Part 37 (1/2)
For my own part, I gradually came to my senses, and with difficulty regained my chaise, the driver of which told me I had been gone about an hour. I drove off to town, wholly unaware that I had been observed by anyone, much less by Emily. When she related to her father what she had seen, he either disbelieved or effected to disbelieve it, and treated it as the effect of a distempered mind--the phantom of a disordered imagination; and she at length began to coincide with him.
I started for the Continent a few days afterwards. Talbot, who had seen little of Clara since my rejection by Emily, and subsequent illness, offered my father to accompany me; and Clara was anxious that he should go, as she was determined not to listen to anything he could say during my affliction; she could not, she said, be happy while I was miserable, and gave him no opportunity of conversing with her on the subject of their union.
We arrived at Paris; but so abstracted was I in thought that I neither saw nor heard anything. Every attention of Talbot was lost upon me. I continued in my sullen stupor, and forgot to read the little book which dear Clara had given, and which, for her sake I had promised to read. I wrote to Eugenia on my arrival; and disburthened my mind in some measure, by acknowledging my shameful treatment of her. I implored her pardon, and, by return of post received it. Her answer was affectionate and consoling; but she stated that her spirits, of course, were low, and her health but indifferent.
For many days my mind remained in a state of listless inanity; and Talbot applied, or suffered others to apply, the most pernicious stimulant that could be thought of to rouse me to action. Taking a quiet walk with him, we met some friends of his; and, at their request, we agreed to go to the saloons of the Palais Royal. This was a desperate remedy, and by a miracle only was I saved from utter and irretrievable ruin. How many of my countrymen have fallen victims to the arts practised in that horrible school of vice, I dare not say!
Happy should I be to think that the infection had not reached our own sh.o.r.es, and found patrons among the great men of the land. They have, however, both felt the consequences and been forewarned of the danger.
_They_ have no excuse; _mine_ was, that I had been excluded from the society of those I loved. Always living by excitement, was it surprising that, when a gaming-table displayed its h.o.a.rds before me, I should have fallen at once into the snare?
For the first time since my illness, I became interested, and laid down my money on those abhorred tables. My success was variable; but I congratulated myself that at length I had found a stimulus, and I anxiously awaited the return of the hour when the doors would again be opened, and the rooms lighted up for the reception of company. I won considerably; and night after night found me at the table--for avarice is insatiable; but my good luck left me; and then the same motive induced me to return, with the hope of winning back what I had lost.
Still fortune was unpropitious, and I lost very considerable sums. I became desperate, and drew largely on my father. He wrote to beg that I would be more moderate; as twice his income would not support such an expenditure. He wrote also to Talbot, who informed him in what manner the money had been expended; and that he had in vain endeavoured to divert me from the fatal practice. Finding that no limits were likely to be put to my folly, my father very properly refused to honour any more of my bills.
Maddened with this intimation, for which I secretly blamed Talbot, I drew upon Eugenia's banker, bill after bill, until the sum amounted to more than what my father had paid. At length a letter came from Eugenia: it was but a few lines.
”I know too well, my dearest friend,” said she, ”what becomes of the money you have received. If you want it all, I cannot refuse you; but remember that you are throwing away the property of your child.”
This letter did more to rouse me to a sense of my infamous conduct than the advice of Talbot, or the admonitions of my father. I felt I was acting like a scoundrel, and I resolved to leave off gaming. ”One night more,” said I, ”and then, if I lose, there is an end of it; I go no more.” Talbot attended me: he felt he was in some measure the cause of my being first initiated in this pernicious amus.e.m.e.nt: and he watched my motions with unceasing anxiety.
The game was _rouge-et-noir_. I threw a large sum on the red, I won, left the stake, doubled, and won again. The heap of gold had increased to a large size, and still remained to abide the chance of the card.
Again, again, and again, it was doubled. Seven times had the red card been turned up, and seven times had my gold been doubled. Talbot, who stood behind me, implored and begged me earnestly to leave off.
”What may be the consequence of one card against you? Trust no more to fortune; be content with what you have got.”
”That,” muttered I, ”Talbot, is of no use; I must have more.”
Again came up the red, to the astonishment of the bystanders; and to their still greater astonishment, my gold, which had increased to an enormous heap, still remained on the table. Talbot again intreated me not to tempt fortune foolishly.
”Folly,” said I, ”Talbot, has already been committed; and one more card will do the business. It must be done.”
The bankers knowing, after eight red cards had been turned up, how great the chance was of regaining all their losses by a double or quits, agreed to the ninth card. Talbot trembled like a leaf. The card was turned; it came up red, and the bank was broken.
Here all play ceased for the night. The losers, of course, vented their feelings in the most blasphemous execrations; while I quietly collected all my winnings, and returned home in a _fiacre_, with Talbot, who took the precaution of requesting the attendance of two _gendarmes_. These were each rewarded with a Napoleon.
”Now, Talbot,” said I, ”I solemnly swear, as I hope to go to heaven, never to play again.” And this promise I have most religiously kept.
My good fortune was one instance in ten thousand, among those who have been ruined in that house. The next morning I refunded all I had drawn upon Eugenia, and all my father had supplied me with, and there still remained a considerable residue.
Determined not to continue in this vortex of dissipation any longer, where my resolution was hourly put to the test, Talbot and myself agreed to travel down to Brest, an a.r.s.enal we were both desirous of seeing.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
_Pal_.
Thou art a traitor, Arcite, and a fellow False as thy t.i.tle to her. Friends.h.i.+p, blood, And all the ties between us, I disclaim.
_Arc_.
You are mad.
_Pal_.
I must be, Till thou art worthy, Arcite; it concerns me!