Part 12 (1/2)
continued he, half-smiling, ”but I declare to you I have been playing almost every day for the last two months.”
”So long as that?” interrupted I, aghast.
”There or thereabouts,” said Oaklands, laughing at the tone of horror in which I had spoken; ”but I was going to say,” he continued, ”that till this moment--looking upon it merely as an amus.e.m.e.nt, something to keep one from going to sleep over a newspaper in that vile reading-room--I have never taken the trouble to consider whether there was any right or wrong in the matter. I am very much obliged to you for the hint, Frank; I'll think it all over to-night, and see how much I owe Master c.u.mberland, and I'll tell you to-morrow what conclusion I have come to.
I hate to do anything in a hurry--even to think; one must take time to do that well.”
We had now reached home, and, mindful of his promise, Oaklands begged Thomas to use his interest with the cook, for the purpose of postponing dinner for a few -73--minutes, in order to give c.u.mberland a chance of being ready--to which Thomas replied:--
”Very well, sir, anything to oblige you, Mr. Oaklands,” muttering to himself as he went off, ”wonder what that chap c.u.mberland is up to now; no good, I'll be bound”.
In another minute we heard his voice in the lower regions, exclaiming:--
”I say, cook, mustn't dish up for the next ten minutes; master ain't quite finished his next Sunday's sermon; he's got hitched just at thirdly and lastly, and mustn't be disturbed; not on no account”;--which produced from that functionary the following pathetic rejoinder:--
”Then, it's hall hup with the pigeon pie, for it will be burnt as black as my blessed shoe by that time!”
As I was descending the stairs, ready to go out, the next day, Oaklands called me into his room, and, closing the door, said:--
”Well, Fairlegh, I have thought over all you said yesterday,--made up my mind--and acted upon it”.
”Bravo!” replied I, ”I am so glad, for, whenever you will but rouse yourself, you are sure to act more rightly and sensibly than anybody else; but what have you done now? Let me hear all about it.”
”Oh, nothing very wonderful,” answered Oaklands; ”when I came to look at my pocket-book, I found I had lost, from first to last, above one hundred and fifty pounds.”
”Good gracious!” cried I, aghast at the magnitude of the sum; ”what will you do?”
Oaklands smiled at my look of horror, and continued:--
”About one hundred pounds of this I still owe c.u.mberland, for, after my ready money was gone, I merely set down on paper all I won or lost, as he said I could pay him at any time, just as it suited me best; and I thought I would wait till I got my next quarter's allowance, pay him out of that, and be very economical ever after. Well, when I saw what the sums amounted to, I found this plan certainly would not answer, and that I was getting into a mess; so I made up my mind to put an end to the thing at once,--and sat down to write to my father, telling him I had been playing billiards every day for some time past with a friend,--of course I did not mention who,--and that, without being at all aware of it, my losses had mounted up till I owed him one hundred pounds. I mentioned at the same time that I had a pretty long bill at Smithson's; and then went on to say that I saw the folly, if not worse than folly, of what I had been doing; and that I applied -74--to him, as the best friend I had in the world,--and I am sure he is too, Frank,--to save me from the consequences of my own imprudence.”
”I am very glad you did that; it was much the wisest thing,” interrupted I.
”As soon as I had written my letter,” continued Oaklands, ”I went to c.u.mberland, and told him that I found I had been going on over fast,--that I owned he was too good a player for me,--and that I therefore did not mean to play any more--and would pay him as soon as I received my father's answer.”
”And what did he say to that?” inquired I.
”Why, he seemed surprised and a little annoyed, I fancied. He denied being the best player, and begged I would not think of paying him yet, saying that I had been unlucky of late, but that, if I would go on boldly, luck was sure to change, and that I should most likely win it all back again.”
”And you?”
”Oh! I told him that was the true spirit of gambling; that I did not choose to owe so much to any man as I owed him, and that pay him I would. Well then, he said, that if I did not like to trouble my father about such a trifle, and yet was determined to pay him, it could be very easily managed. I asked how? He hummed and ha'd, and at last said that Smithson would advance me the money in a minute--that I should only have to sign a receipt for it, and need not pay him for years--not till I was of age, and not then if I did not like--that no one would be any the wiser--and he was going on with more in the same style, when I stopped him, by answering very abruptly, that such an arrangement was not to my taste, and that I was not yet reduced be borrowing money of my tailor.”
”Quite right, I am so glad you told him that,” interposed I; ”what _did_ he say then?”
”Something about not intending to offend me, and its being a thing done every day.”
”By him perhaps,” said I, recollecting the scene I had witnessed soon after my arrival.
”Why! what do you mean?” said Oaklands.
”I'll tell you when you have done,” replied I; ”but I want to know how all this ended.”