive a good deal here. My men
friends are very nice to me, and take me for such jolly spins. You must
take me some afternoon. By the way, where do you hang out now?”
“I’m living in the Condamine,” said Hugh vaguely.
“Are you? You’re lucky. I have had to give up my apartment. Lost so
much playing at the club that I had to draw in my horns. I’m now
staying at an Italian pension on the sea front,--Pizzicato’s. It’s very
nice. The cooking’s Italian. To-day we had eels for lunch; I didn’t
know they were eels till I had finished, or else I don’t believe I
should have enjoyed them so much. You must lunch with me some day. I
had General Jenkinson yesterday. You don’t know him, do you?”
“No, I don’t think I do,” said Hugh with a doubtful inflection.
“Delightful man. Oh, I say, my friend who looks so like you, Paul
Vulning, is on his way here. You’ll probably meet him.”
All the time she talked--and it was principally of herself--Hugh could
see that she was trying to find out more about him. For his part it
pleased him to baffle her. Her manner was breezy, her voice ringing;
he liked her, and judging by the smiling regard in her nut-brown eyes
she liked him. It was nearly seven o’clock when she said: “There now,
you’ve been awfully decent to me. Perhaps, you wouldn’t mind driving me
to my hotel.”
Hugh called a voiture and accompanied her to the Pension Pizzicato. At
the door she held his hand.
“I say, if you aren’t very comfortable where you’re staying, why not
come here? I wish you would. There’s such a nice room next mine, and
not too dear. Do say you’ll take it.”
Hugh hesitated. “I’ll think over it.”
“Yes, do. And I say,--won’t you lunch with me to-morrow?”
“I’m afraid I can’t. I’ve got a friend coming to see me.”
“Bring your friend, too. Tell him you know a very jolly Englishwoman
you would like him to meet.”
“I’ll see. I’ll ask my friend.”
She shook his hand warmly. So as not to look cheap he took the voiture
back. It cost him twenty francs, which with the thirty francs for tea
made fifty.
“A charming woman,” he thought, “but expensive,--damned expensive. I
mustn’t cultivate her.”
2.
He had dinner at Quinto’s Restaurant. He knew that Margot would be
waiting for him at home, but his meeting with Mrs. Belmire had made him
a little arrogant. He resolved to give the girl a lesson.
“Let her worry,” he said to himself; “it will do her good.”
After dinner he had intended to take a walk, but the Casino drew
him like a magnet. Good old Casino! So friendly, so inviting, so
generous. Down the long, pansy-patterned sward of the garden, between
the proud palms he could see its portico, goldenly aglow. The big
yellow hotel-bus from Cap D’Ail dashed up to the door, small figures
in evening dress got out and mounted the seven carpeted steps. He
was conscious suddenly that he, too, wanted to play. Yes, more than
anything in the world he wanted to gamble.
More brilliant than ever seemed the “Hall of Light.” Nearly all the men
were in evening dress. Perhaps it was the influence of Mrs. Belmire,
but for the first time Hugh felt out of place in his serge suit.
“I must get a dinner jacket,” he thought, “and all that goes with it.”
Then came a second thought: “Why not make the bank buy me one? If I can
win a thousand francs! By Gad! I’ll try it.”