So then, let’s get down to writing. However, I can now tell only part of the story and briefly at that: the impressions were quite different …
First of all, to finish up with Grandmother. The next day she lost every last thing. It was bound to happen: once someone like her starts down that road, it’s like riding a sled down a snowy mountain, you go faster and faster. She played all day until eight o’clock in the evening; I wasn’t there when she played and know about it only from what I’ve been told.
Potapych stood by her side all day long in the casino. The little Poles who were acting as Grandmother’s guides changed several times during the course of the day. She began by banishing the little Pole from the day before, whom she had pulled by the hair, and took on another who turned out to be even worse. After banishing him and taking on the first one again, who had not left and who kept shoving up right against her chair and constantly thrusting his head forward during the entire time of his exile, she finally fell into absolute despair. The second little Pole whom she had banished did not intend to leave either; one planted himself on the right, the other on her left. They quarrelled and abused each other the entire time over the stakes and strategies, calling each other łajdak2 and other Polish compliments, then they made up again, threw money around willy-nilly and gave worthless orders. When they quarrelled, they would each put down a stake from his own side: one, for example, on red, and the other immediately on black. It all ended with them making Grandmother so dizzy and confused that she finally turned to the old croupier almost in tears, asking that he protect her and have them banished. They were in fact immediately banished, despite their clamour and protests: they both shouted at once and tried to prove that Grandmother owed them money, that she had somehow deceived them and dealt with them dishonestly, basely. The unfortunate Potapych told me all this with tears that same evening, after she’d lost everything, and complained that they stuffed their pockets with money, that he himself had seen how they had been stealing shamelessly and constantly thrusting it in their pockets. For example, one would ask Grandmother for five friedrichs d’or for his trouble and immediately start staking it, right next to Grandmother’s stakes. Grandmother would win, but he’d cry out that it was his stake that had won and Grandmother’s had lost. As they were being shown the door, Potapych came forward and reported that their pockets were full of gold. Grandmother at once asked the croupier to look into it, and despite the little Poles’ screeching (they were just like two roosters that had been snatched up barehanded), the police did come and their pockets were emptied out at once in Grandmother’s favour. Grandmother commanded the respect of the croupiers and the entire casino staff, for that matter, for the whole day, until she lost everything. Little by little, news of her spread throughout the town. All the visitors to the spa, of all nations, the ordinary and the most exalted, thronged to have a look at ‘une vieille comtesse russe, tombée en enfance’, who had already lost ‘several million’.
But Grandmother gained very, very little from being rid of the two Poles. In their place a third Pole appeared at once to offer his services; he spoke absolutely perfect Russian, was dressed like a gentleman, but there was still something of the flunkey about him with his enormous moustache and his arrogance. He also kissed the ‘pani’s feet’ and ‘prostrated himself at the pani’s feet’, but he behaved arrogantly to those around him, managed things like a despot – in a word, he immediately became Grandmother’s master rather than her servant. He constantly turned to her, at every move, and swore by the most dreadful oaths that he was a most ‘honourable pan’ and that he wouldn’t take a single kopeck of Grandmother’s money. He repeated these oaths so often that she became positively frightened. But since in the beginning this pan did in fact seem to improve her game and she started winning, Grandmother couldn’t give him up. An hour later, both of the other little Poles, who had been turned out of the casino, reappeared behind Grandmother’s chair, again offering their services, even if it were just running errands. Potapych swore that the honourable pan had winked at them and even handed them something. Since Grandmother had not had dinner and had hardly left her chair, one of the little Poles in fact did come in handy: he ran next door to the casino dining room and got her a cup of bouillon, and later some tea. Both of them, however, ran errands for her. But by the end of the day, when it had already become clear to everyone that she was losing her last banknote, there were as many as six little Poles standing behind her chair, none of whom had been seen or heard of earlier. And when Grandmother was gambling away her last coins, not only did they not listen to her, but they didn’t even take any notice of her, but clambered right over her to reach the table, snatched up the money themselves, gave directions and staked, quarrelled and shouted, conferred confidentially with the honourable pan, while the honourable pan all but forgot about Grandmother’s existence. Even when Grandmother had lost absolutely everything and was returning to the hotel that evening at eight o’clock, three or four little Poles still had not made up their minds whether to leave her or not but ran alongside her chair, shouting with all their might and claiming in a rapid-fire patter that Grandmother had somehow swindled them and must give them something. And that’s how she made her way to the hotel, where they were finally driven away by force.
Potapych reckoned that Grandmother had lost as much as 90,000 roubles in all that day, not counting the money she had lost the day before. She had exchanged all her banknotes one after the other – five per-cent notes, the domestic bonds, all the shares that she had with her. I wondered how she endured sitting for those seven or eight hours in her chair, almost never leaving the table, but Potapych told me that she did in fact start to win considerably on three occasions; and carried away again by hope, she couldn’t bring herself to leave. But gamblers know how a person can sit for almost an entire day over cards in the same spot, without taking his eyes off them.
Meanwhile, very decisive things were also taking place all day long in the hotel. That morning, before eleven o’clock, when Grandmother was still at home, our people, that is, the general and des Grieux, decided on the final step. Upon learning that Grandmother had no intention of leaving, but on the contrary was setting out again for the casino, they all (except Polina) went for a conclave, to talk things over finally and even openly. The general, trembling and with sinking heart in view of the awful consequences in store for him, even went a bit too far: after half an hour of prayers and entreaties, and even openly admitting everything, that is, all his debts and even his passion for Mlle Blanche (he had become completely flustered), the general suddenly adopted a threatening tone and even began to shout and stamp his feet at Grandmother; he shouted that she was bringing shame on the family, that she had become a scandal all over town and, finally … finally: ‘You have disgraced the name of Russia, madam!’ the general shouted, ‘and we have the police for that sort of thing!’ Grandmother at last chased him out with a stick (a real stick). The general and des Grieux conferred once or twice more that morning, and what interested them precisely was whether in actual fact they could make use of the police. In effect that the unfortunate but respectable old lady had lost her mind, was gambling away the last of her money and so forth. In a word, wouldn’t it be possible to obtain some sort of order of protection or injunction? … But des Grieux merely shrugged his shoulders and laughed in the general’s face, when the latter began talking utter nonsense as he darted back and forth in his study. Finally, des Grieux threw up his hands and vanished somewhere. That evening I learned that he had left the hotel altogether, after a decisive and mysterious discussion with Mlle Blanche. As for Mlle Blanche, she had already taken final measures that morning: she had completely thrown over the general and would not allow him in her sight. When the general ran to the casino after her and found her arm in arm with the little prince, neither she nor Madame veuve Cominges acknowledged him. Nor did the little prince return his bow. All that day Mlle Blanche made an effort with the prince, working on hi
m so that he would at last speak his mind once and for all. But alas! She was cruelly deceived in her designs on the prince! This little catastrophe took place in the evening: it suddenly came to light that the prince was as poor as a church mouse and that he had been counting on borrowing money from her in exchange for his promissory note so that he could play roulette. Blanche indignantly sent him packing and locked herself in her room.
On the morning of that same day I went to see Mr Astley or, to be more precise, I had spent all morning trying to track him down, but wasn’t able to do so. He wasn’t at home, or in the casino, or in the park. He hadn’t dined at his hotel that day. It was going on five o’clock when I suddenly caught sight of him making his way from the railroad platform straight for the Hotel d’Angleterre. He was in a hurry and very preoccupied, although it was difficult to detect signs of worry or any other sort of distress on his face. He cordially held out his hand to me with his usual exclamation of ‘Ah!’, but without stopping and continuing on his way down the road at a rather fast clip. I tagged along behind him; but somehow he managed to answer me in such a way that I didn’t succeed in asking him about anything. Besides, for some reason I was terribly embarrassed to bring up Polina; he himself didn’t ask a word about her. I told him about Grandmother; he heard me out attentively and seriously and shrugged his shoulders.
‘She’ll lose everything,’ I observed.
‘Oh, yes,’ he answered. ‘You see, she had just gone to play when I was leaving, and I knew for certain that she would lose everything. If there’s time, I’ll stop by the casino, because it will be interesting to have a look …’
‘Where have you been?’ I exclaimed, amazed that I hadn’t asked yet.
‘I was in Frankfurt.’
‘On business?’
‘Yes, on business.’
Well, what else could I ask? However, I kept walking beside him, until he suddenly turned into the Hotel de Quatre Saisons, situated there beside the road, nodded to me and disappeared inside. As I was making my way back home, I came to realize, little by little, that even if I had talked with him for two hours I would still not have learned anything at all, because … because I had nothing to ask him! Yes, of course, that’s it! There was no way for me to formulate my question now.
All that day Polina was either strolling with the children and nanny in the park, or at home. She had been avoiding the general for a long time now and hardly spoke to him, at least about anything serious. I had noticed that a long time ago. But knowing the situation the general found himself in today, I thought that he wouldn’t be able to avoid her, that is, they would have to have some sort of important family discussions. However, upon returning to the hotel after my conversation with Mr Astley, I met Polina and the children, and her face showed the most serene tranquillity, as if of all the family the storms had bypassed her. She nodded in answer to my bow. I arrived at my room quite angry.
Of course, I had been avoiding talking to her and we hadn’t seen each other since the incident with the Wurmerhelms. For all that, to some degree it amounted to swagger and posing on my part; but the more time went on, the more I seethed with genuine indignation. Even if she didn’t love me at all, she shouldn’t trample my feelings like that and receive my declarations with such scorn. After all, she knows that I truly love her; after all, she herself has allowed me to speak like that to her! True, it all began somewhat strangely between us. For some time now, from about two months ago, I had begun to notice that she wanted to make me her friend, her confidant, and that she was even testing me to some degree. But for some reason it didn’t work between us; and instead we were left with the present strange relationship; and that’s why I started talking to her like that. But if she finds my love repellent, why doesn’t she forbid me outright to speak of it?
I’m not forbidden; on occasion she has even contrived for me to begin the conversation and … of course, she did this as a joke. I know for certain, I have distinctly noticed that – she found it pleasant after hearing me out and then irritating me to the point of pain, suddenly to disconcert me with some outburst of the greatest scorn and lack of consideration. And she knows, you see, that I can’t live without her. It’s been three days now since the incident with the baron, and I can’t endure our separation any longer. When I saw her just now at the casino, my heart began to pound so that I turned white. But, you see, she can’t live without me either! She needs me and – surely, surely not only to play the buffoon like Balakirev.3
She has a secret – that’s clear! Her conversation with Grandmother had been an agonizing wrench to my heart. You see, I’d appealed to her a thousand times to be open with me, and she knew, you see, that I really was prepared to lay down my life for her. But she had always regarded this lightly, almost with scorn – or instead of the sacrifice of my life, which I had offered her, she asked for escapades like the one with the baron! Isn’t that an outrage? Can that Frenchman really mean the whole world to her? And what about Mr Astley? But here the matter becomes decidedly incomprehensible; meanwhile, my God! how I have suffered!
Upon my arrival home, in a fit of rage, I seized my pen and dashed off the following:
Polina Alexandrovna, I see clearly that things are coming to a head, and, of course, this will affect you as well. I repeat for the last time: do you need my life or not? If you need it, for anything at all – it’s at your disposal; meanwhile, I’ll stay in my room, at least for the most part, and won’t go anywhere. If you need me – then write or send for me.
I sealed this note and sent it with the floor attendant, with instructions that it be delivered straight into her hands. I did not expect an answer, but three minutes later the attendant returned with the news that she ‘sends her compliments’.
It was after six when I was summoned to the general’s.
He was in his study, dressed as though he was just about to go out. His hat and stick lay on the sofa. I had the impression when I entered that he had been standing in the middle of the room, with his legs planted apart, his head lowered, and talking out loud to himself. But as soon as he caught sight of me, he rushed towards me almost shouting, so that I involuntarily took a step backwards and wanted to run away; but he grabbed me by both hands and dragged me towards the sofa; he sat down on it himself, and seated me directly across from him in an armchair, and, without letting go of my hands, with trembling lips, with tears suddenly glistening on his eyelashes, he uttered in an imploring voice:
‘Alexey Ivanovich, save me, save me, have mercy on me!’
For a long time I couldn’t understand a thing; he kept talking, talking, talking and repeating: ‘Have mercy on me! Have mercy on me!’ Finally, I guessed that he was expecting some sort of advice from me; or rather, abandoned by everybody, anxious and alarmed, he suddenly thought of me and summoned me just so that he could talk, talk, talk.
He had lost his mind, or at the very least he was utterly at his wits’ end. He clasped his hands together and was ready to fall down before me on his knees so that (what do you think?) – so that I would immediately go to see Mlle Blanche and beg her, appeal to her to come back and marry him.
‘For pity’s sake, General,’ I cried out, ‘Mlle Blanche most likely is not even aware of my existence. What can I do?’
But my objections were made in vain; he didn’t understand what was said to him. And then he launched into talking about Grandmother as well, but it was all terribly incoherent; he was still in favour of the idea of sending for the police.
‘Back home, back home,’ he began, suddenly seething with indignation, ‘in a word, back home, in a well-ordered state, where there are authorities, old ladies like that would be fixed up at once with a guardian! Yes, my dear sir, yes,’ he continued, suddenly adopting a reproving tone, jumping up from his seat and pacing up and down the room; ‘you still don’t know that, my dear sir,’ (he was addressing some imaginary dear sir in the corner), ‘well, you’ll find out now … yes, sir … back home old women like that
are made to knuckle under, under, under, yes, sir … Oh, the devil take it!’
And he threw himself on the sofa again, and a minute later, almost sobbing, gasping for breath, he hurriedly told me that Mlle Blanche would not marry him because Grandmother had come instead of a telegram and that now it was clear that he wouldn’t come into the inheritance. He seemed to think that I didn’t know about any of this. I began to speak about des Grieux; he waved his hand:
‘He’s gone! I’ve mortgaged everything I have to him; I’m as poor as a church mouse! The money you brought … that money – I don’t know how much there is, perhaps 700 francs remain and – enough, sir, that’s all there is, but after that – I don’t know, sir, I don’t know! …’
‘How will you pay your hotel bill?’ I cried out in alarm. ‘And … what’s to happen afterwards?’
He looked around pensively, but didn’t seem to understand anything and perhaps didn’t even hear me. I tried to bring the conversation around to Polina Alexandrovna and the children; he replied hastily: ‘Yes, yes!’ – but at once started talking about the prince again, about how he would now leave with Blanche and then … and then … ‘What am I to do, Alexey Ivanovich?’ he turned to me suddenly. ‘I swear to God! What am I to do – tell me, what ingratitude! Isn’t this ingratitude?’
Finally, he burst into floods of tears.
There was nothing to be done with a man like this; it was dangerous to leave him alone; something might happen to him. However, I somehow managed to get away from him, though I let the nanny know that she should look in on him frequently, and, on top of that, I spoke with the floor attendant, a very sensible fellow; he also promised that he would keep an eye on him.
The Gambler and Other Stories (Penguin ed.) Page 30