Nicholas Nickleby
busy movement. Some hurried eagerly to catch a glimpse of the winning
horse; others darted to and fro, searching, no less eagerly, for the
carriages they had left in quest of better stations. Here, a little knot
gathered round a pea and thimble table to watch the plucking of some
unhappy greenhorn; and there, another proprietor with his confederates
in various disguises--one man in spectacles; another, with an eyeglass
and a stylish hat; a third, dressed as a farmer well to do in the world,
with his top-coat over his arm and his flash notes in a large leathern
pocket-book; and all with heavy-handled whips to represent most innocent
country fellows who had trotted there on horseback--sought, by loud and
noisy talk and pretended play, to entrap some unwary customer, while the
gentlemen confederates (of more villainous aspect still, in clean linen
and good clothes), betrayed their close interest in the concern by
the anxious furtive glance they cast on all new comers. These would be
hanging on the outskirts of a wide circle of people assembled round some
itinerant juggler, opposed, in his turn, by a noisy band of music,
or the classic game of ‘Ring the Bull,’ while ventriloquists holding
dialogues with wooden dolls, and fortune-telling women smothering the
cries of real babies, divided with them, and many more, the general
attention of the company. Drinking-tents were full, glasses began to
clink in carriages, hampers to be unpacked, tempting provisions to be
set forth, knives and forks to rattle, champagne corks to fly, eyes to
brighten that were not dull before, and pickpockets to count their gains
during the last heat. The attention so recently strained on one object
of interest, was now divided among a hundred; and look where you would,
there was a motley assemblage of feasting, laughing, talking, begging,
gambling, and mummery.
Of the gambling-booths there was a plentiful show, flourishing in all
the splendour of carpeted ground, striped hangings, crimson cloth,
pinnacled roofs, geranium pots, and livery servants. There were the
Stranger’s club-house, the Athenaeum club-house, the Hampton club-house,
the St James’s club-house, and half a mile of club-houses to play IN;
and there were ROUGE-ET-NOIR, French hazard, and other games to play AT.
It is into one of these booths that our story takes its way.
Fitted up with three tables for the purposes of play, and crowded with
players and lookers on, it was, although the largest place of the kind
upon the course, intensely hot, notwithstanding that a portion of the
canvas roof was rolled back to admit more air, and there were two doors
for a free passage in and out. Excepting one or two men who, each with a
long roll of half-crowns, chequered with a few stray sovereigns, in
his left hand, staked their money at every roll of the ball with a
business-like sedateness which showed that they were used to it, and had
been playing all day, and most probably all the day before, there was
no very distinctive character about the players, who were chiefly young
men, apparently attracted by curiosity, or staking small sums as part
of the amusement of the day, with no very great interest in winning or
losing. There were two persons present, however, who, as peculiarly good
specimens of a class, deserve a passing notice.
Of these, one was a man of six or eight and fifty, who sat on a chair
near one of the entrances of the booth, with his hands folded on the
top of his stick, and his chin appearing above them. He was a tall, fat,
long-bodied man, buttoned up to the throat in a light green coat, which
made his body look still longer than it was. He wore, besides, drab
breeches and gaiters, a white neckerchief, and a broad-brimmed white
hat. Amid all the buzzing noise of the games, and the perpetual passing
in and out of the people, he seemed perfectly calm and abstracted,
without the smallest particle of excitement in his composition. He
exhibited no indication of weariness, nor, to a casual observer, of
interest either. There he sat, quite still and collected. Sometimes, but
very rarely, he nodded to some passing face, or beckoned to a waiter to
obey a call from one of the tables. The next instant he subsided into
his old state. He might have been some profoundly deaf old gentleman,
who had come in to take a rest, or he might have been patiently waiting
for a friend, without the least consciousness of anybody’s presence, or
fixed in a trance, or under the influence of opium. People turned round
and looked at him; he made no gesture, caught nobody’s eye, let them
pass away, and others come on and be succeeded by others, and took no
notice. When he did move, it seemed wonderful how he could have seen
anything to occasion it. And so, in truth, it was. But there was not a
face that passed in or out, which this man failed to see; not a gesture
at any one of the three tables that was lost upon him; not a word,
spoken by the bankers, but reached his ear; not a winner or loser he
could not have marked. And he was the proprietor of the place.
The other presided over the ROUGE-ET-NOIR table. He was probably some
ten years younger, and was a plump, paunchy, sturdy-looking fellow, with
his under-lip a little pursed, from a habit of counting money inwardly
as he paid it, but with no decidedly bad expression in his face, which
was rather an honest and jolly one than otherwise. He wore no coat,
the weather being hot, and stood behind the table with a huge mound of
crowns and half-crowns before him, and a cash-box for notes. This game
was constantly playing. Perhaps twenty people would be staking at the
same time. This man had to roll the ball, to watch the stakes as they
were laid down, to gather them off the colour which lost, to pay those
who won, to do it all with the utmost dispatch, to roll the ball again,
and to keep this game perpetually alive. He did it all with a rapidity
absolutely marvellous; never hesitating, never making a mistake, never
stopping, and never ceasing to repeat such unconnected phrases as
the following, which, partly from habit, and partly to have something
appropriate and business-like to say, he constantly poured out with the
same monotonous emphasis, and in nearly the same order, all day long:
‘Rooge-a-nore from Paris! Gentlemen, make your game and back your
own opinions--any time while the ball rolls--rooge-a-nore from Paris,
gentlemen, it’s a French game, gentlemen, I brought it over myself, I
did indeed!--Rooge-a-nore from Paris--black wins--black--stop a minute,
sir, and I’ll pay you, directly--two there, half a pound there, three
there--and one there--gentlemen, the ball’s a rolling--any time, sir,
while the ball rolls!--The beauty of this game is, that you can double
your stakes or put down your money, gentlemen, any time while the ball
rolls--black again--black wins--I never saw such a thing--I never did,
in all my life, upon my word I never did; if any gentleman had
been backing the black in the last five minutes he must have won
five-and-forty pound in four rolls of the ball, he must indeed.
Gentlemen, we’ve port, sherry, cigars, and most excellent champagne.
Here, wai-ter, bring a bottle of champagne, and let’s have a dozen or
fifteen cigars here--and let’s be comfortable, gentlemen--and bring some
clean glasses--any time while the ball rolls!--I lost one hundred and
thirty-seven pound yesterday, gentlemen, at one roll of the ball, I
did indeed!--how do you do, sir?’ (recognising some knowing gentleman
without any halt or change of voice, and giving a wink so slight that
it seems an accident), ‘will you take a glass of sherry, sir?--here,
wai-ter! bring a clean glass, and hand the sherry to this gentleman--and
hand it round, will you, waiter?--this is the rooge-a-nore from Paris,
gentlemen--any time while the ball rolls!--gentlemen, make your game,
and back your own opinions--it’s the rooge-a-nore from Paris--quite a
new game, I brought it over myself, I did indeed--gentlemen, the ball’s
a-rolling!’
This officer was busily plying his vocation when half-a-dozen persons
sauntered through the booth, to whom, but without stopping either in his
speech or work, he bowed respectfully; at the same time directing, by
a look, the attention of a man beside him to the tallest figure in the
group, in recognition of whom the proprietor pulled off his hat. This
was Sir Mulberry Hawk, with whom were his friend and pupil, and a small
train of gentlemanly-dressed men, of characters more doubtful than
obscure.
The proprietor, in a low voice, bade Sir Mulberry good-day. Sir
Mulberry, in the same tone, bade the proprietor go to the devil, and
turned to speak with his friends.
There was evidently an irritable consciousness about him that he was an
object of curiosity, on this first occasion of showing himself in public
after the accident that had befallen him; and it was easy to perceive
that he appeared on the race-course, that day, more in the hope of
meeting with a great many people who knew him, and so getting over as
much as possible of the annoyance at once, than with any purpose of
enjoying the sport. There yet remained a slight scar upon his face,
and whenever he was recognised, as he was almost every minute by people
sauntering in and out, he made a restless effort to conceal it with his
glove; showing how keenly he felt the disgrace he had undergone.
‘Ah! Hawk,’ said one very sprucely-dressed personage in a Newmarket
coat, a choice neckerchief, and all other accessories of the most
unexceptionable kind. ‘How d’ye do, old fellow?’
This was a rival trainer of young noblemen and gentlemen, and the person
of all others whom Sir Mulberry most hated and dreaded to meet. They
shook hands with excessive cordiality.
‘And how are you now, old fellow, hey?’
‘Quite well, quite well,’ said Sir Mulberry.
‘That’s right,’ said the other. ‘How d’ye do, Verisopht? He’s a little
pulled down, our friend here. Rather out of condition still, hey?’
It should be observed that the gentleman had very white teeth, and that
when there was no excuse for laughing, he generally finished with the
same monosyllable, which he uttered so as to display them.
‘He’s in very good condition; there’s nothing the matter with him,’ said
the young man carelessly.
‘Upon my soul I’m glad to hear it,’ rejoined the other. ‘Have you just
returned from Brussels?’
‘We only reached town late last night,’ said Lord Frederick. Sir
Mulberry turned away to speak to one of his own party, and feigned not
to hear.
‘Now, upon my life,’ said the friend, affecting to speak in a whisper,
‘it’s an uncommonly bold and game thing in Hawk to show himself so soon.
I say it advisedly; there’s a vast deal of courage in it. You see he has
just rusticated long enough to excite curiosity, and not long enough for
men to have forgotten that deuced unpleasant--by-the-bye--you know the
rights of the affair, of course? Why did you never give those confounded
papers the lie? I seldom read the papers, but I looked in the papers for
that, and may I be--’
‘Look in the papers,’ interrupted Sir Mulberry, turning suddenly round,
‘tomorrow--no, next day, will you?’
‘Upon my life, my dear fellow, I seldom or never read the papers,’ said
the other, shrugging his shoulders, ‘but I will, at your recommendation.
What shall I look for?’
‘Good day,’ said Sir Mulberry, turning abruptly on his heel, and drawing
his pupil with him. Falling, again, into the loitering, careless pace at
which they had entered, they lounged out, arm in arm.
‘I won’t give him a case of murder to read,’ muttered Sir Mulberry with
an oath; ‘but it shall be something very near it if whipcord cuts and
bludgeons bruise.’
His companion said nothing, but there was something in his manner which