THE POINT OF HONOR
"Tell me, friend Castleton," said Pembroke, banteringly, "art still
adhering to thy country drink of lamb's-wool? Methinks burnt ale and
toasted apple might better be replaced in thy case by a beaker of
stronger waters. You lose, and still you lose."
"May a plague take it!" cried Castleton. "I've had no luck these four
days. 'Tis that cursed lap-dog of the duchess. Ugh! I saw it in my
dreams last night."
"Gad! your own fortune in love must be ill enough, Sir Arthur," said
Beau Wilson, as he pushed back his chair during this little lull in the
play of the evening.
"And tell me why, Beau?"
"Because of us all who have met here at the Green Lion these last
months, not one hath ever had so steady a run of luck. Sure some fairy
hath befriended thee. _Sept et le va, sept et le va_--I'll hear it in my
ears to-night, even as Castleton sees the lap-dog. Man, you play as
though you read the pack quite through."
"Ah, then, you admit that there is some such thing as a talisman. I'll
not deny that I have had one these last three evenings, but I feared to
tell ye all, lest I might be waylaid and robbed of my good-luck charm."
"Tell us, tell us, man, what it is!" cried Castleton. "_Sept et le va_
has not been made in this room before for many a month, yet here thou
comest with the run of _sept et le va_ thrice in as many hours."
"Well, then," continued Pembroke, still smiling, "I'll make a small
confession. Here is my charm. Salute it!"
He cast on the table the Indian moccasin which had been shown the same
party at the Green Lion a few evenings before. Eager hands reached for
it.
"Treachery!" cried Castleton. "I bid Du Mesne four pounds for the shoe
myself."
"Oh ho!" said Pembroke, "so you too were after it. Well, the long purse
won, as it doth ever. I secretly gave our wandering wood ranger,
ex-galley slave of France, the neat sum of twenty-five pounds for this
little shoe. Poor fellow, he liked ill enough to part with it; but he
said, very sensibly, that the twenty-five pounds would take him back to
Canada, and once there, he could not only get many such shoes, but see
the maid who made this one for him, or, rather, made it for herself. As
for me, the price was cheap. You could not replace it in all the
Exchange for any money. Moreover, to show my canniness, I've won back
its cost a score of times this very night."
He laughingly extended his hand for the moccasin, which Wilson was
examining closely.
"'Tis clever made," said the latter. "And what a tale the owner of it
carried. If half he says be true, we do ill to bide here in old England.
Let us take ship and follow Monsieur du Mesne."
"'Twould be a long chase, mayhap," said Pembroke, reflectively. Yet each
of the men at that little table in the gaming room of the Green Lion
coffee-house ceased in his fingering the cards, and gazed upon this
product of another world.
Pembroke was first to break the silence, and as he heard a footfall at
the door, he called out:
"Ho, fellow! Go fetch me another bottle of Spanish, and do not forget
this time the brandy and water which I told thee to bring half an hour
ago."
The step came nearer, and as it did not retreat, but entered the room,
Pembroke called out again: "Make haste, man, and go on!"
The footsteps paused, and Pembroke looked up, as one does when a strange
presence comes into the room. He saw, standing near the door, a tall and
comely young man, whose carriage betokened him not ill-born. The
stranger advanced and bowed gravely. "Pardon me, sir," he said, "but I
fear I am awkward in thus intruding. The man showed me up the stair and
bade me enter. He said that I should find here Sir Arthur Pembroke, upon
whom I bear letters from friends of his in the North."
"Sir," said Pembroke, rising and advancing, "you are very welcome, and I
ask pardon for my unwitting speech."
"I come at this hour and at this place," said the newcomer, "for reasons
which may seem good a little later. My name is John Law, of Edinboro',
sir."
All those present arose.
"Sir," responded Pembroke, "I am delighted to have your name. I know of
the acquaintance between your father and my own. These are friends of
mine, and I am delighted to name ye to each other. Mr. Charles
Castleton; Mr. Edward Wilson. We are all here to kill the ancient enemy,
Time. 'Tis an hour of night when one gains an appetite for one thing or
another, cards or cold joint. I know not why we should not have a bit of
both?"
"With your permission, I shall be glad to join ye at either," said John
Law. "I have still the appetite of a traveler--in faith, rather a better
appetite than most travelers may claim, for I swear I've had no more to
eat the last day and night than could be purchased for a pair of
shillings."
Pembroke raised his eyebrows, scarce knowing whether to be amused at
this speech or nettled by its cool assurance.
"Some ill fortune?"--he began politely.
"There is no such thing as ill fortune," quoth John Law. "We fail always
of our own fault. Forsooth I must explore Roman roads by night. England
hath builded better, and the footpads have the Roman ways. My brother
Will--he waiteth below, if ye please, good friends, and is quite as
hungry as myself, besides having a pricked finger to boot--and I lost
what little we had about us, and we came through with scarce a good
shirt between the two."
A peal of laughter greeted him as he pulled apart the lapels of his coat
and showed ruffles torn and disfigured. The speaker smiled gravely.
"To-morrow," said he, "I must seek me out a goldsmith and a haberdasher,
if you will be so good as to name such to me."
"Sir," said Sir Arthur Pembroke, "in this plight you must allow me." He
extended a purse which he drew from his pocket. "I beg you, help
yourself."
"Thank you, no," replied John Law. "I shall ask you only to show me the
goldsmith in the morning, him upon whom I hold certain credits. I make
no doubt that then I shall be quite fit again. I have never in my life
borrowed a coin. Besides, I should feel that I had offended my good
angel did I ask it to help me out of mine own folly. If we have but a
bit of this cold joint, and a place for my brother Will to sit in
comfort as we play, I shall beg to hope, my friends, that I shall be
allowed to stake this trifle against a little of the money that I see
here; which, I take it, is subject to the fortunes of war."
He tossed on the board a ring, which carried in its setting a diamond of
size and brilliance.
"This fellow hath a cool assurance enough," muttered Beau Wilson to his
neighbor as he leaned toward him at the table.
Pembroke, always good-natured, laughed at the effrontery of the
newcomer.
"You say very well; it is there for the fortune of war," said he. "It is
all yours, if you can win it; but I warn you, beware, for I shall have
your jewel and your letters of credit too, if ye keep not sharp watch."
"Yes," said Castleton, "Pembroke hath warrant for such speech. The man
who can make _sept et le va_ thrice in one evening is hard company for
his friends."
John Law leaned back comfortably in his chair.
"I make no doubt," said he, "that I shall make _trente et le va_, here
at this table, this very evening."
Smiles and good-natured sneerings met this calm speech.
"_Trente et le va_--it hath not come out in the history of London play
for the past four seasons!" cried Wilson. "I'll lay you any odds that
you're not within eye-sight of _trente et le va_ these next five
evenings, if you favor us with your company."
"Be easy with me, good friends," said John. Law, calmly. "I am not yet
in condition for individual wagers, as my jewel is my fortune, till
to-morrow at least. But if ye choose to make the play at Lands-knecht, I
will plunge at the bank to the best of my capital. Then, if I win, I
shall be blithe to lay ye what ye like."
The young Englishmen sat looking at their guest with some curiosity. His
strange assurance daunted them.
"Surely this is a week of wonders," said Beau Wilson, with scarce
covered sarcasm in his tone. "First we have a wild man from Canada, with
his fairy stories of gold and gems, and now we have another gentleman
who apparently hath fathomed as well how to gain sudden wealth at will,
and yet keep closer home."
Law took snuff calmly. "I am not romancing, gentlemen," said he. "With
me play is not a hazard, but a science. I ought really not to lay on
even terms with you. As I have said, there is no such thing as chance.
There are such things as recurrences, such things as laws that govern
all happenings."
Laughter arose again at this, though it did not disturb the newcomer,
nor did the cries of derision which followed his announcement of his
system.
"Many a man hath come to London town with a system of play," cried
Pembroke. "Tell us, Mr. Law, what and where shall we send thee when we
have won thy last sixpence?"
"Good sir," said Law, "let us first of all have the joint."
"I humbly crave a pardon, sir," said Pembroke. "In this new sort of
discourse I had forgot thine appetite. We shall mend that at once. Here,
Simon! Go fetch up Mr. Law's brother, who waits below, and fetch two
covers and a bit to eat. Some of thy new Java berry, too, and make
haste! We have much yet to do."
"That have ye, if ye are to see the bottom of my purse more than once,"
said Law gaily. "See! 'tis quite empty now. I make ye all my solemn
promise that 'twill not be empty again for twenty years. After
that--well, the old Highland soothsayer, who dreamed for me, always told
me to forswear play after I was forty, and never to go too near running
water. Of the latter I was born with a horror. For play, I was born with
a gift. Thus I foresee that this little feat which you mention is sure
to be mine this very night. You all say that _trente_ has not come up
for many months. Well, 'tis due, and due to-night. The cards never fail
me when I need."
"By my faith," cried Wilson, "ye have a pretty way about you up in
Scotland!"
John Law saw the veiled ill feeling, and replied at once:
"True, we have a pretty way. We had it at Killiecrankie not so long ago;
and when the clans fight among themselves, we need still prettier ways."
"Now, gentlemen," said Pembroke, "none of this talk, by your leave. The
odds are fairer here than they were at Killiecrankie's battle, and 'tis
all of us against the Scotch again. We English stand together, but we
stand to-night only against this threat of the ultimate fortune of the
cards. Moreover, here comes the supper, and if I mistake not, also the
brother of our friend."
Will bowed to one and the other gentlemen, unconsciously drifting toward
his brother's chair.
"Now we must to business," cried Castleton, as the dishes were at last
cleared away. "Show him thy talisman, Pem, and let him kiss his jewel
good by."
Pembroke threw upon the table once more the moccasin of the Indian girl.
John Law picked it up and examined it long and curiously, asking again
and again searching questions regarding its origin.
"I have read of this new land of America," said he. "Some day it will be
more prominent in all plans."
He laid down the slipper and mused for a moment, apparently forgetful of
the scene about him.
"Perhaps," cried Castleton, the zeal of the gambler now showing in his
eye. "But let us make play here to-night. Let Pembroke bank. His luck is
best to win this vaunter's stake."
Pembroke dealt the cards about for the first round. The queen fell. John
Law won. "_Deux_," he said calmly, and turned away as though it were a
matter of course. The cards went round again. "_Trois_," he said, as he
glanced at his stakes, now doubled again.
Wilson murmured. "Luck's with him for a start," said he, "but 'tis a
long road." He himself had lost at the second turn. "_Quint_!" "_Seix_!"
"_Sept et le va_!" in turn called Law, still coolly, still regarding with
little interest the growing heap of coin upon the board opposite the
glittering ring which he had left lying on the table.
"_Vingt-un, et le va_!"
"Good God!" cried Castleton, the sweat breaking out upon his forehead.
"See the fellow's luck!--Pembroke, sure he hath stole thy slipper. Such
a run of cards was never seen in this room since Rigby, of the Tenth,
made his great game four years ago."
"_Vingt-cinq; et le va_!" said John Law, calmly.
Will touched his sleeve. The stake had now grown till the money on the
hoard meant a matter of hundreds of pounds, which might he removed at
any turn the winner chose. It was there but for the stretching out of
the hand. Yet this strange genius sat there, scarce deigning to smile at
the excited faces of those about him.
"I'll lay thee fifty to one that the next turn sees thee lose!" cried
Castleton.
"Done," said John Law.
The iciness in the air seemed now an actual thing. There was, in the
nature of this play, something which no man at that board, hardened
gamesters as they all were, had ever met before. It was indeed as though
Fate were there, with her hand upon the shoulder of a favored son.
"You lose, Mr. Castleton," said Law, calmly, as the cards came again his
way. He swept his winnings from the coin pushed out to him.
"Now we have thee, Mr. Law!" cried Pembroke. "One more turn, and I hope
your very good nerve will leave the stake on the board, for so we'll see
it all come back to the bank, even as the sheep come home at eventide.
Here your lane turns. And 'tis at the last stage, for the next is the
limit of the rules of the game. But you'll not win it."
"Anything you like for a little personal wager," said the other, with no
excitement in his voice.
"Why, then, anything you like yourself, sir," said Pembroke.
"Your little slipper against fifty pounds?" asked John Law.
"Why--yes--," hesitated Pembroke, for the moment feeling a doubt of the
luck that had favored him so long that evening. "I'd rather make it
sovereigns, but since you name the slipper, I even make it so, for I
know there is but one chance in hundreds that you win."
The players leaned over the table as the deal went on. Once, twice,
thrice, the cards went round. A sigh, a groan, a long breath broke from
those who looked at the deal. Neither groan nor sigh came from John Law.
He gazed indifferently at the heap of coin and paper that lay on the
table, and which, by the law of play, was now his own.
"_Trente et le va_," he said. "I knew that it would come. Sir Arthur, I
half regret to rob thee thus, but I shall ask my slipper in hand paid.
Pardon me, too, if I chide thee for risking it in play. Gentlemen, there
is much in this little shoe, empty as it is."
He dandled it upon his finger, hardly looking at the winnings that lay
before him. "'Tis monstrous pretty, this little shoe," he said, rousing
himself from his half reverie.
"Confound thee, man!" cried Castleton, "that is the only thing we
grudge. Of sovereigns there are plenty at the coinage--but of a shoe
like this, there is not the equal this day in England!"
"So?" laughed Law. "Well, consider, 'tis none too easy to make the run
of _trente_. Risk hath its gains, you know, by all the original laws of
earth and nature."
"But heard you not the wager which was proposed over the little shoe?"
broke in Castleton. "Wilson, here, was angered when I laid him odds that
there was but one woman in London could wear this shoe. I offered him
odds that his good friend, Kittie Lawrence--"
"Nor had ye the right to offer such bet!" cried Wilson, ruffled by the
doings of the evening.
"I'll lay you myself there's no woman in England whom you know with foot
small enough to wear it," cried Castleton.
"Meaning to me?" asked Law, politely.
"To any one," cried Castleton, quickly, "but most to thee, I fancy,
since 'tis now thy shoe!"
"I'll lay you forty crowns, then, that I know a smaller foot than that
of Madam Lawrence," said Law, suavely. "I'll lay you another forty
crowns that I'll try it on for the test, though I first saw the lady
this very morning. I'll lay you another forty crowns that Madam Lawrence
can not wear this shoe, though her I have never seen."
These words rankled, though they were said offhand and with the license
of coffee-house talk at so late an hour. Beau Wilson rose, in a somewhat
unsteady attitude, and, turning towards Law, addressed him with a tone
which left small option as to its meaning.
"Sirrah!" cried he, "I know not who you are, but I would have a word or
two of good advice for you!"
"Sir, I thank you," said John Law, "but perhaps I do not need advice."
He did not rise from his seat.
"Have it then at any rate, and be civil!" cried the older man. "You seem
a swaggering sort, with your talk of love and luck, and such are sure to
get their combs cut early enough here among Englishmen. I'll not
tolerate your allusion to a lady you have never met, and one I honor
deeply, sir, deeply!"
"I am but a young man started out to seek his fortune," said John Law,
his eye kindling now for the first time, "and I should do very ill if I
evaded that fortune, whatsoever it may be."
"Then you'll take back that talk of Mrs. Lawrence!"
"I have made no talk of Mrs. Lawrence, sir," said Law, "and even had I,
I should take back nothing for a demand like yours. 'Tis not meet, sir,
where no offense was meant, to crowd in an offensive remark."
Pembroke said nothing. The situation was ominous enough at this point. A
sudden gravity and dignity fell upon the young men who sat there,
schooled in an etiquette whose first lesson was that of personal
courage.
"Sirrah!" cried Beau Wilson, "I perceive your purpose. If you prove good
enough to name lodgings where you may he found by my friends, I shall
ask leave to bid you a very good night."
So speaking, Wilson flung out of the room. A silence fell upon those
left within.
"Sirs," said Law, a moment later, "I beg you to bear witness that this
is no matter of my seeking or accepting. This gentleman is a stranger to
me. I hardly got his name fair."
"Wilson is his name, sir," said Pembroke, "a very good friend of us all.
He is of good family, and doth keep his coach-and-four like any
gentleman. For him we may vouch very well."
"Wilson!" cried Law, springing now to his feet. "'Tis not him known as
Beau Wilson? Why, my dear sirs, his father was friend to many of my kin
long ago. Why, sir, this is one of those to whom my mother bade me look
to get my first ways of London well laid out."
"These are some of the ways of London," said Pembroke, grimly.
"But is there no fashion in which this matter can be accommodated?"
Pembroke and Castleton looked at each other, rose and passed him, each
raising his hat and bowing courteously.
"Your servant, sir," said the one; and, "Your servant, sir," said the
other.