Page 16 of The Gambler

red--an occurrence never before known at roulette-- so that men

  spoke of it with astonishment. Naturally enough, many deserted

  the red after a dozen rounds, and practically no one could now

  be found to stake upon it. Yet upon the black also--the

  antithesis of the red--no experienced gambler would stake

  anything, for the reason that every practised player knows the

  meaning of "capricious fortune." That is to say, after the

  sixteenth (or so) success of the red, one would think that the

  seventeenth coup would inevitably fall upon the black; wherefore,

  novices would be apt to back the latter in the seventeenth

  round, and even to double or treble their stakes upon it--only,

  in the end, to lose.

  Yet some whim or other led me, on remarking that the red had

  come up consecutively for seven times, to attach myself to that

  colour. Probably this was mostly due to self-conceit, for I

  wanted to astonish the bystanders with the riskiness of my play.

  Also, I remember that--oh, strange sensation!--I suddenly, and

  without any challenge from my own presumption, became obsessed

  with a DESIRE to take risks. If the spirit has passed through a

  great many sensations, possibly it can no longer be sated with

  them, but grows more excited, and demands more sensations, and

  stronger and stronger ones, until at length it falls exhausted.

  Certainly, if the rules of the game had permitted even of my

  staking fifty thousand florins at a time, I should have staked

  them. All of a sudden I heard exclamations arising that the

  whole thing was a marvel, since the red was turning up for the

  fourteenth time!

  "Monsieur a gagne cent mille florins," a voice exclaimed beside

  me.

  I awoke to my senses. What? I had won a hundred thousand

  florins? If so, what more did I need to win? I grasped the

  banknotes, stuffed them into my pockets, raked in the gold

  without counting it, and started to leave the Casino. As I

  passed through the salons people smiled to see my

  bulging pockets and unsteady gait, for the weight which I was

  carrying must have amounted to half a pood! Several hands I saw

  stretched out in my direction, and as I passed I filled them

  with all the money that I could grasp in my own. At length two

  Jews stopped me near the exit.

  "You are a bold young fellow," one said, "but mind you depart

  early tomorrow--as early as you can--for if you do not you will

  lose everything that you have won."

  But I did not heed them. The Avenue was so dark that it was

  barely possible to distinguish one's hand before one's face,

  while the distance to the hotel was half a verst or so; but I

  feared neither pickpockets nor highwaymen. Indeed, never since

  my boyhood have I done that. Also, I cannot remember what I

  thought about on the way. I only felt a sort of fearful pleasure

  --the pleasure of success, of conquest, of power (how can I best

  express it?). Likewise, before me there flitted the image of

  Polina; and I kept remembering, and reminding myself, that it

  was to HER I was going, that it was in HER presence I should

  soon be standing, that it was SHE to whom I should soon be able

  to relate and show everything. Scarcely once did I recall what

  she had lately said to me, or the reason why I had left her, or

  all those varied sensations which I had been experiencing a bare

  hour and a half ago. No, those sensations seemed to be things of

  the past, to be things which had righted themselves and grown

  old, to be things concerning which we needed to trouble

  ourselves no longer, since, for us, life was about to begin

  anew. Yet I had just reached the end of the Avenue when there

  DID come upon me a fear of being robbed or murdered. With each

  step the fear increased until, in my terror, I almost started to

  run. Suddenly, as I issued from the Avenue, there burst upon me

  the lights of the hotel, sparkling with a myriad lamps! Yes,

  thanks be to God, I had reached home!

  Running up to my room, I flung open the door of it. Polina was

  still on the sofa, with a lighted candle in front of her, and

  her hands clasped. As I entered she stared at me in astonishment

  (for, at the moment, I must have presented a strange spectacle).

  All I did, however, was to halt before her, and fling upon the

  table my burden of wealth.

  XV

  I remember, too, how, without moving from her place, or changing

  her attitude, she gazed into my face.

  "I have won two hundred thousand francs!" cried I as I pulled

  out my last sheaf of bank-notes. The pile of paper currency

  occupied the whole table. I could not withdraw my eyes from it.

  Consequently, for a moment or two Polina escaped my mind. Then I

  set myself to arrange the pile in order, and to sort the notes,

  and to mass the gold in a separate heap. That done, I left

  everything where it lay, and proceeded to pace the room with

  rapid strides as I lost myself in thought. Then I darted to the

  table once more, and began to recount the money; until all of a

  sudden, as though I had remembered something, I rushed to the

  door, and closed and double-locked it. Finally I came to a

  meditative halt before my little trunk.

  "Shall I put the money there until tomorrow?" I asked,

  turning sharply round to Polina as the recollection of her

  returned to me.

  She was still in her old place--still making not a sound. Yet her

  eyes had followed every one of my movements. Somehow in her face

  there was a strange expression--an expression which I did not

  like. I think that I shall not be wrong if I say that it

  indicated sheer hatred.

  Impulsively I approached her.

  "Polina," I said, "here are twenty-five thousand florins--fifty

  thousand francs, or more. Take them, and tomorrow throw them

  in De Griers' face."

  She returned no answer.

  "Or, if you should prefer," I continued, "let me take

  them to him myself tomorrow--yes, early tomorrow morning. Shall

  I?"

  Then all at once she burst out laughing, and laughed for a long

  while. With astonishment and a feeling of offence I gazed at

  her. Her laughter was too like the derisive merriment which she

  had so often indulged in of late--merriment which had broken

  forth always at the time of my most passionate explanations. At

  length she ceased, and frowned at me from under her eyebrows.

  "I am NOT going to take your money," she said contemptuously.

  "Why not?" I cried. "Why not, Polina?"

  "Because I am not in the habit of receiving money for nothing."

  "But I am offering it to you as a FRIEND in the same way I

  would offer you my very life."

  Upon this she threw me a long, questioning glance, as though she

  were seeking to probe me to the depths.

  "You are giving too much for me," she remarked with a smile.

  "The beloved of De Griers is not worth fifty thousand francs."

  "Oh Polina, how can you speak so?" I exclaimed reproachfully.

  "Am I De Griers?"

  "You?" she crie
d with her eyes suddenly flashing. "Why, I

  HATE you! Yes, yes, I HATE you! I love you no more than I do De

  Griers."

  Then she buried her face in her hands, and relapsed into

  hysterics. I darted to her side. Somehow I had an intuition of

  something having happened to her which had nothing to do with

  myself. She was like a person temporarily insane.

  "Buy me, would you, would you? Would you buy me for fifty

  thousand francs as De Griers did?" she gasped between her

  convulsive sobs.

  I clasped her in my arms, kissed her hands and feet, and fell

  upon my knees before her.

  Presently the hysterical fit passed away, and, laying her hands

  upon my shoulders, she gazed for a while into my face, as though

  trying to read it--something I said to her, but it was clear

  that she did not hear it. Her face looked so dark and despondent

  that I began to fear for her reason. At length she drew me towards

  herself--a trustful smile playing over her features; and then,

  as suddenly, she pushed me away again as she eyed me dimly.

  Finally she threw herself upon me in an embrace.

  "You love me?" she said. "DO you?--you who were willing even to

  quarrel with the Baron at my bidding?"

  Then she laughed--laughed as though something dear, but

  laughable, had recurred to her memory. Yes, she laughed and wept

  at the same time. What was I to do? I was like a man in a fever.

  I remember that she began to say something to me--though WHAT I do

  not know, since she spoke with a feverish lisp, as though she

  were trying to tell me something very quickly. At intervals,

  too, she would break off into the smile which I was beginning to

  dread. "No, no!" she kept repeating. "YOU are my dear one;

  YOU are the man I trust." Again she laid her hands upon my

  shoulders, and again she gazed at me as she reiterated: "You love

  me, you love me? Will you ALWAYS love me?" I could not take my

  eyes off her. Never before had I seen her in this mood of

  humility and affection. True, the mood was the outcome of

  hysteria; but--! All of a sudden she noticed my ardent gaze, and

  smiled slightly. The next moment, for no apparent reason, she

  began to talk of Astley.

  She continued talking and talking about him, but I could not

  make out all she said--more particularly when she was

  endeavouring to tell me of something or other which had happened

  recently. On the whole, she appeared to be laughing at Astley,

  for she kept repeating that he was waiting for her, and did I

  know whether, even at that moment, he was not standing beneath

  the window? "Yes, yes, he is there," she said. "Open the

  window, and see if he is not." She pushed me in that direction;

  yet, no sooner did I make a movement to obey her behest than she

  burst into laughter, and I remained beside her, and she

  embraced me.

  "Shall we go away tomorrow?" presently she asked, as though

  some disturbing thought had recurred to her recollection. "How

  would it be if we were to try and overtake Grandmamma? I think

  we should do so at Berlin. And what think you she would have to

  say to us when we caught her up, and her eyes first lit upon us?

  What, too, about Mr. Astley? HE would not leap from the

  Shlangenberg for my sake! No! Of that I am very sure!"--and she

  laughed. "Do you know where he is going next year? He says he

  intends to go to the North Pole for scientific investigations,

  and has invited me to go with him! Ha, ha, ha! He also says that

  we Russians know nothing, can do nothing, without European help.

  But he is a good fellow all the same. For instance, he does not

  blame the General in the matter, but declares that Mlle.

  Blanche--that love--But no; I do not know, I do not know." She

  stopped suddenly, as though she had said her say, and was

  feeling bewildered. "What poor creatures these people are. How

  sorry I am for them, and for Grandmamma! But when are you going

  to kill De Griers? Surely you do not intend actually to murder

  him? You fool! Do you suppose that I should ALLOW you to fight

  De Griers? Nor shall you kill the Baron." Here she burst out

  laughing. "How absurd you looked when you were talking to the

  Burmergelms! I was watching you all the time--watching you from

  where I was sitting. And how unwilling you were to go when I

  sent you! Oh, how I laughed and laughed!"

  Then she kissed and embraced me again; again she pressed her

  face to mine with tender passion. Yet I neither saw nor heard

  her, for my head was in a whirl. . . .

  It must have been about seven o'clock in the morning when I

  awoke. Daylight had come, and Polina was sitting by my side--a

  strange expression on her face, as though she had seen a vision

  and was unable to collect her thoughts. She too had just

  awoken, and was now staring at the money on the table. My head

  ached; it felt heavy. I attempted to take Polina's hand, but she

  pushed me from her, and leapt from the sofa. The dawn was full

  of mist, for rain had fallen, yet she moved to the window,

  opened it, and, leaning her elbows upon the window-sill, thrust

  out her head and shoulders to take the air. In this position did

  she remain for several minutes, without ever looking round at

  me, or listening to what I was saying. Into my head there came

  the uneasy thought: What is to happen now? How is it all to end?

  Suddenly Polina rose from the window, approached the table, and,

  looking at me with an expression of infinite aversion, said with

  lips which quivered with anger:

  "Well? Are you going to hand me over my fifty thousand francs?"

  "Polina, you say that AGAIN, AGAIN?" I exclaimed.

  "You have changed your mind, then? Ha, ha, ha! You are sorry

  you ever promised them?"

  On the table where, the previous night, I had counted the money

  there still was lying the packet of twenty five thousand

  florins. I handed it to her.

  "The francs are mine, then, are they? They are mine?" she

  inquired viciously as she balanced the money in her hands.

  "Yes; they have ALWAYS been yours," I said.

  "Then TAKE your fifty thousand francs!" and she hurled them

  full in my face. The packet burst as she did so, and the floor

  became strewed with bank-notes. The instant that the deed was

  done she rushed from the room.

  At that moment she cannot have been in her right mind; yet, what

  was the cause of her temporary aberration I cannot say. For a

  month past she had been unwell. Yet what had brought about this

  PRESENT condition of mind,above all things, this outburst? Had

  it come of wounded pride? Had it come of despair over her

  decision to come to me? Had it come of the fact that, presuming

  too much on my good fortune, I had seemed to be intending to

  desert her (even as De Griers had done) when once I had given

  her the fifty thousand francs? But, on my honour, I had never

  cherished any such intention. What was at fault, I think, was

  her own pride, which kept urging her not to trust me, but,

  rather, t
o insult me--even though she had not realised the fact.

  In her eyes I corresponded to De Griers, and therefore had been

  condemned for a fault not wholly my own. Her mood of late had

  been a sort of delirium, a sort of light-headedness--that I knew

  full well; yet, never had I sufficiently taken it into consideration.

  Perhaps she would not pardon me now? Ah, but this was THE PRESENT.

  What about the future? Her delirium and sickness were not likely to

  make her forget what she had done in bringing me De Griers'

  letter. No, she must have known what she was doing when she

  brought it.

  Somehow I contrived to stuff the pile of notes and gold under

  the bed, to cover them over, and then to leave the room some ten

  minutes after Polina. I felt sure that she had returned to her

  own room; wherefore, I intended quietly to follow her, and to ask

  the nursemaid aid who opened the door how her mistress was.

  Judge, therefore, of my surprise when, meeting the domestic on

  the stairs, she informed me that Polina had not yet returned,

  and that she (the domestic) was at that moment on her way to my

  room in quest of her!

  "Mlle. left me but ten minutes ago," I said.

  "What can have become of her?" The nursemaid looked at me

  reproachfully.

  Already sundry rumours were flying about the hotel. Both in the

  office of the commissionaire and in that of the landlord it was

  whispered that, at seven o'clock that morning, the Fraulein had

  left the hotel, and set off, despite the rain, in the direction

  of the Hotel d'Angleterre. From words and hints let fall I could

  see that the fact of Polina having spent the night in my room

  was now public property. Also, sundry rumours were circulating

  concerning the General's family affairs. It was known that last

  night he had gone out of his mind, and paraded the hotel in

  tears; also, that the old lady who had arrived was his mother,

  and that she had come from Russia on purpose to forbid her son's

  marriage with Mlle. de Cominges, as well as to cut him out of

  her will if he should disobey her; also that, because he had

  disobeyed her, she had squandered all her money at roulette, in

  order to have nothing more to leave to him. "Oh, these

  Russians!" exclaimed the landlord, with an angry toss of the

  head, while the bystanders laughed and the clerk betook himself

  to his accounts. Also, every one had learnt about my winnings;

  Karl, the corridor lacquey, was the first to congratulate me.

  But with these folk I had nothing to do. My business was to set

  off at full speed to the Hotel d'Angleterre.

  As yet it was early for Mr. Astley to receive visitors; but, as

  soon as he learnt that it was I who had arrived, he came out

  into the corridor to meet me, and stood looking at me in silence

  with his steel-grey eyes as he waited to hear what I had to say.

  I inquired after Polina.

  "She is ill," he replied, still looking at me with his direct,

  unwavering glance.

  "And she is in your rooms."

  "Yes, she is in my rooms."

  "Then you are minded to keep her there?"

  "Yes, I am minded to keep her there."

  "But, Mr. Astley, that will raise a scandal. It ought not to be

  allowed. Besides, she is very ill. Perhaps you had not remarked

  that?"

  "Yes, I have. It was I who told you about it. Had she not been

  ill, she would not have gone and spent the night with you."

  "Then you know all about it?"

  "Yes; for last night she was to have accompanied me to the

  house of a relative of mine. Unfortunately, being ill, she made

  a mistake, and went to your rooms instead."

  "Indeed? Then I wish you joy, Mr. Astley. Apropos, you have

  reminded me of something. Were you beneath my window last night?

  Every moment Mlle. Polina kept telling me to open the window and

  see if you were there; after which she always smiled."

  "Indeed? No, I was not there; but I was waiting in the

  corridor, and walking about the hotel."

  "She ought to see a doctor, you know, Mr. Astley."