CHAPTER VII.

HEW'S 'MILD PLAY.'

Fotheringhame wrote promptly back to Falconer; his letter contained

the 'needful,' and some bantering advice with reference to his love

affair.

'For a man in full possession of his senses,' he wrote, 'you are

evidently far gone indeed; and if matrimony alone will cure you, and

cause thereby the loss of a thorough good fellow to the corps and the

service, why the deuce don't you propose, and turn the flank of the

cub named Hew, of whose "mild play" I would advise you to beware,

especially as écarté is a very rooking kind of game. Cut in for the

girl, if you are determined to chuck yourself away; and, if you play

your cards in love as well as the cousin does at écarté, she will

soon be nestling her blushing cheek on your waistcoat, and scratching

her dainty nose on your diamond studs.'

'How can he write thus of such a creature as Mary Montgomerie!'

muttered Falconer, indignantly.

'If she has wealth, it is all the better, as you have none,'

continued the epistle. 'And as far as name is required, a Falconer

is just as good as a Montgomerie, I suppose.'

'I am doubtful if Sir Piers shares this opinion,' thought Falconer;

but, for the future, he resolved to write no more to Fotheringhame on

the subject now growing daily nearer his heart.

'When I put on my first red coat,' continued Fotheringhame, 'I

resolved, if I married at all, to condescend to nothing less than a

young dowager duchess, a peeress in her own right, or an heiress,

beautiful as a houri; but none of these have, as yet, come in my way.'

Falconer lost no time in paying Hew, who gave back the I.O.U., and

invited him to have his revenge in a little 'mild play' that night in

his own room; and the former promised to take it if he could,

resolving the while to keep a sharp watch upon his adversary's play.

Falconer had not been without a hint concerning it from Mrs. Garth,

who took a motherly interest in him, as a young officer--more than

all, as one of her 'own Cameronians,' as she was wont to call the

corps.

'You and Hew sit up very late at night, I fear,' she remarked

incidentally; 'smoking, I suppose?'

'Yes.'

'Any play?'

'A little.'

'Take care,' she resumed softly; 'those who play with Hew often lose

and seldom win. He is such a--such a very good player; and young

men, I know, are so foolish at times.'

Had she hinted aught of this to the general?

Falconer was almost inclined to think so, as before Fotheringhame's

inclosure came, his somewhat disturbed and preoccupied air was noted

by his host, who, drawing him aside, said kindly:

'Look here, Falconer, you seem rather distrait this morning. I was

once a sub myself, and not always a jolly one; are you in want of

ammunition? If so, say the word and my purse is at your service to

any amount; and as for repayment, take your time; "it may be for

years, and it may be for ever," so far as I care, when obliging a

brother officer of my own corps.'

Thanking the kind old man from his heart, Falconer waived the

subject; and ere the small hours of the night came, he found himself

in Hew Montgomerie's room seated at a table on which were several

packs of new cards.

The guest of Sir Piers, and the secret admirer of Mary, poor Falconer

felt himself constrained to be victimised nightly in his desire to

'stand well,' as the phrase is, even with Hew: thus he veiled his

growing suspicions and dislike of the latter, who, when quite sober,

for his own purpose, and to win as much as he could from the luckless

sub--a fact and system that would have roused the wrath of Sir

Piers--also veiled, so far as he could, _his_ dislike and jealousy of

Cecil; and thus held over, _pro tem._, his intended vengeance, if his

path or purpose were crossed, though he never forgot the wicked oath

by which he had bound himself.

To lose again, as he had lost before, Falconer knew might prove his

ruin now; but he resolved to be wary, and to watch well, and though

Hew was a player accustomed to deep and sharp play for years, in

whiling away the lonely hours in an Indian bungalow far up-country,

he was destined to have his _modus operandi_ thoroughly laid bare on

this occasion.

Personally, Hew was disposed to be offensive to Falconer; but

dissembled, as he was anxious to 'rook' him a little further, and

also to mislead him with reference to his own views concerning Sir

Piers' ward. Cunning hints did much to achieve this with Cecil, and

to curb and perplex the latter, who never forgot the scene in the

avenue on the day of his arrival.

Hew began by pressing Falconer to partake of a tall and foaming glass

of brandy and soda, of which Tunley had left a supply for them on a

side-table, together with a box of havanas.

Hew's room was hung with coloured prints of the hunting field, the

paddock, and other horsey subjects, for though no horseman, as we

have said, he made up his book upon coming events and betted freely,

while his knowledge of whist and écarté was only excelled by that

which he possessed of zoology, so far as referred to rats and

badgers. But he loved to affect a 'horsey' style; thus his

mantelpiece was littered by spurs, whips, riding-gloves, and rusty

bits, and pipes, long, short, clay and briar-root; and in one corner

stood a row of boots, the leather tops of which obtained 'their

creamy tint,' as he said, 'from being rubbed with champagne and

apricot juice--a hint given him by a gentleman-jock of the Royal

Hussars.'

'As usual?' said Hew; 'écarté, I suppose?'

'Yes,' replied Falconer, as they lit their cigars; 'écarté be it.'

'By Jove! one would require four eyes to play that game.'

Falconer thought that in the present instance eight might be

advantageous.

'Five points, and two packs to facilitate the deal,' said Hew, as he

quickly shuffled the cards; Falconer cut them, and the play began.

Falconer affected what he did not feel--but very far from it--an

unusually free, easy, and careless manner; looked at the hunting

pictures hung round the room, chatted on indifferent subjects, to

lull the suspicions of Hew, and intent on verifying his own, in which

he found a very unexpected assistant in the form of Mary

Montgomerie's pet terrier Snarley, which had already become

reconciled to him--had taken even a capricious fancy for him (for

which it had been privately kicked more than once by the amiable

Hew); and now it lay coiled up at his feet, and it was while stooping

from time to time to pat the dog, that he perceived the latter come

from under the table with a card in his teeth.

All this while, Hew had been deeply intent on the points and

counters. He had, however, allowed Falconer, as a lure, no doubt, to

win four games successively, and as many sovereigns, when he suddenly

proposed to increase the stakes to five pounds.

'Agreed,' said Falconer, almost to the other's surprise, he did it so

readily; and the play went briskly on, while he continued to chat on

irrelevant subjects.

'Who was that good-looking young fellow who took Miss Montgomerie in

to dinner this evening?' he asked.

'Good looking? _I_ don't think so, but tastes differ. As to who he

is, I may say that he comes of a good old county stock--nay, is _the_

stock himself--Bickerton of that ilk. You don't set much store on

that sort of thing, as I remember,' added Hew, who could never resist

saying a disagreeable thing, 'as you didn't seem to care what

Falconers you came of, when Sir Piers--a great man for

pedigree--spoke about it.'

Cecil Falconer coloured perceptibly at this remark. Hew saw that it

was a sore subject, and thought to himself:

'Hit him on the raw there, somehow!'

Meanwhile, Falconer looked curiously at him from time to time. Was

it the growing regard for Mary Montgomerie that induced him, Cecil

Falconer, to dissemble in his bearing towards this fellow, and affect

to forget that, but for a chance next to a miracle, by his hands, on

that day at the covers, he might now have been a mutilated, hideous,

and blind creature--blighted in existence and profession for ever?

Yes, the influence of Mary alone could make him act the double part

he felt himself to be acting now.

Hew was dealing, and while Falconer was stooping to pat Snarley, gave

himself--as he had done before--eight cards instead of _five_, some

of which he seemed to drop as if by a blunder, and in mistake only

took up one, leaving the remainder on the carpet till the hand was

played out, when he skilfully, but not unnoticed, contrived to

replace them in the pack.

'When we are married,' said he, with a nervous chuckle, 'I'll have to

drop all this sort of thing, I suppose.'

'Well, don't _drop_ your cards as yet,' replied Falconer, coldly.

'Married--you, and who?'

'Mary and I; it's all arranged, don't you know? Oh, by Jove, here is

luck!' he added, looking for a king, and of course _getting_ one,

while the score was growing heavy against his adversary, and was

close on a hundred now.

'Hallo, Mr. Montgomerie!' exclaimed Falconer angrily, as Hew stooped

to fish for a dropped card, 'what's the matter?'

'I have dropped a card, by Jove! and that d----d terrier has collared

it. Here, Snarley, you brute!'

'You have dropped half-a-dozen, sir!' said Falconer sternly, as he

rose from his chair with menace in his eyes.

'I have not!'

'Look for yourself, then.'

'Where?'

'Under the table.'

'By Jove, there _are_ cards there!' said Hew, with well simulated

surprise, as he hastily picked them up; 'but they were never dropped

by me.'

'By who, then?'

To gain time, or avoid reply, Hew addressed himself to his brandy and

soda, of which he had imbibed more than enough already.

'Never again shall I play with you' ('you scoundrel,' Cecil was on

the point of adding); 'and if I do not expose your play to Sir Piers

and the public, it is only because I have a sincere respect for your

family. This is my score,' he continued, taking up a memorandum,

'more than one hundred pounds, which I must have paid you, but for

this most fortunate discovery, which cancels everything!'

With these words, Falconer tore up the paper and scattered the

fragments, while Hew, unsteady in his movements now, clutched the

back of his chair with both hands, grew very pale in the face, and

literally glared at him with his shifty green eyes.

'You are mistaken, Mr. Falconer,' he said thickly.

'I am _not_ mistaken, sir!'

'Come, come; don't make a d----d row about nothing,' said Hew,

coarsely and bluntly; but as he had no wish, as yet, to push matters

to an extremity with Falconer, or drive him to report the occurrence

to Sir Piers, he alternately sought to explain, temporise with, and

even to bully him, seeking at the same time to retain him in the room

for a little space, and unwired another bottle for his benefit; and

Cecil at first thought he was _acting_ intoxication as a cover, or

excuse, for his recent trickery.

'We mustn't appear to quarrel, you know,' said he, inarticulately,

while glaring viciously at Falconer. 'Won't do--bad style of

thing--bad form. Keep it dark with Sir Piers,' he added, swaying

about as if his heels were on a pivot; 'a bloated old aristocrat--man

likely to hop his twig! Ah! you thought to draw me like a badger

about Mary, but won't be drawn by you or any man.'

'Good-night!' cried Cecil, making his escape.

'Goor-right--goor-right!' said Hew, lunging right and left, and

nearly knocking over the card-table, while sending after his guest a

savage malediction, with an unlit havana in his mouth.

Thus, at first, through the appearance of Mary's terrier Snarley with

a card in his mouth, Falconer had obtained an insight into the cause

of his own continued losses, and the steady success of Hew

Montgomerie, with whom, of course, he could never play again; and the

knowledge of this, together with the disgrace of being unmasked as a

gambler and cheat, added to the growing hatred that possessed the

other, who did not appear next morning at breakfast, but left a

message with Tunley for Sir Piers, to the effect, that he had gone to

fulfil an engagement, for a few days' shooting at Bickerton's place,

in the adjacent bailiwick of Kyle, and there, doubtless, he would

plot mischief for the time to come.

'A jolly good riddance!' thought Falconer, as he recalled with

disgust the episode of the last night.

The Cameronians: A Novel, Volume 1 (of 3) · 第 7 / 20 章