Six pairs of eyes were now riveted upon him so he positively dared not attempt to cheat. Moistening his lips he turned the next card, a King and an Ace, then the next pair, an Ace and a Ten, then the next a Jack and Queen.
A faint tremor of indrawn breaths went round the table. Roger had lost yet again. He gave the shrug of well-bred indifference that was expected of a good loser, but his palms were moist as he drew from the pool of counters in reserve a further sixteen five-pound octagonal plaques to pay up the Ambassador.
Still the Russian did not take up his winnings, now piled high upon the Queen. Instead he said quietly: ‘It may be that there is yet another Queen among the remaining cards, if Monsieur Brook has the courage to extend the limit, I will give him a further opportunity to test his fortune.’
Georgina’s eyes were on Roger, begging him to refuse the offer, but he ignored her glance. If he left things as they were he had already lost far more than he had the means to pay and the Russian had challenged him to make it double or quits. Since he had let himself in for the nightmare folly, it seemed to him that he might just as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. With a pale smile at Vorontzoff he replied:
‘With pleasure, Excellency.’
All thought of endeavouring to cheat had now left his mind, but as he made to turn up the next card the moisture of his fingers cause it to stick for a second; instead of falling on to the right-hand-pile it hit the table-edge, hovered, and fluttered to the floor. As he stooped to recover it, the thought flashed upon him that fate was giving him a last moment opportunity to carry out his plan. With a quick movement he palmed one of the Queens from his inside pocket under cover of his lace ruffle.
With a murmured apology for this clumsiness he passed the the few cards left in the pack to Fox, and said: ‘I pray you reshuffle for me, Sir.’
Fox did as he was asked and returned the cards. As Roger took them back he covered them with his lace frilled hand and slid the Queen on top. Since five out of the six people against him had not the least suspicion that he had been cheating, none of them had any reason to suppose that his having dropped one of the cards had been anything but an accident, or gave a second thought to his rather clumsy way of taking them back from Fox. But to anyone who suspected him already the movement must have been transparent.
To Roger, for a few seconds, time seemed to stand still. Every instant he expected the Russian to lurch forward, grab his wrist and accuse him. The revelation that a Queen was on top of the pack would give point to his accusation, but be no proof. Roger would then be entirely within his rights to challenge him. It darted through his mind that he would still be morally liable to his enemy for a sum which he would have very considerable difficulty in raising. But that was beside the point. As he waited, tense and expectant a little glow of triumph warmed his heart; for he felt that he had succeeded, after all, in what a few minutes before had seemed utterly impossible.
Gradually the sudden wave of elation ebbed away. Vorontzoff did nothing; said nothing. The silence seemed to Roger to become unbearable until Fox said: ‘Go on, Sir. For what are you waiting?’
With a strained smile Roger picked up the cards. He was within a hair’s breadth of turning up the Queen on to the winning pile, when, with a swift movement, Vorontzoff checked him.
Roger’s heart leapt. He was no longer thinking of the money, but longing for the accusation, which would enable him to issue a challenge. ‘God be thanked,’ he thought. ‘Here it comes, at last.’
But the Russian said, almost casually, ‘Seeing that we are now playing outside the limit, have you any objection, Monsieur, to my giving the cards a final shuffle?’
The blood drained from Roger’s face, but he could only bow and reply: ‘I have no objection whatever, your Excellency.’
With the deft fingers of an expert card-player Vorontzoff shuffled the now slender deck and replaced them with a slap in front of Roger.
Picking them up he began grimly to turn them over, knowing that his Queen was now lost somewhere in the centre of the little pack. As he laid them down, first to one side then the other, he paid out or took in on the smaller bets that remained on the table. He came to the last two cards; the first was a Ten, the second a Queen.
He knew then that he had been hoist with his own petard. Instead of accusing him of cheating, Vorontzoff had chosen to await his opportunity, and under the eyes of the whole table, being a really skilful cheat, had, during his swift shuffle, transferred the Queen from the top to the bottom of the pack.
There was nothing that Roger could do about it; nothing at all. His supply of chips had enabled him to pay out everybody else, leaving him with thirty shillings in excess of his original allocation; and Vorontzoff’s own act had cancelled out any moral liability to pay him later the sums of which he had been rooked earlier in the game. But the appalling fact remained that he owed the Russian three hundred and twenty pounds—which was more than he received as a whole year’s income.
Roger knew that he deserved the stroke of nemesis that had overtaken him, but that did not make him feel less sick at heart. With commendable savoir faire in the circumstances he bowed to the Ambassador and said: I congratulate your Excellency. As I have not this sum with me I trust you will accept my I.O.U.’
‘With pleasure, Monsieur,’ Vorontzoff bowed back, smiling sardonically; and, while the other losers settled their smaller losses in cash, Roger went over to a Dutch bureau that stood between two of the windows and wrote out a promissory note for three hundred and twenty pounds.
On the game breaking up Georgina pulled the bell by the fire place. A few minutes later a servant wheeled in a two-tiered wagon with a tea-set on top and dishes of pastries and stuffed brioches below. He was an elderly man who walked with a limp, and in strange contrast to the scarlet and gold liveries and powdered hair of the footmen who had waited at dinner, he wore a simple blue blouse and baize apron.
Those of the guests who had been there before showed no surprise, but Vorontzoff looked so taken aback that Georgina laughed, and said: I have a strange whim concerning my maids and men, and will not allow them to be kept up till all hours. From nine o’clock they are free to do as they will, and old Barney, here, looks after our requirements. His days are his own, but at night he occupies a chair in the hall, tends the fires and amuses himself polishing my riding-boots. He taught me to ride as a child and has a marvellous touch with leather.’
With a smile she added in English to the old groom. ‘How go that new pair of boots of mine from Lobb, Barney?’
‘Fine, m’Lady,’ he beamed back. ‘I need but another week on they an’ ye’ll be able to see your pretty face in ’em better ‘n in any mirror.’
As the old man limped away, Vorontzoff said: ‘ ’Tis a most strange innovation to dismiss one’s servants after dinner. I fear mine would think me gone mad did I attempt to do so; but it speaks a volume for your graciousness as a mistress.’
I thank you, Sir. And now, while the tea-kettle boils, I would have you give me your opinion of a painting by Canaletto that I bought last year whilst in Italy. ’Tis in the small drawing-room yonder, if you would give me your arm so far.’
Roger had been brought up in the tradition that whatever personal emotion or distress a gentleman may be feeling he never shows it in company; so he was making a great effort to appear quite normal as he chatted with the others, and not show by the least sign how seriously his heavy loss had affected him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Georgina and Vorontzoff move off together, and it was clear to him that the twelve hours they had now spent in one another’s company had been quite sufficient for them to have got on most excellent terms; but he endeavoured to force both that and his debt into the back of his mind.
The pair were absent for only a few minutes and on her return Georgina infused the fine Bohea. Meanwhile old Barney had wheeled in another trolley carrying an array of wines and spirits, and everyone partook of either a dish of tea or some stronger night-cap.
>
After ten minutes or so Georgina walked over to one of the windows, and, drawing back the heavy brocaded curtain a little, looked out. It was a clear, starry night, and returning to the group by the fire she said to Roger: ‘Ive a mind to take a breath of Mr on the terrace before I retire. You know the closet in the hall where I keep my cloak. I pray you get it for me and we will take a turn together.’
Wondering what this forboded he accompanied her to the door, fetched her cloak and rejoined her on the top of the terrace steps. As they walked down them she said at once: ‘What in the world came over you tonight, Roger, to behave with such consummate folly?’
He shrugged. ‘Need we go into that, m’dear. I’ll admit that I behaved like a fool; but the damage is done, and no good can come of holding an inquest on it.’
‘But, damn it man, you cannot afford such losses! Your pocket is no match for those of men like Fox, Selwyn and the Ambassador; and common sense should have warned you to eschew playing with them in the first instance.’
‘I know it; but I little thought then that I would go down so heavily.’
‘ ’Twas your own fault,’ she countered angrily. ‘And ’twas not like you, Roger. In all our lives I have never known you to lose your head before. You are no gambler either, normally, and rarely touch a card. What possessed you I cannot think. Again, and again I sought to check your rashness, yet you ignored my signals and deliberately plunged deeper as the game progressed.’
‘ ’Tis true. But I beg you spare me your reproaches. ’Tis punishment enough that through an ill-conceived impulse I should have sunk myself for more than I receive from my father in a year.’
‘And how do you intend to raise this money?’
‘I have the best part of two hundred in the funds. For the rest, I shall sell my mare and some of the more extravagant items of my wardrobe that I have bought since my return from France. Then I shall go abroad again, and once more seek to support myself as best I can.’
Georgina paused in her walk and laid a hand on his. She felt that she had punished him enough for his strange lapse into reckless folly, and her voice was warm again as she said: ‘Poor Roger! Be not downcast. Such desperate remedies will not be necessary. They debt is paid, or very soon will be.’
‘What mean you?’ he exclaimed, swinging round towards her.
She drew a crumpled half sheet of notepaper from her bosom and pressed it into his hand. ‘Here is your I.O.U. m’dear; and think no more of your three-hour fit of madness.’
‘How—how did you get this?’ Roger stammered, with a sudden feeling of apprehension.
Georgina laughed. ‘Why, I asked Vorontzoff for it, of course; while I was showing him the Canaletto. He gave it to me in exchange for the privilege of carrying my candle when we go up, and lighting me to bed.’
4
A Night in a Lifetime
Roger was three-quarters of a head taller than Georgina and for a moment he stood staring down into her upturned face, a prey to the most wildly conflicting emotions. After his almost suicidal feelings of the past half-hour, the thought that he would not, after all, have to part with his small nest-egg and most of his treasured possessions in order to raise three hundred and twenty pounds, came as an immense relief. Also he knew that he should be deeply grateful to Georgina, and that she was standing there expecting him to burble out his heartfelt thanks for having saved him from the results of his folly.
Yet he was not grateful to her. Or, at least, while he was far from lacking in appreciation of the swiftness with which she had come to his rescue, he was also bitterly resentful of the means she had adopted to that end. He guessed that, as so often was the case with her, she must have acted on a generous impulse; but, in so doing, had precipitated the very situation which, even to the point of reckless folly, he had been seeking to postpone until after their parting.
Striving to control the emotion in his voice, he said:
‘ ’Twas mightily good of you, Georgina; but, by taking my debt over in this fashion you have unwittingly put a humiliation upon me that I find it monstrous hard to bear.’
‘Stuff and nonsense,’ she replied sharply. ‘I simply told his Excellency that since ’tis our custom to let the servants seek their beds at a reasonable hour we have a row of candles left for us in the hall, and that when you are staying here ’tis your privilege, as my oldest friend, to light me to my room. He rose to the bait like a trout at a mayfly, and hazarded that if you would sell him that privilege for tonight he would gladly accept it in cancellation of your debt; whereupon I closed the deal. What, pray, do you find humiliating in that?’
‘I find it humiliating that you should have to barter your favours to pay my debts.’
‘I promised him no favours.’
‘By inference you certainly did.’
She shrugged. ‘That I’ll admit; but they will be only what I choose to give.’
‘Think you so? Once you present that Russian with a fair field to set about you, I’d give little for your chances of receiving quarter.’
‘Oh, Roger, why must you dramatise the matter so? You are acting like a romantic schoolboy and talking to me as if I were a girl in her first season. I’ll pay your debt in my own fashion, but there will be no sordidness about the transaction, as you suggest.’
‘Yet you would not have offered him an opening so soon; had it not been for my predicament.’
‘Perhaps not; but since you press the point, your own conduct has brought matters to a head more speedily than I expected.’
‘If you admit that, ’tis as good as admitting that you are selling yourself to pay my debt, and therein lies my humiliation.’
Georgina drew herself up. ‘How dare you suggest that I would sell myself for a paltry three hundred pounds!’
‘ ’Tis not the money but the principle of the thing. You know as well as I that you have made an unspoken bargain with the man and are by nature too honest to go back upon it.’
‘I tell you that I have made no bargain! The Russian has taken a gamble on my good-will, no more. He may count himself lucky if I allow him to kiss me goodnight.’
Roger’s laugh rang with angry scorn. ‘Is it likely that he will be content with that?’
‘I do not know, and I do not care,’ Georgina flared. ‘I told you this morning that what I had seen of him in London had predisposed me in his favour. On closer acquaintance I find him both intelligent and amusing. Therefore I pray you disabuse yourself of this notion that anything I may choose to do will be done on account of your own folly. Both political interest and my own inclination conspire in urging me to favour his suit. In the circumstances, it seemed to me that if by accelerating matters a little I could also cancel out this wretched debt of yours, I should be doing you a service. Now, Sir, I pray you take me within doors again.’
Roger bowed stiffly. ‘Since those are your sentiments, Madam, no more remains to be said.’ Then he offered her his arm, and in stony silence escorted her back to the drawing-room.
It was now close on midnight, and within a few moments of their reappearance the company declared for bed. Going out into the hall they lit their respective candles, and having mounted the broad staircase in a body, separated on the landing with a chorus of ‘good nights.’
Georgina and Vorontzoff turned to the right. Roger, following a few paces behind, saw them pass the door of her bedroom and enter the next one to it, which led into her boudoir. As he passed it the door closed behind them. Biting his lip, he walked on down the corridor to the third door in the row, that of Sir Humphrey Etheredge’s room, which he was occupying; and, going in slammed it behind him with a loud bang.
In the boudoir Vorontzoff had just completed the lighting of a three-branched candelabra that stood on an occasional table at the head of the golden day-bed. As the slam reverberated through the room he shot a quick look at the communicating door, then smiled at Georgina. ‘ ’Twas young Mr. Brook behind us just now, was it not? He seems to have sought
his bed in something of a temper.’
She made a little face. ‘Poor fellow! He sets considerable store on his privilege of lighting me to bed and was most loath to surrender it, even for the cancellation of his debt.’
‘That I can well understand, Madame. And lest it trouble him so much as to cause him to walk in his sleep we will take due precaution that he should not disturb you.’
As he spoke the Russian took three swift steps towards the communicating door and shot its bolt; then he turned to face her again and gave her a long steady look.
He was not as tall as Roger but broader in the shoulders, and all his movements denoted a quick, determined mind. His flattish face was saved from ugliness by its strength, and the upward slope of his dark eyebrows at their outer ends gave him a faint resemblance to a satyr.
Georgina, faintly smiling, returned his look. She was tensely curious to know what line he would take with her. In such a situation the usual technique of the day was for the gallant to pour out a stream of wildly exaggerated compliments, beseech the fair to take pity on him, and falling on his knees before her, vow that he would commit suicide unless she salved the sweet but deadly wound that Cupid’s arrow had made in his heart. If the lady actively disliked him, or wished to prolong his torment, she firmly rejected all his pleas. Otherwise she pretended an exaggerated virtue and alarm, gradually appeared to become affected by her lover’s emotion and finally, apparently quite distraught, half-fainting and with languorous sighs, succumbed to his attack.
Having been the object of a score of such attempts during the past five years Georgina had come to find them a little boring, and the Russian’s only real attraction for her lay in the fact that she believed his love-making would prove quite different from anything that she had so far experienced.
As their long look broke, he picked up the candle again and moved with resolute steps towards her bedroom.
The Shadow of Tyburn Tree Page 7