by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN.
THE WATCH AND RING.
I rose from my seat, and turned towards D'Hauteville with a glance ofdespair. I needed not to tell him the result. My look would haveannounced it, but he had been gazing over my shoulder and knew all.
"Shall we go, Monsieur?" I asked.
"Not yet--stay a moment," replied he, placing his hand upon my arm.
"And why?" I asked; "I have not a dollar. I have lost all. I mighthave known it would be so. Why stay here, sir?"
I spoke somewhat brusquely. I confess I was at the moment in anythingbut an amiable mood. In addition to my prospects for the morrow, asuspicion had flashed across my mind that my new friend was not loyal.His knowledge of these men--his having counselled me to play there--theaccident, to say the least, a strange one, of our again meeting with the"sportsmen" of the boat, and under such a new phase--the great celeritywith which my purse had been "cleared out"--all these circumstancespassing rapidly through my mind, led me naturally enough to suspectD'Hauteville of treason. I ran rapidly over our late conversation. Itried to remember whether he had said or done anything to guide me intothis particular hell. Certainly he had not proposed my playing, butrather opposed it; and I could not remember that by word or act he hadendeavoured to introduce me to the game. Moreover, he seemed as muchastonished as myself at seeing these gentlemen behind the table.
What of all that? The surprise might have been well feigned. Possiblyenough; and after my late experience of the pork-merchant, probablyenough, Monsieur D'Hauteville was also a partner in the firm of Chorley,Hatcher, and Co. I wheeled round with an angry expression on my lips,when the current of my thoughts was suddenly checked, and turned into anew channel. The young Creole stood looking up in my face--he was notso tall as I--gazing upon me out of his beautiful eyes, and waitinguntil my moment of abstraction should pass. Something glittered in hisoutstretched hand. It was a purse. I could see the yellow coinsshining through the silken network. It was a purse of gold!
"Take it!" he said, in his soft silvery voice.
My heart fell abashed within me. I could scarce stammer forth a reply.Had he but known my latest thoughts, he might have been able to read theflush of shame that so suddenly mantled my cheeks.
"No, Monsieur," I replied; "this is too generous of you. I cannotaccept it."
"Come--come! Why not? Take it, I pray--try Fortune again. She hasfrowned on you of late, but remember she is a fickle goddess, and mayyet smile on you. Take the purse, man!"
"Indeed, Monsieur, I cannot after what I--pardon me--if you knew--"
"Then must _I_ play for you--remember the purpose that brought us here!Remember Aurore!"
"Oh!"
This ejaculation, wrung from my heart, was the only answer I could make,before the young Creole had turned to the faro-table, and was placinghis gold upon the cards.
I stood watching him with feelings of astonishment and admiration,mingled with anxiety for the result.
What small white hands! What a brilliant jewel, sparkling on hisfinger--a diamond! It has caught the eyes of the players, who gloatupon it as it passes back and forward to the cards. Chorley and Hatcherhave both noticed it. I saw them exchange their peculiar glance as theydid so. Both are polite to him. By the large bets he is laying he haswon their esteem. Their attention in calling out the card when he wins,and in handing him his cheques, is marked and assiduous. He is thefavoured better of the ring; and oh! how the eyes of those fair lemansgleam upon him with their wild and wicked meaning! Not one of them thatwould not love him for that sparkling gem!
I stood on one side watching with great anxiety--greater than if thestake had been my own. But it _was_ my own. It was _for me_. Thegenerous youth was playing away his gold for _me_.
My suspense was not likely to be of long duration. He was losingrapidly--recklessly losing. He had taken my place at the table, andalong with it my ill-luck. Almost every bet he made was "raked" intothe bank, until his last coin lay upon the cards. Another turn, andthat, too, chinked as it fell into the cash-box of the croupier!
"Come now, D'Hauteville! Come away!" I whispered, leaning over, andlaying hold of his arm.
"How much against this?" he asked the banker, without heeding me--"howmuch, sir?"
As he put the question, he raised the gold guard over his head, at thesame time drawing forth his watch.
I suspected this was his intention when I first spoke. I repeated myrequest in a tone of entreaty--all in vain. He pressed Chorley for areply.
The latter was not the man to waste words at such a crisis.
"A hundred dollars," said he, "for the watch--fifty more upon thechain."
"Beautiful!" exclaimed one of the players.
"They're worth more," muttered another.
Even in the _blaze_ hearts around that table there were human feelings.There is always a touch of sympathy for him who loses boldly; and anexpression of this in favour of the Creole youth could be heard, fromtime to time, as his money parted from him.
"Yes, that watch and chain are worth more," said a tall dark-whiskeredman, who sat near the end of the table. This remark was made in a firmconfident tone of voice, that seemed to command Chorley's attention.
"I'll look at it again, if you please?" said he, stretching across thetable to D'Hauteville, who still held the watch in his hand.
The latter surrendered it once more to the gambler, who opened the case,and commenced inspecting the interior. It was an elegant watch, andchain also--of the fashion usually worn by ladies. They were worth morethan Chorley had offered, though that did not appear to be the opinionof the pork-merchant.
"It's a good pile o' money, is a hundred an' fifty dollars," drawled he;"a good biggish pile, I reckon. I don't know much about such fixinsmeself, but it's full valley for that ar watch an' chain, I shed say."
"Nonsense!" cried several: "two hundred dollars--it's worth it all. Seethe jewels!"
Chorley cut short the discussion.
"Well," said he, "I don't think it worth more than what I've bid, sir.But since you wish to get back what you've already lost, I don't mindstaking two hundred against watch and chain together. Does that satisfyyou?"
"Play on!" was the only answer made by the impatient Creole, as he tookback his watch, and laid it down upon one of the cards.
It was a cheap watch to Chorley. It cost him but the drawing out ofhalf-a-dozen cards, and it became his!
"How much against this?"
D'Hauteville drew off his ring, and held it before the dazzled eyes ofthe dealer.
At this crisis I once more interfered, but my remonstrance was unheeded.It was of no use trying to stay the fiery spirit of the Creole.
The ring was a diamond, or rather a collection of diamonds in a goldsetting. It, like the watch, was also of the fashion worn by ladies;and I could hear some characteristic remarks muttered around the table,such as, "That young blood's got a rich girl somewhere", "There's morewhere they come from," and the like!
The ring was evidently one of much value, as Chorley, after anexamination of it, proposed to stake four hundred dollars. The tall manin dark whiskers again interfered, and put it at five hundred. Thecircle backed him, and the dealer at length agreed to give that sum.
"Will you take cheques, sir?" he inquired, addressing D'Hauteville, "ordo you mean to stake it at one bet?"
"At one bet," was the answer.
"No, no!" cried several voices, inclined to favour D'Hauteville.
"At one bet," repeated he, in a determined tone. "Place it upon theace!"
"As you wish, sir," responded Chorley, with perfect _sang-froid_, at thesame time handing back the ring to its owner.
D'Hauteville took the jewel in his slender white fingers, and laid it onthe centre of the card. It was the only bet made. The other playershad become so interested in the result, that they withheld their stakesin order to watch it.
Chorley commenced drawing the car
ds. Each one as it came forth caused amomentary thrill of expectancy; and when aces, deuces, or tres withtheir broad white margins appeared outside the edge of that mysteriousbox, the excitement became intense.
It was a long time before two aces came together. It seemed as if thevery importance of the stakes called for more than the usual time todecide the bet.
It was decided at length. The ring followed the watch.
I caught D'Hauteville by the arm, and drew him away from the table.This time he followed me unresistingly--as he had nothing more to lay.
"What matters it?" said he, with a gay air as we passed together out ofthe saloon. "Ah! yes," he continued, changing his tone, "ah, yes, itdoes matter! It matters to _you_, and _Aurore_!"