CHAPTER VII.
_Dangerous Friends_
HE ROSE late, and as he was lounging over his breakfast, entered LordBagshot and the Baron. Already the young Duke began to experience oneof the gamester's curses, the intrusive society of those of whom youare ashamed. Eight-and-forty hours ago, Lord Bagshot would no more havedared to call on the Duke of St. James than to call at the Pavilion; andnow, with that reckless want of tact which marks the innately vulgar,he seemed to triumph in their unhallowed intimacy, and lounging intohis Grace's apartment with that half-shuffling, hair-swaggering airindicative of the 'cove,' hat cocked, and thumbs in his great-coatpockets, cast his complacent eye around, and praised his Grace's'rooms.' Lord Bagshot, who for the occasional notice of the Duke of St.James had been so long a ready and patient butt, now appeared to assumea higher character, and addressed his friend in a tone and manner whichwere authorised by the equality of their rank and the sympathy of theirtastes. If this change had taken place in the conduct of the Viscount,it was not a singular one. The Duke also, to his surprise, found himselfaddressing his former butt in a very different style from that which hehad assumed in the ballroom of Doncaster. In vain he tried to rally, invain he tried to snub. It was indeed in vain. He no longer possessed anyright to express his contempt of his companion. That contempt, indeed,he still felt. He despised Lord Bagshot still, but he also despisedhimself.
The soft and silky Baron was a different sort of personage; butthere was something sinister in all his elaborate courtesy and highlyartificial manner, which did not touch the feelings of the Duke, whosecourtesy was but the expression of his noble feelings, and whose gracewas only the impulse of his rich and costly blood. Baron de Berghem wastoo attentive, and too deferential. He smiled and bowed too much.He made no allusion to the last night's scene, nor did his tutoredcompanion, but spoke of different and lighter subjects, in a mannerwhich at once proved his experience of society, the liveliness of histalents, and the cultivation of his taste. He told many stories, allshort and poignant, and always about princes and princesses. Whateverwas broached, he always had his _apropos_ of Vienna, and altogetherseemed an experienced, mild, tolerant man of the world, not bigoted toany particular opinions upon any subject, but of a truly liberal andphilosophic mind.
When they had sat chatting for half-an-hour, the Baron developed theobject of his visit, which was to endeavour to obtain the pleasure ofhis Grace's company at dinner, to taste some wild boar and try sometokay. The Duke, who longed again for action, accepted the invitation;and then they parted.
Our hero was quite surprised at the feverish anxiety with which heawaited the hour of union. He thought that seven o'clock would nevercome. He had no appetite at breakfast, and after that he rode, butluncheon was a blank. In the midst of the operation, he found himselfin a brown study, calculating chances. All day long his imagination hadbeen playing hazard, or _rouge et noir_. Once he thought that he haddiscovered an infallible way of winning at the latter. On the long run,he was convinced it must answer, and he panted to prove it.
Seven o'clock at last arrived, and he departed to Brunswick Terrace.There was a brilliant party to meet him: the same set as last night,but select. He was faint, and did justice to the _cuisine_ of his host,which was indeed remarkable. When we are drinking a man's good wine, itis difficult to dislike him. Prejudice decreases with every draught.His Grace began to think the Baron as good-hearted as agreeable. He wasgrateful for the continued attentions of old Castlefort, who, he nowfound out, had been very well acquainted with his father, and once evenmade a trip to Spa with him. Lord Dice he could not manage to endure,though that worthy was, for him, remarkably courteous, and grinned withhis parchment face, like a good-humoured ghoul. Temple Grace and theDuke became almost intimate. There was an amiable candour in thatgentleman's address, a softness in his tones, and an unstudied andextremely interesting delicacy in his manner, which in this society wasremarkable. Tom Cogit never presumed to come near the young Duke, butpaid him constant attention. He sat at the bottom of the table, andwas ever sending a servant with some choice wine, or recommending him,through some third person, some choice dish. It is pleasant to be 'mademuch of,' as Shakspeare says, even by scoundrels. To be king of yourcompany is a poor ambition, yet homage is homage, and smoke is smoke,whether it come out of the chimney of a palace or of a workhouse.
The banquet was not hurried. Though all wished it finished, no one likedto appear urgent. It was over at last, and they walked up-stairs, wherethe tables were arranged for all parties, and all play. Tom Cogit wentup a few minutes before them, like the lady of the mansion, to reviewthe lights, and arrange the cards. Feminine Tom Cogit!
The events of to-night were much the same as of the preceding one. TheDuke was a loser, but his losses were not considerable. He retired aboutthe same hour, with a head not so hot, or heavy: and he never lookedat the moon, or thought of May Dacre. The only wish that reigned in hissoul was a longing for another opportunity, and he had agreed to dinewith the Baron, before he left Brunswick Terrace.
Thus passed a week, one night the Duke of St. James redeeming himself,another falling back to his old position, now pushing on to Madrid, nowre-crossing the Tagus. On the whole, he had lost four or five thousandpounds, a mere trifle to what, as he had heard, had been lost and gainedby many of his companions during only the present season. On the whole,he was one of the most moderate of these speculators, generally playedat the large table, and never joined any of those private coteries, someof which he had observed, and of some of which he had heard. Yet thiswas from no prudential resolve or temperate resolution. The young Dukewas heartily tired of the slight results of all his anxiety, hopes, andplans, and ardently wished for some opportunity of coming to closer andmore decided action. The Baron also had resolved that an end shouldbe put to this skirmishing; but he was a calm head, and never hurriedanything.
'I hope your Grace has been lucky to-night!' said the Baron one evening,strolling up to the Duke: 'as for myself, really, if Dice goes onplaying, I shall give up banking. That fellow must have a talisman. Ithink he has broken more banks than any man living. The best thing hedid of that kind was the roulette story at Paris. You have heard ofthat?'
'Was that Lord Dice?'
'Oh yes! he does everything. He must have cleared his hundred thousandlast year. I have suffered a good deal since I have been in England.Castlefort has pulled in a great deal of my money. I wonder to whom hewill leave his property?'
'You think him rich?'
'Oh! he will cut up large!' said the Baron, elevating his eyebrows. 'Apleasant man too! I do not know any man that I would sooner play withthan Castlefort; no one who loses his money with better temper.'
'Or wins it,' said his Grace.
'That we all do,' said the Baron, faintly laughing. 'Your Grace haslost, and you do not seem particularly dull. You will have your revenge.Those who lose at first are always the children of fortune. I alwaysdread a man who loses at first. All I beg is, that you will not break mybank.'
'Why! you see I am not playing now.' 'I am not surprised. There is toomuch heat and noise here,' said he. 'We will have a quiet dinner someday, and play at our ease. Come to-morrow, and I will ask Castlefortand Dice. I should uncommonly like, _entre nous_, to win some of theirmoney. I will take care that nobody shall be here whom you would notlike to meet. By-the-bye, whom were you riding with this morning? Finewoman!'