The Gambler
“Very well, then. Marry him.”
And, in truth, she did so—though the marriage was a family one only,
and involved no pomp or ceremony. In fact, she invited to the nuptials
none but Albert and a few other friends. Hortense, Cléopatre, and the
rest she kept firmly at a distance. As for the bridegroom, he took a
great interest in his new position. Blanche herself tied his tie, and
Blanche herself pomaded him—with the result that, in his frockcoat and
white waistcoat, he looked quite comme il faut.
“Il est, pourtant, _très_ comme il faut,” Blanche remarked when she
issued from his room, as though the idea that he was “_très_ comme il
faut” had impressed even her. For myself, I had so little knowledge of
the minor details of the affair, and took part in it so much as a
supine spectator, that I have forgotten most of what passed on this
occasion. I only remember that Blanche and the Widow figured at it, not
as “de Cominges,” but as “du Placet.” Why they had hitherto been “de
Cominges” I do not know—I only know that this entirely satisfied the
General, that he liked the name “du Placet” even better than he had
liked the name “de Cominges.” On the morning of the wedding, he paced
the salon in his gala attire and kept repeating to himself with an air
of great gravity and importance: “Mlle. Blanche du Placet! Mlle.
Blanche du Placet, du Placet!” He beamed with satisfaction as he did
so. Both in the church and at the wedding breakfast he remained not
only pleased and contented, but even proud. She too underwent a change,
for now she assumed an air of added dignity.
“I must behave altogether differently,” she confided to me with a
serious air. “Yet, mark you, there is a tiresome circumstance of which
I had never before thought—which is, how best to pronounce my new
family name. Zagorianski, Zagozianski, Madame la Générale de Sago,
Madame la Générale de Fourteen Consonants—oh these infernal Russian
names! The _last_ of them would be the best to use, don’t you think?”
At length the time had come for us to part, and Blanche, the egregious
Blanche, shed real tears as she took her leave of me. “Tu étais bon
enfant” she said with a sob. “Je te croyais bête et tu en avais l’air,
but it suited you.” Then, having given me a final handshake, she
exclaimed, “Attends!”; whereafter, running into her boudoir, she
brought me thence two thousand-franc notes. I could scarcely believe my
eyes! “They may come in handy for you,” she explained, “for, though you
are a very learned tutor, you are a very stupid man. More than two
thousand francs, however, I am not going to give you, for the reason
that, if I did so, you would gamble them all away. Now good-bye. Nous
serons toujours bons amis, and if you win again, do not fail to come to
me, et tu seras heureux.”
I myself had still five hundred francs left, as well as a watch worth a
thousand francs, a few diamond studs, and so on. Consequently, I could
subsist for quite a length of time without particularly bestirring
myself. Purposely I have taken up my abode where I am now partly to
pull myself together, and partly to wait for Mr. Astley, who, I have
learnt, will soon be here for a day or so on business. Yes, I know
that, and then—and then I shall go to Homburg. But to Roulettenberg I
shall not go until next year, for they say it is bad to try one’s luck
twice in succession at a table. Moreover, Homburg is where the best
play is carried on.
XVII
It is a year and eight months since I last looked at these notes of
mine. I do so now only because, being overwhelmed with depression, I
wish to distract my mind by reading them through at random. I left them
off at the point where I was just going to Homburg. My God, with what a
light heart (comparatively speaking) did I write the concluding
lines!—though it may be not so much with a light heart, as with a
measure of self-confidence and unquenchable hope. At that time had I
any doubts of myself? Yet behold me now. Scarcely a year and a half
have passed, yet I am in a worse position than the meanest beggar. But
what is a beggar? A fig for beggary! I have ruined myself—that is all.
Nor is there anything with which I can compare myself; there is no
moral which it would be of any use for you to read to me. At the
present moment nothing could well be more incongruous than a moral. Oh,
you self-satisfied persons who, in your unctuous pride, are forever
ready to mouth your maxims—if only you knew how fully I myself
comprehend the sordidness of my present state, you would not trouble to
wag your tongues at me! What could you say to me that I do not already
know? Well, wherein lies my difficulty? It lies in the fact that by a
single turn of a roulette wheel everything for me, has become changed.
Yet, had things befallen otherwise, these moralists would have been
among the first (yes, I feel persuaded of it) to approach me with
friendly jests and congratulations. Yes, they would never have turned
from me as they are doing now! A fig for all of them! What am I? I am
zero—nothing. What shall I be tomorrow? I may be risen from the dead,
and have begun life anew. For still, I may discover the man in myself,
if only my manhood has not become utterly shattered.
I went, I say, to Homburg, but afterwards went also to Roulettenberg,
as well as to Spa and Baden; in which latter place, for a time, I acted
as valet to a certain rascal of a Privy Councillor, by name Heintze,
who until lately was also my master here. Yes, for five months I lived
my life with lacqueys! That was just after I had come out of
Roulettenberg prison, where I had lain for a small debt which I owed.
Out of that prison I was bailed by—by whom? By Mr. Astley? By Polina? I
do not know. At all events, the debt was paid to the tune of two
hundred thalers, and I sallied forth a free man. But what was I to do
with myself? In my dilemma I had recourse to this Heintze, who was a
young scapegrace, and the sort of man who could speak and write three
languages. At first I acted as his secretary, at a salary of thirty
gülden a month, but afterwards I became his lacquey, for the reason
that he could not afford to keep a secretary—only an unpaid servant. I
had nothing else to turn to, so I remained with him, and allowed myself
to become his flunkey. But by stinting myself in meat and drink I
saved, during my five months of service, some seventy gülden; and one
evening, when we were at Baden, I told him that I wished to resign my
post, and then hastened to betake myself to roulette.
Oh, how my heart beat as I did so! No, it was not the money that I
valued—what I wanted was to make all this mob of Heintzes, hotel
proprietors, and fine ladies of Baden talk about me, recount my story,
wonder at me, extol my doings, and worship my winnings. True, these
were childish fancies and aspirations, but who knows but that I might
meet Polina, and be able to tell her everything, and see her look of
surprise at the fact that I had overcome so many adverse strokes of
fortune. No, I had no desire for money for its own sake, for I was
perfectly well aware that I should only squander it upon some new
Blanche, and spend another three weeks in Paris after buying a pair of
horses which had cost sixteen thousand francs. No, I never believed
myself to be a hoarder; in fact, I knew only too well that I was a
spendthrift. And already, with a sort of fear, a sort of sinking in my
heart, I could hear the cries of the croupiers—“Trente et un, rouge,
impair et passe,” “Quarte, noir, pair et manque.” How greedily I gazed
upon the gaming-table, with its scattered louis d’or, ten-gülden
pieces, and thalers; upon the streams of gold as they issued from the
croupier’s hands, and piled themselves up into heaps of gold
scintillating as fire; upon the ell—long rolls of silver lying around
the croupier. Even at a distance of two rooms I could hear the chink of
that money—so much so that I nearly fell into convulsions.
Ah, the evening when I took those seventy gülden to the gaming table
was a memorable one for me. I began by staking ten gülden upon passe.
For passe I had always had a sort of predilection, yet I lost my stake
upon it. This left me with sixty gülden in silver. After a moment’s
thought I selected zero—beginning by staking five gülden at a time.
Twice I lost, but the third round suddenly brought up the desired coup.
I could almost have died with joy as I received my one hundred and
seventy-five gülden. Indeed, I have been less pleased when, in former
times, I have won a hundred thousand gülden. Losing no time, I staked
another hundred gülden upon the red, and won; two hundred upon the red,
and won; four hundred upon the black, and won; eight hundred upon
manque, and won. Thus, with the addition of the remainder of my
original capital, I found myself possessed, within five minutes, of
seventeen hundred gülden. Ah, at such moments one forgets both oneself
and one’s former failures! This I had gained by risking my very life. I
had dared so to risk, and behold, again I was a member of mankind!
I went and hired a room, I shut myself up in it, and sat counting my
money until three o’clock in the morning. To think that when I awoke on
the morrow, I was no lacquey! I decided to leave at once for Homburg.
There I should neither have to serve as a footman nor to lie in prison.
Half an hour before starting, I went and ventured a couple of stakes—no
more; with the result that, in all, I lost fifteen hundred florins.
Nevertheless, I proceeded to Homburg, and have now been there for a
month.
Of course, I am living in constant trepidation, playing for the
smallest of stakes, and always looking out for something—calculating,
standing whole days by the gaming-tables to watch the play—even seeing
that play in my dreams—yet seeming, the while, to be in some way
stiffening, to be growing caked, as it were, in mire. But I must
conclude my notes, which I finish under the impression of a recent
encounter with Mr. Astley. I had not seen him since we parted at
Roulettenberg, and now we met quite by accident. At the time I was
walking in the public gardens, and meditating upon the fact that not
only had I still some fifty gülden in my possession, but also I had
fully paid up my hotel bill three days ago. Consequently, I was in a
position to try my luck again at roulette; and if I won anything I
should be able to continue my play, whereas, if I lost what I now
possessed, I should once more have to accept a lacquey’s place,
provided that, in the alternative, I failed to discover a Russian
family which stood in need of a tutor. Plunged in these reflections, I
started on my daily walk through the Park and forest towards a
neighbouring principality. Sometimes, on such occasions, I spent four
hours on the way, and would return to Homburg tired and hungry; but, on
this particular occasion, I had scarcely left the gardens for the Park
when I caught sight of Astley seated on a bench. As soon as he
perceived me, he called me by name, and I went and sat down beside him;
but, on noticing that he seemed a little stiff in his manner, I
hastened to moderate the expression of joy which the sight of him had
called forth.
“_You_ here?” he said. “Well, I had an idea that I should meet you. Do
not trouble to tell me anything, for I know all—yes, all. In fact, your
whole life during the past twenty months lies within my knowledge.”
“How closely you watch the doings of your old friends!” I replied.
“That does you infinite credit. But stop a moment. You have reminded me
of something. Was it you who bailed me out of Roulettenberg prison when
I was lying there for a debt of two hundred gülden? _someone_ did so.”
“Oh dear no!—though I knew all the time that you were lying there.”
“Perhaps you could tell me who _did_ bail me out?”