UNCLE AND NEPHEW
Luigi had telegraphed to his uncle by which train he should travel, and
the Captain met him at the terminus. Sir Gilbert’s cheque had already
been cashed, and uncle and nephew now proceeded to lay in a small but
sufficient supply of travelling necessaries. After that they dined at a
French restaurant and finished up the evening at a music-hall.
Next day they crossed to Antwerp, from which place Luigi wrote a few
lines to Sir Gilbert from a rough draft furnished him by the Captain.
“My dear Grandfather,—We reached here from Harwich early this morning.
We are staying over till to-morrow at my wish, there being many objects
of interest in this memorable old city which I have long been desirous
of seeing. This forenoon we visited the cathedral and two of the more
celebrated churches, in each of which we found much to interest us. The
afternoon was devoted to the so-called museum, where is a celebrated
collection of paintings, including several by Rubens and other
well-known masters of the Dutch school. I need scarcely say that we
were highly gratified.
“We start by an early train to-morrow for Bâle, which we purpose making
our head-quarters. We shall, however, if we find the trains convenient,
break our journey for a couple of hours at Cologne in order to visit
the Dom, which I feel sure you would not like me to miss seeing.”
Within an hour of posting the foregoing letter uncle and nephew were on
their way to Brussels, although it was one of the two places specified
by Sir Gilbert which he was desirous that his grandson should not
visit.
It was not the first time the Captain had been there, and of such an
agreeable kind were the recollections he retained of it that he had
felt irresistibly tempted to visit it again. The fact was that on the
occasion of his previous visit he had left the city richer by
twenty-five pounds than he had entered it, that being the amount of his
winnings after a couple of nights at the gaming-table. Trifling though
such a sum might seem to many people, to the impecunious Captain it
represented a very substantial and satisfactory gain. Thus it was
scarcely to be wondered at, now he found himself in the neighbourhood
and in the possession of ample funds, that a great longing should come
over him to tempt fortune in the same way again. He would only risk a
small sum, so that if he should prove so unfortunate as to lose it, no
great harm would be done, while, if he should be lucky enough to double
or treble it, his winnings would help to clear off some of his more
pressing liabilities when he should get back to town. It was
unfortunate that he was not in a position to prosecute his little
adventure alone, but where he went Luigi must of necessity go too—not,
as he presently found when he broached the subject, that his nephew
needed more than a hint to cause him to exhibit an almost absurd amount
of eagerness to follow his worthy relative’s example.
Thus it came to pass that about nine o’clock that same evening uncle
and nephew, without any further introduction than a few whispered words
between the Captain and the man on guard at the door, were at once
admitted to the self-styled club or _cercle_ (which, in reality,
differed scarcely, if at all, from a common gambling haunt), of which
the Captain retained such pleasing recollections. It had been agreed
that on no account should they risk more than twenty-five pounds
between them, out of which the Captain, as being the more experienced
of the two, took fifteen for his share, leaving Luigi the remaining
ten.
Soon after midnight the Captain perforce stopped playing for lack of
funds. His fifteen pounds had vanished to the last franc; but, on the
other hand, singular to relate in view of his inexperience, Luigi rose
from the table a winner to the extent of fourteen pounds. Captain
Verinder at once decided that next morning should see them _en route_
for Bâle.
But it was not to be. While taking an after-breakfast stroll—he had
decided not to start till the midday train—the Captain encountered a
man who, a few years before, had been one of his most intimate friends.
This person, Tyars by name, was now settled in Brussels and in a good
position, and nothing would satisfy him but that Verinder and his
nephew must dine and spend the evening at his house, an arrangement to
which, after a little demur, the Captain agreed.
As it fell out, however, he was compelled to go alone, Luigi, in the
course of the afternoon, being seized with one of the violent sick
headaches to which he had been subject at times ever since he could
remember. His uncle left him prostrate on a couch in a darkened room.
But for once the usually astute and suspicious Captain had been
thoroughly hoodwinked. Scarcely had he disappeared before Luigi sat up,
chuckling softly to himself. He was bent on a little adventure of his
own in which his uncle should have neither part nor parcel. The demon
of gambling had got him in his grip, and Luigi lent a willing ear to
his enticements. He had won fourteen pounds last night, why should he
not win forty, eighty, a hundred to-night? He could see no reason
whatever why he should not.
In the big solid-leather portmanteau which held both his uncle’s
clothes and his own was stored away a little roll of bank-notes of the
value of one hundred pounds, the same being part of the proceeds of Sir
Gilbert’s cheque. Luigi’s intention was to abstract a couple or three
five-pound notes and with them, in addition to his overnight winnings,
to try his luck at the _cercle_ for the second time. He had opened the
portmanteau and the roll of notes was in his fingers, when he was
startled by the sound of voices, one of which he took to be his
uncle’s, in the corridor outside. In an instant he had shut down the
lid of the portmanteau and crammed, the notes into his pocket. The
alarm proved to be a false one, but Luigi, having taken possession of
the whole of the notes, saw no reason why he should put any of them
back. After all, they were his property and not his uncle’s; besides,
although he might take them with him to the _cercle_, he was fully
determined not to risk more than the sum he had originally fixed on: it
was a determination from which nothing should move him. How his uncle
would open his eyes in the morning at beholding his nephew’s overnight
winnings scattered carelessly on the dressing-table!
Captain Verinder opened his eyes very wide indeed when, on entering his
nephew’s room some time after midnight, he found Luigi pacing it,
wild-eyed, haggard, with clenched hands, tumbled hair and rumpled
clothes, like a man half distraught. He had come back from the gaming
table penniless. In the excitement of play, all his fine resolutions
had vanished like chaff before the wind. He had gone on losing madly,
recklessly, till not only had the hundred pounds gone, but his previous
night’s winnings and whatever else he had had in his purse to boot.
Well might the Captain when, bit by bit, the truth had been dragged
out, sit down and stare at him in blank dismay. No words at his command
could have expressed more than a tithe of what he felt.