"But he did know"--I said--"Did you not say you exchanged cards?"
"True, but that was afterwards!" and Lucio laughed; "I assure you, my
dear fellow, we can 'manage' McWhing!"
I was intensely interested in the story as he told it,--he had such a
dramatic way of speaking and looking, while his very gestures brought
the whole scene vividly before me like a picture. I spoke out my thought
impulsively.
"You would certainly have made a superb actor, Lucio!"
"How do you know I am not one?" he asked with a flashing glance, then he
added quickly--"No,--there is no occasion to paint the face and prance
over the boards before a row of tawdry footlights like the paid mimes,
in order to be histrionically great. The finest actor is he who can play
the comedy of life perfectly, as I aspire to do. To walk well, talk
well, smile well, weep well, groan well, laugh well--and die well!--it
is all pure acting,--because in every man there is the dumb dreadful
immortal Spirit who is real,--who cannot act,--who Is,--and who steadily
maintains an infinite though speechless protest against the body's Lie!"
I said nothing in answer to this outburst,--I was beginning to be used
to his shifting humours and strange utterances,--they increased the
mysterious attraction I had for him, and made his character a perpetual
riddle to me which was not without its subtle charm. Every now and then
I realized, with a faintly startled sense of self-abasement, that I was
completely under his dominance,--that my life was being entirely guided
by his control and suggestion,--but I argued with myself that surely it
was well it should be so, seeing he had so much more experience and
influence than I. We dined together that night as we often did, and our
conversation was entirely taken up with monetary and business concerns.
Under Lucio's advice I was making several important investments, and
these matters gave us ample subject for discussion. At about eleven
o'clock, it being a fine frosty evening and fit for brisk walking, we
went out, our destination being the private gambling club to which my
companion had volunteered to introduce me as a guest. It was situated at
the end of a mysterious little back street, not far from the respectable
precincts of Pall-Mall, and was an unpretentious looking house enough
outside, but within, it was sumptuously though tastelessly furnished.
Apparently, the premises were presided over by a woman,--a woman with
painted eyes and dyed hair who received us first of all within the
lamp-lighted splendours of an Anglo-Japanese drawing-room. Her looks and
manner undisguisedly proclaimed her as a _demi-mondaine_ of the most
pronounced type,--one of those 'pure' ladies with a 'past' who are
represented as such martyrs to the vices of men. Lucio said something to
her apart,--whereupon she glanced at me deferentially and smiled,--then
rang the bell. A discreet looking man-servant in sober black made his
appearance, and at a slight sign from his mistress who bowed to me as I
passed her, proceeded to show us upstairs. We trod on a carpet of the
softest felt,--in fact I noticed that everything was rendered as
noiseless as possible in this establishment, the very doors being
covered with thick baize and swinging on silent hinges. On the upper
landing, the servant knocked very cautiously at a side-door,--a key
turned in the lock, and we were admitted into a long double room, very
brilliantly lit with electric lamps, which at a first glance seemed
crowded with men playing at _rouge et noir_ and _baccarat_. Some looked
up as Lucio entered and nodded smilingly,--others glanced inquisitively
at me, but our entrance was otherwise scarcely noticed. Lucio drawing me
along by the arm, sat down to watch the play,--I followed his example
and presently found myself infected by the intense excitement which
permeated the room like the silent tension of the air before a
thunderstorm. I recognised the faces of many well known public men,--men
eminent in politics and society whom one would never have imagined
capable of supporting a gambling club by their presence and authority.
But I took care to betray no sign of surprise, and quietly observed the
games and the gamesters with almost as impassive a demeanour as that of
my companion. I was prepared to play and to lose,--I was not prepared
however for the strange scene which was soon to occur and in which I, by
force of circumstances was compelled to take a leading part.
[2] The author has Mr Knowles's own written authority for this fact.
X
As soon as the immediate game we were watching was finished, the players
rose, and greeted Lucio with a good deal of eagerness and effusion. I
instinctively guessed from their manner that they looked upon him as an
influential member of the club, a person likely to lend them money to
gamble with, and otherwise to oblige them in various ways, financially
speaking. He introduced me to them all, and I was not slow to perceive
the effect my name had upon most of them. I was asked if I would join in
a game of baccarat, and I readily consented. The stakes were ruinously
high, but I had no need to falter for that. One of the players near me
was a fair-haired young man, handsome in face and of aristocratic
bearing,--he had been introduced to me as Viscount Lynton. I noticed him
particularly on account of the reckless way he had of doubling his
stakes suddenly and apparently out of mere bravado, and when he lost, as
he mostly did, he laughed uproariously as though he were drunk or
delirious. On first beginning to play I was entirely indifferent as to
the results of the game, caring nothing at all as to whether I had
losses or gains. Lucio did not join us, but sat apart, quietly
observant, and watching me, so I fancied, more than anyone. And as
chance would have it, all the luck came my way, and I won steadily. The
more I won the more excited I became, till presently my humour changed
and I was seized by a whimsical desire to lose. I suppose it was the
touch of some better impulse in my nature that made me wish this for
young Lynton's sake. For he seemed literally maddened by my constant
winnings, and continued his foolhardy and desperate play,--his young
face grew drawn and sharply thin, and his eyes glittered with a hungry
feverishness. The other gamesters, though sharing in his run of
ill-luck, seemed better able to stand it, or perhaps they concealed
their feelings more cleverly,--anyhow I know I caught myself very
earnestly wishing that this devil's luck of mine would desert me and set
in the young Viscount's direction. But my wishes were no use,--again and
again I gathered up the stakes, till at last the players rose, Viscount
Lynton among them.
"Well, I'm cleaned out!" he said, with a loud forced laugh. "You must
give me my chance of a _revanche_ to-morrow, Mr Tempest!"