Grandmother observed all this from a distance, with wild curiosity. She liked it very much that the thieves were removed. Trente et quarante aroused little curiosity in her; she much preferred roulette and the way the little ball rolled about. She wanted, finally, to have a closer look at the game. I don’t understand how it happened, but the attendants and some other busybodies (mostly little Poles who had lost their money and now foisted their services on lucky players and all foreigners) at once found and cleared a place for grandmother, despite all that crowd, right at the middle of the table, next to the head croupier, and rolled her chair there. Numerous visitors who were not playing themselves, but watched the play from outside (mostly Englishmen and their families), at once pushed their way to the table to get a look at grandmother from behind the players. Numerous lorgnettes turned towards her. Hopes were born in the croupiers: such an eccentric gambler really seemed to promise something extraordinary. A seventy-year-old woman, crippled and wishing to gamble, was, of course, not an ordinary case. I also pushed my way to the table and established myself by grandmother. Potapych and Marfa stayed somewhere far to the side, among the people. The general, Polina, des Grieux, and Mlle Blanche also stationed themselves to the side, among the spectators.
Grandmother began by examining the players. She asked me sharp, abrupt questions in a half-whisper: who’s that man? who’s that woman? She especially liked one very young man at the end of the table, who played a very big game, staked thousands, and had already won, as the whisper went around, up to forty thousand francs, which lay in a heap before him, in gold and banknotes. He was pale; his eyes flashed and his hands trembled; he staked now without any calculation, as much as his hands snatched up, and yet he kept winning and winning, raking and raking it all in. Attendants bustled about him, put a chair behind him, cleared a space around him so that he would have more room and not be crowded—all this in expectation of a rich reward. Certain players, when they’re winning, will sometimes give them money without counting, just like that, out of joy, also as much as their hand snatches from their pocket. A little Pole had already settled himself next to the young man, bustling with all his might, and whispered something to him, respectfully but constantly, probably telling him how to stake, advising and directing the play—naturally, also hoping for a handout afterwards. But the gambler scarcely looked at him, staking at random and raking it all in. He was obviously becoming flustered.
Grandmother observed him for several minutes.
“Tell him,” grandmother suddenly fluttered up, giving me a nudge, “tell him to quit, to take the money and leave quickly. He’ll lose, he’ll lose everything now!” she fussed, nearly breathless with agitation. “Where’s Potapych? Send Potapych to him! Tell him, tell him,” she nudged me, “no, where indeed is Potapych? Sortez, sortez,”[28] she herself began shouting to the young man. I bent down to her and whispered resolutely that it was not permitted to shout like that here, nor even to raise one’s voice a little, because it interfered with the counting, and that we’d be turned out at once.
“How vexing! The man’s lost, which means he wants it that way himself…I can’t watch him, I’m all upset. What a dolt!” And grandmother quickly turned in another direction.
There, to the left, on the other side of the table, among the players, a young lady could be noticed and beside her some sort of dwarf. Who this dwarf was, I don’t know: a relation of hers perhaps, or else just brought along for effect. I had noticed the lady before; she came to the gaming table every day at one in the afternoon and left at exactly two; she played for one hour every day. They knew her by now and offered her a chair at once. She would take some gold from her pocket, some thousand-franc notes, and begin to stake quietly, coolly, with calculation, marking the numbers on a paper with her pencil and trying to find the system by which the chances were grouped at the moment. She staked significant amounts. Every day she won one, two, at the most three thousand francs, not more, and, having won, she immediately left. Grandmother studied her for a long time.
“Well, that one’s not going to lose! that one there’s not going to lose! What is she? You don’t know? Who is she?”
“A Frenchwoman, must be, or the like,” I whispered.
“Ah, you can tell a bird by its flight. You can see her little nails are sharpened. Now explain to me what every turn means and how to stake.”
I explained to grandmother, as far as possible, the meaning of the numerous combinations of stakes, rouge et noir, pair et impair, manque et passe,[29] and, finally, various nuances in the system of numbers. Grandmother listened attentively, memorized, asked again, and learned by heart. Each system of stakes could be illustrated at once by an example, so that many things could be learned and memorized very easily and quickly. Grandmother remained quite pleased.
“And what is zéro? Why did this croupier, the head one, the curly one, cry zéro just now? And why did he rake in everything that was on the table? Such a pile, and he took it all for himself? What’s that?”
“It’s zéro, grandmother, the bank’s profit. If the ball lands on zéro, everything that was put on the table goes to the bank without counting it up. True, another spin is permitted so as to restart the game, but the bank pays nothing.”
“Fancy that! And I don’t get anything?”
“No, grandmother, if you staked on zéro beforehand, and it comes up zéro, they pay you thirty-five times the amount.”
“What, thirty-five times? And does it come up often? The fools, why don’t they stake on it?”
“The odds are thirty-six to one, grandmother.”
“That’s rubbish! Potapych! Potapych! Wait, I have money on me—here!” She took a tightly stuffed purse from her pocket and took out a friedrich d’or. “Here, stake it right now on zéro.”
“Grandmother, zéro just came up,” I said, “that means it won’t come up for a long time now. You’ll lose heavily; wait awhile at least.”
“Eh, lies, go on, stake!”
“As you wish, but it may not come up till evening, you’ll lose as much as a thousand, such things happen.”
“Eh, nonsense, nonsense! Nothing ventured, nothing gained. What? you lost? Stake again!”
We lost the second friedrich d’or; staked a third. Grandmother could barely sit still, she simply fastened her burning eyes on the ball bouncing over the grooves of the turning wheel. We lost the third as well. Grandmother was beside herself, she simply couldn’t sit still, she even banged her fist on the table when the croupier announced trente-six[30] instead of the hoped-for zéro.
“Drat it!” grandmother said angrily, “won’t that cursed little zéro come up sometime soon? I’ll wait for it even if it’s the death of me! It’s all this cursed curly croupier’s doing, he never gets it to come up! Alexei Ivanovich, stake two gold pieces at once! If we stake so little, then, even if zéro does come up, there won’t be any gain.”
“Grandmother!”
“Stake them, stake them! They’re not yours.”
I staked two friedrichs d’or. The ball rolled around the wheel for a while, then began bouncing over the grooves. Grandmother froze and squeezed my hand, and suddenly—plop!
“Zéro,” announced the croupier.
“You see, you see!” grandmother quickly turned to me, beaming all over and very pleased. “I told you, I told you! The Lord himself put it into my head to stake two gold pieces. Well, how much will I get now? Why don’t they give it to me? Potapych, Marfa, where are they? Where have all our people gone? Potapych, Potapych!”
“Later, grandmother,” I whispered. “Potapych is by the door, they won’t let him in here. Look, grandmother, they’re giving you your money, take it!” They tossed her a heavy roll of fifty friedrichs d’or sealed in dark blue paper and counted out another twenty unsealed friedrichs d’or. I raked it all towards grandmother.
“Faites le jeu, messieurs! Faites le jeu, messieurs! Rien ne va plus?”[31] proclaimed the croupier, inviting the stakes and prepar
ing to spin the wheel.
“Lord! we’re too late! They’re about to spin it! Stake, stake!” grandmother fussed. “Don’t dawdle, be quick,” she was getting beside herself, nudging me with all her might.
“Stake on what, grandmother?”
“On zéro, on zéro! on zéro again! Stake as much as possible! How much do we have? Seventy friedrichs d’or? No point in saving them, stake twenty friedrichs d’or at one go.”
“Collect yourself, grandmother! Sometimes it doesn’t come up once in two hundred turns! I assure you, you’ll lose all your capital.”
“Eh, lies, lies! stake it! Don’t wag your tongue! I know what I’m doing.” Grandmother was even shaking with frenzy.
“According to the rules, you’re not allowed to stake more than twelve friedrichs d’or at a time on zéro, grandmother—so that’s what I’m staking.”
“How not allowed? You wouldn’t be lying, would you? Moosieu, moosieu!” she began nudging the croupier, who was sitting just to her left and preparing to spin, “combien zéro? douze? douze?”[32]
I hastened to explain her question in French.
“Oui, madame,” the croupier confirmed politely, “just as no single stake may exceed four thousand florins at a time, according to the rules,” he added in explanation.
“Well, no help for it, stake twelve.”
“Le jeu est fait! ”[33] cried the croupier.
The wheel spun, and thirteen came up. We lost!
“Again! again! again! stake again!” cried grandmother. I no longer objected and, shrugging my shoulders, staked another twelve friedrichs d’or. The wheel spun for a long time. Grandmother simply trembled as she watched it. “Does she really think she’ll win again on zéro?” I thought, looking at her in astonishment. A decided conviction of winning shone in her face, an unfailing expectation that there was just about to be a cry of “Zéro! ” The ball jumped into the groove.
“Zéro! ” cried the croupier.
“So there!!!” grandmother turned to me in furious triumph.
I myself was a gambler; I felt it that same moment. My hands and feet were trembling, my head throbbed. Of course, it was a rare case that zéro should pop up three times in some ten turns; but there was nothing especially surprising about it. I myself had witnessed, two days ago, how zéro came up three times in a row, and one of the players, who zealously noted down all the turns on papers, observed aloud that no longer ago than the previous day that same zéro had come up just once in a whole twenty-four hours.
As grandmother had won the most significant sum, they paid her with particular attention and deference. She was to receive exactly four hundred and twenty friedrichs d’or, that is, four thousand florins and twenty friedrichs d’or. She was given the twenty friedrichs d’or in gold and the four thousand in banknotes.
This time grandmother did not call Potapych; she was otherwise occupied. She didn’t even nudge me or tremble outwardly. She trembled—if it’s possible to put it so—inwardly. She was all concentrated on something, aiming at it:
“Alexei Ivanovich! he said one can stake only four thousand florins a time? Here, take and put this whole four thousand on red,” grandmother decided.
It was useless to try talking her out of it. The wheel spun.
“Rouge! ” announced the croupier.
Again a win of four thousand florins, meaning eight in all. “Give me four here, and put four on red again,” grandmother commanded.
I staked four thousand again.
“Rouge! ” the croupier announced once more.
“A total of twelve! Give it all here. Pour the gold here, into this purse, and put away the banknotes.
“Enough! Home! Roll on!”
CHAPTER XI
THE CHAIR WAS ROLLED to the door at the other end of the room. Grandmother was beaming. All our people crowded around her at once with congratulations. However eccentric grandmother’s behavior was, her triumph covered up a lot, and the general no longer feared compromising himself in public by being related to such an odd woman. With a condescending and familiarly cheerful smile, as if placating a child, he congratulated grandmother. However, he was evidently struck, as were all the spectators. The people around were talking and pointing at grandmother. Many walked past her in order to get a closer look. Mr. Astley, standing to one side, was talking about her with two Englishmen of his acquaintance. Several majestic spectators, ladies, gazed at her as at some wonder, with majestic perplexity. Des Grieux simply dissolved in smiles and congratulations.
“Quelle victoire! ”[34] he kept saying.
“Mais, madame, c’était du feu! ”[35] Mlle Blanche added with a flirtatious smile.
“Yes, ma’am, I just up and won twelve thousand florins! Twelve, nothing, what about the gold? With the gold it comes out to nearly thirteen. How much is that in our money? Some six thousand, eh?”
I reported that it was over seven and, with the exchange what it was, maybe even eight.
“No joking, eight thousand! And you dunderheads sit here and do nothing! Potapych, Marfa, did you see?”
“Dearie, but how can it be? Eight thousand roubles!” Marfa exclaimed, twining about.
“Take, here’s five gold pieces from me for each of you, here!”
Potapych and Marfa rushed to kiss her hands.
“The porters get one friedrich d’or each. Give them a gold piece each, Alexei Ivanovich. What’s that attendant bowing for, and the other one also? Congratulating me? Give them each a friedrich d’or as well.”
“Madame la princesse…un pauvre expatrié…malheur continuel…les princes russes sont si généreux,”[36] a person twined about the armchair, in a shabby frock coat, a motley waistcoat, a mustache, holding a peaked cap in his outstretched hand, and with an obsequious smile…
“Give him a friedrich d’or as well. No, give him two; well, enough, there’ll be no end to it. Up and carry! Praskovya,” she turned to Polina Alexandrovna, “tomorrow I’ll buy you stuff for a dress, and also for this Mlle…how’s she called, Mlle Blanche, or something, I’ll also buy her stuff for a dress. Translate, Praskovya!”
“Merci, madame,” Mlle Blanche curtsied sweetly, twisting her mouth into a mocking smile, which she sent to des Grieux and the general. The general was a bit embarrassed and was terribly glad when we reached the avenue.
“Fedosya, I’m thinking how surprised Fedosya will be now,” said grandmother, remembering her acquaintance, the general’s nanny. “She should also be given money for a dress. Hey, Alexei Ivanovich, Alexei Ivanovich, give something to this beggar!”
Some ragamuffin with a bent back was going down the road and looking at us.
“Maybe he’s not a beggar, grandmother, but some sort of rascal.”
“Give! give! give him a gulden!”
I went over and gave it to him. He gazed at me in wild perplexity, though he silently took the gulden. He reeked of wine.
“And you, Alexei Ivanovich, have you tried your luck yet?”
“No, grandmother.”
“Your eyes were burning, I saw it.”
“I’ll try it yet, grandmother, for certain, later on.”
“And stake directly on zéro! You’ll see! How much capital do you have?”
“Only twenty friedrichs d’or, grandmother.”
“Not much. I’ll lend you fifty friedrichs d’or, if you like. Here’s that same roll, take it, and you, dearie, don’t get your hopes up, I won’t give you anything!” she suddenly turned to the general.
The man was as if bowled over, but he said nothing. Des Grieux frowned.
“Que diable, c’est une terrible vieille! ”[37] he whispered to the general through his teeth.
“A beggar, a beggar, again a beggar!” cried grandmother. “Alexei Ivanovich, give this one a gulden, too.”
This time we met a gray-haired old man on a wooden leg, in some sort of long-skirted blue frock coat and with a long cane in his hand. He looked like an old soldier. But when I offered him a gul
den, he stepped back and examined me menacingly.
“Was ist’s der Teufel! ”[38] he cried, adding another dozen oaths.
“Eh, the fool!” cried grandmother, waving her hand. “Drive on! I’m hungry! I’ll have dinner right now, then loll about for a bit and go back again.”
“You want to gamble again, grandmother?” I cried.
“What do you think? You all sit here and mope, so I’ve got to look at you?”
“Mais, madame,” des Grieux came closer, “les chances peuvent tourner, une seule mauvaise chance and vous perdrez tout…surtout avec votre jeu…c’était terrible! ”[39]
“Vous perdrez absolument,”[40] chirped Mlle Blanche.
“What is it to all of you? It’s my money I’ll be losing, not yours! And where is that Mr. Astley?” she asked me.
“He stayed at the vauxhall, grandmother.”
“A pity; he’s such a nice man.”
On reaching home, grandmother, meeting the manager while still on the stairs, called to him and boasted of her win; then she called Fedosya, gave her three friedrichs d’or and ordered dinner served. Fedosya and Marfa simply dissolved before her during dinner.
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