"Receipt given," I echoed.
"Really, when one comes to think of it, the situation is striking.
Here are you, Jasper Trenoweth, inheritor of the Great Ruby of Ceylon, besides other treasure too paltry to mention, in danger of starving in a garret. Here am I, Thomas Loveday, author of "Francesca: a Tragedy," and other masterpieces too numerous to catalogue, with every prospect of sharing your fate. The situation is striking, Jasper, you"ll allow."
"What did the manager say about it?" I asked.
"Only just enough to show he had not looked at it. He was more occupied with my appearance; and yet we agreed before I set out that your trousers might have been made for me. They are the most specious articles in our joint wardrobe: I thought to myself as walked along to-day, Jasper, that after all it is not the coat that makes the gentleman--it"s the trousers. Now, in the matter of boots, I surpa.s.s you. If yours decay at their present rate, your walks in Oxford Street will become a luxury."
I was silent again.
"I do not recollect any case in fiction of a man being baulked of his revenge for the want of a pair of boots. Cheer up, Jasper, boy," he continued, rising and placing a hand on my shoulder. "We have been fools, and have paid for it. You thought you could find your enemy in London, and find the hiding-place too big. I thought I could write, and find I cannot. As for legitimate work, sixteen and eightpence halfpenny, even with economy, will hardly carry us on for three years."
I rose. "I will have one more walk in Oxford Street," I said, "and then come home and see this miserable farce of starvation out."
"Don"t be a fool, Jasper. It is difficult, I know, to perish with dignity on sixteen and eightpence halfpenny: the odd coppers spoil the effect. Still we might bestow them on a less squeamish beggar and redeem our pride."
"Tom," I said, suddenly, "you lost a lot of money once over _rouge-et-noir_."
"Don"t remind me of that, Jasper."
"No, no; but where did you lose it?"
"At a gambling h.e.l.l off Leicester Square. But why--"
"Should you know the place again? Could you find it?"
"Easily."
"Then let us go and try our luck with this miserable sum."
"Don"t be a fool, Jasper. What mad notion has taken you now?"
"I have never gambled in my life," I answered, "and may as well have a little excitement before the end comes. It"s not much of a sum, as you say; but the thought that we are playing for life or death may make up for that. Let us start at once."
"It is the maddest folly."
"Very well, Tom, we will share this. There may be some little difficulty over the halfpenny, but I don"t mind throwing that in.
We will take half each, and you can h.o.a.rd whilst I tempt fortune."
"Jasper," said Tom, his eyes filling with tears, "you have said a hard thing, but I know you don"t mean it. If you are absolutely set on this silly freak, we will stand or fall together."
"Very well," said I, "we will stand or fall together, for I am perfectly serious. The six and eightpence halfpenny, no more and no less, I propose to spend in supper. After that we shall be better prepared to face our chance. Do you agree?"
"I agree," said Tom, sadly.
We took our hats, extinguished the candle, and stumbled down the stairs into the night.
We ordered supper at an eating-house in the Strand, and in all my life I cannot recall a merrier meal than this, which, for all we knew, would be our last. The very thought lent a touch of bravado to my humour, and presently Tom caught the infection. It was not a sumptuous meal in itself, but princely to our ordinary fare; and the unaccustomed taste of beer loosened our tongues, until our mirth fairly astonished our fellow-diners. At length the waiter came with the news that it was time for closing. Tom called for the bill, and finding that it came to half-a-crown apiece, ordered two sixpenny cigars, and tossed the odd eightpence halfpenny to the waiter, announcing at the same time that this was our last meal on earth.
This done, he gravely handed me four half-crowns, and rose to leave.
I rose also, and once more we stepped into the night.
Since the days of which I write, Leicester Square has greatly changed. Then it was an intricate, and, by night, even a dangerous quarter, chiefly given over to foreigners. As we trudged through innumerable by-streets and squalid alleys, I wondered if Tom had not forgotten his way. At length, however, we turned up a blind alley, lit by one struggling gas-jet, and knocked at a low door.
It was opened almost immediately, and we groped our way up another black pa.s.sage to a second door. Here Tom gave three knocks very loud and distinct. A voice cried, "Open," the door swung back before us, and a blaze of light flashed in our faces.
CHAPTER II.
TELLS OF THE LUCK OF THE GOLDEN CLASP.
As the door swung back I became conscious first of a flood of light that completely dazzled my eyes, next of the buzz of many voices that confused my hearing. By slow degrees, however, the noise and glare grew familiar and my senses were able to take in the strange scene.
I stood in a large room furnished after the fashion of a drawing-room, and resplendent with candles and gilding. The carpet was rich, the walls were hung with pictures, which if garish in colour were not tasteless in design, and between these glittered a quant.i.ty of gilded mirrors that caught and reflected the rays of a huge candelabrum depending from the centre of the ceiling.
Innumerable wax candles also shone in various parts of the room, while here and there rich chairs and sofas were disposed; but these were for the most part unoccupied, for the guests were cl.u.s.tered together beneath the great candelabrum.
They were about thirty in number, and from their appearance I judged them to belong to very different cla.s.ses of society. Some were poorly and even miserably attired, others adorned with gorgeous, and not a few with valuable, jewellery. Here stood one who from his clothes seemed to be a poor artisan; there lounged a fop in evening dress. There was also a sprinkling of women, and not a few wore masks of some black stuff concealing the upper part of their faces.
But the strangest feature of the company was that one and all were entirely and even breathlessly watching the table in their midst.
Even the idlest scarcely raised his eyes to greet us as we entered, and for a moment or two I paused at the door as one who had no business with this strange a.s.semblage. During these few moments I was able to grasp the main points of what I saw.
The guests were grouped around the table, some sitting and others standing behind their chairs. The table itself was oblong in shape, and at its head sat the most extraordinary woman it had ever been my lot to behold. She was of immense age, and so wrinkled that her face seemed a very network of deeply-printed lines. Her complexion, even in the candle-light, was of a deep yellow, such as is rarely seen in the most jaundiced faces. Despite her age, her features were bold and bore traces of a rare beauty outlived; her eyes were of a deep yet glittering black, and as they flashed from the table to the faces of her guests, seemed never to wink or change for an instant their look of intense alertness.
But what was most noteworthy in this strange woman was neither her eyes, her wrinkles, nor her curious colour, but the amazing quant.i.ty of jewels that she wore. As she sat there beneath the glare of the candelabrum she positively blazed with gems. With every motion of her quick hands a hundred points of fire leapt out from the diamonds on her fingers; with every turn of her wrinkled neck the light played upon innumerable facets; and all the time those cold, l.u.s.trous eyes scintillated as brightly as the stones. She was engaged in the game as we entered, and turned her gaze upon us for an instant only, but that momentary flash was so cold, so absolutely un-human, that I doubted if I looked upon reality. The whole a.s.sembly seemed rather like a room full of condemned spirits, with this woman sitting as presiding judge.
As we still stood by the door a hush fell on the company; men and women seemed to catch their breath and bend more intently over the table. There was a pause; then someone called the number "Thirty-one," and the buzz of voices broke out again--a mixture of exclamations and disappointed murmurs. Then, and not till then, did the woman at the head of the table speak, and when she spoke her words were addressed to us.
"Come in, gentlemen, come in. You have not chosen your moment well, for the Bank is winning; but you are none the less welcome."
Her eyes as she turned them again upon us did not alter their expression. They were--though I can scarcely hope that this description will be understood--at once perfectly vigilant and absolutely impa.s.sive. But even more amazing was the voice that contradicted both these impressions, being most sweetly and delicately modulated, with a musical ring that charmed the ear as the notes of a well-sung song. The others, hearing us addressed, turned an incurious gaze upon us for a moment, and then fastened their attention anew upon the table.
Thus welcomed, we too stepped forward to the centre of the room and began to watch the game. I have never seen roulette played elsewhere, so do not know if its accessories greatly vary, but this is what I saw.
The table, which I have described as oblong, was lined to the width of about a foot around the edge with green baize, and on this were piled heaps of gold and silver, some greater, some less. Sunk in the centre was a well, in which a large needle revolved upon a pivot at a turn of the hand. The whole looked like a large ship"s compa.s.s, but instead of north, south, east, and west, the table around the well, and at a level with the compa.s.s, was marked out into alternate s.p.a.ces of red and black, bearing--one on each s.p.a.ce--the figures from 1 to 36, and ending in 0, so that in all there were thirty-seven s.p.a.ces, the one bearing the cipher being opposite to the strange woman who presided. As the game began again the players staked their money on one or another of these s.p.a.ces. I also gathered that they could stake on either black or red, or again on one of the three dozens-- 1 to 12, 13 to 24, 25 to 36. When all the money was staked, the woman bent forward, and with a sweep of her arm sent the needle spinning round upon its mission.
Thrice she did this, thrice the eager faces bent over the revolving needle, and each time I gathered from the murmurs around me that the bank had won heavily. At the end of the third round the hostess looked up and said to Loveday--
"You have been here before, and, if I remember rightly, were unfortunate. Come and sit near me when you have a chance, and perhaps you may break this run of luck. Even I am tiring of it.
Or better still, get that dark handsome friend of yours to stake for you. Have you ever played before?" she asked, turning to me.
I shook my head.
"All the better. Fortune always favours beginners, and if it does I shall be well recompensed to have so handsome a youth beside me," and with this she turned to the game again.
At her right sat a grey-headed man with worn face and wolfish eyes, who might have been expected to take this as a hint to make way.
But he never heard a word. All his sense was concentrated on the board before him, and his only motion was to bend more closely and eagerly over the play. Tom whispered in my ear--
"You have the money, Jasper; take her advice if you really mean to play this farce out. Take the seat if you get a chance, and play your own game."