CHAPTER XXII
The two following days dragged themselves uneventfully away. Sylvia didher best to be kind to Bill Chester, but she felt ill at ease, and couldnot help showing it.
And then she missed the excitement and interest of the Casino. Bill hadnot suggested that they should go there, and she would not be the one todo so.
The long motoring expeditions they took each afternoon gave her nopleasure. Her heart was far away, in Brittany; in imagination she wasstanding by a grave surrounded by a shadowy group of men and women,mourning the old Marquise who had left Count Paul the means to becomeonce more a self-respecting and respected member of the world to which hebelonged by right of birth....
Had it not been for the Wachners, these two days of dual solitude withChester would have been dreary indeed, but Madame Wachner was theircompanion on more than one long excursion and wherever Madame Wachnerwent there reigned a kind of jollity and sense of cheer.
Sylvia wondered if the Comte de Virieu was indeed coming back as he hadsaid he would do. And yet she knew that were he to return now, at once,to his old ways, his family, those who loved him, would have the right tothink him incorrigible.
As is the way with a woman when she loves, Sylvia did not considerherself as a factor affecting his return to Lacville. Nay, she wasbitterly hurt that he had not written her a line since he had left.
And now had come the evening of the day when Count Paul had meant to comeback. But M. Polperro said no word of his return. Still, it was quitepossible that he would arrive late, and Sylvia did not wish to see himwhen in the company, not only of Bill Chester, but also of the Wachners.
Somehow or other, she had fallen into the habit each evening of askingthe Wachners to dinner. She did so to-day, but suggested dining at arestaurant.
"Yes, if this time, dear Sylvia, the host is L'Ami Fritz!" said MadameWachner decidedly. And after a slight demur Sylvia consented.
They dined at the hotel which is just opposite the Casino. After thepleasant meal was over, for it had been pleasant, and the cheerfulhostess had taken special pains over the menu, Sylvia weary at thethought of another long, dull evening in the drawing-room of the Villadu Lac, was secretly pleased to hear Madame Wachner exclaim coaxingly:
"And now, I do 'ope, Mr. Chester, that you will come over and spend thisevening at the Casino! I know you do not approve of the play that goes onthere, but still, believe me, it is the only thing to do at Lacville.Lacville would be a very dull place were it not for the Casino!"
Chester smiled.
"You think me far more particular than I am really," he said, lightly."I don't in the least mind going to the Casino." Why should he be aspoil-sport? "But I confess I cannot understand the kind of attractionplay has for some minds. For instance, I cannot understand theextraordinary fascination it seems to exercise over such an intelligentman as is that Comte de Virieu."
Madame Wachner looked at the speaker significantly.
"Ah!" she said. "The poor Count! 'E is what you call 'confirmed'--aconfirmed gambler. And 'e will now be able to play more than ever, forI 'ear a fortune 'as been left to 'im!"
Sylvia was startled. She wondered how the Wachners could have come toknow of the Count's legacy. She got up, with a nervous, impatientgesture.
How dull, how long, how intolerable had been the last two days spent byher in the company of Bill Chester, varied by that of talkative MadameWachner and the silent, dour Ami Fritz!
Her heart felt very sore. During that last hour she and Count Paul hadspent together in the garden, she had begged him to stay away--to spendthe rest of the summer with his sister. Supposing he took her at herword--supposing he never came back to Lacville at all? Sylvia tried totell herself that in that case she would be glad, and that she onlywanted her friend to do the best, the wisest thing for himself.
Such were her thoughts--her painful thoughts--as she walked across fromthe restaurant to the entrance of the Casino. Two whole days had gone bysince she had been there last, and oh! how long each hour of those dayshad seemed!
The two oddly-assorted couples passed through into the hall, and so up tothe closely-guarded doors of the Club.
The Baccarat Room was very full, fuller than usual, for several partiesof merry, rather boisterous young men had come out from Paris to spendthe evening.
She heard the words that were now so familiar, solemnly shouted out atthe further table: "_La Banque est aux encheres. Qui prend la Banque?_"
There was a pause, and there fell on Sylvia's ears the murmur of twovoices--the voice of the official who represented the Casino authorities,and the deep, low voice which had become so dear to her--which thrilledher heart each time she heard it.
Then Count Paul had come back? He had not followed her advice? Andinstead of being sorry, as she ought to have been, she was glad--glad!Not glad to know that he was here in the Casino--Sylvia was sorry forthat--but glad that he was once more close to her. Till this moment shehad scarcely realised how much his mere presence meant to her.
She could not see Paul de Virieu, for there was a crowd--a noisy,chattering crowd of over-dressed men, each with a gaudily-dressedfeminine companion--encompassing her on every side.
"_Vingt mille francs en Banque! Une fois, deux fois, messieurs?_" Apause--then the words repeated. "_Vingt mille francs en Banque!_"
Monsieur Wachner leant his tall, lean form over Sylvia. She looked upsurprised, L'Ami Fritz very seldom spoke to her, or for the matter ofthat to anyone.
"You must play to-night, Madame!" he said imperiously. "I have a feelingthat to-night you will bring us luck, as you did that first time youplayed."
She looked at him hesitatingly. His words made her remember the friend towhom she so seldom gave a thought nowadays.
"Do you remember how pleased poor Anna was that night?" she whispered.
Monsieur Wachner stared at her, and a look of fear, almost of terror,came over his drawn, hatchet face.
"Do not speak of her," he exclaimed harshly. "It might bring usill-luck!"
And then Chester broke in, "Sylvia, do play if you want to play!" hecried rather impatiently. It angered him to feel that she would not do inhis presence what she would most certainly have done were he not there.
And then Sylvia suddenly made up her mind that she would play. Count Paulwas holding the Bank. He was risking--how much was it?--twenty thousandfrancs. Eight hundred pounds of his legacy? That was madness, absolutemadness on his part! Well, she would gamble too! There came across her acurious feeling--one that gave her a certain painful joy--the feelingthat they two were one. While he was risking his money, she would try towin his money. Were he in luck to-night, she would be glad to know thatit would be her money he would win.
M. Wachner officiously made room for her at the table; and, as she satdown, the Comte de Virieu, looking round, saw who had come there, and heflushed and looked away, straight in front of him.
"_A Madame la main_," said Monsieur Wachner eagerly indicating Sylvia.And the croupier, with a smile, pushed the two fateful cards towards thefair young Englishwoman.
Sylvia took up the two cards. She glanced down at them. Yes, L'Ami Fritzhad been right. She was in luck to-night! In a low voice she uttered thewelcome words--in French, of course--the words "Nine" and "The King," asshe put the cards, face upwards, on the green cloth.
And then there came for her and for those who backed her, just as therehad done on that first fateful evening at the Casino, an extraordinaryrun of good fortune.
Again and again the cards were dealt to Sylvia, and again and again sheturned up a Nine, a Queen, a King, an Eight--. Once more the crowdexcitedly followed her luck, staring at her with grateful pleasure, withfascinated interest, as she brought them temporary wealth.
The more she won, the more she made other people win, the more miserableSylvia felt, and as she saw Count Paul's heap of notes and golddiminishing, she grew unutterably wretched. Eight hundred pounds? Whatan enormous lot of money to risk in an evening!
&nb
sp; Then there came a change. For a few turns of the game luck deserted her,and Sylvia breathed more freely. She glanced up into Count Paul'simpassive face. He looked worn and tired, as well he might be after hislong journey from Brittany.
Then once more magic fortune came back. It seemed as if only goodcards--variations on the fateful eights and nines--could be dealt her.
Suddenly she pushed her chair back and got up. Protesting murmurs rose onevery side.
"If Madame leaves, the luck will go with her!" she heard one or twopeople murmur discontentedly.
Chester was looking at her with amused, sarcastic, disapproving eyes.
"Well!" he exclaimed. "I don't wonder you enjoy gambling, Sylvia! Are youoften taken this way? How much of that poor fellow's money have you won?"
"Ninety pounds," she answered mechanically.
"Ninety pounds! And have you ever lost as much as that, may I ask, in anevening?" he was still speaking with a good deal of sarcasm in his voice.But still, "money talks," and even against his will Chester wasimpressed. Ninety pounds represents a very heavy bill of costs in acountry solicitor's practice.
Sylvia looked dully into his face.
"No," she said slowly. "No, the most I ever lost in one evening was tenpounds. I always left off playing when I had lost ten pounds. That is theone advantage the player has over the banker--he can stop playing when hehas lost a small sum."
"Oh! I see!" exclaimed Chester drily.
And then they became silent, for close by where they now stood, a littleapart from the table, an angry altercation was going on between Monsieurand Madame Wachner. It was the first time Sylvia had ever heard theworthy couple quarrelling in public the one with the other.
"I tell you I will _not_ go away!" L'Ami Fritz was saying between histeeth. "I feel that to-night I am in luck, in great luck! What I ask youto do, Sophie, is to go away yourself, and leave me alone. I have made athousand francs this evening, and at last I have an opportunity of tryingmy new system. I am determined to try it now, to-night! No--it is no useyour speaking to me, no use reminding me of any promise I made to you. IfI made such a promise, I mean to break it!"
Sylvia looked round, a good deal concerned. Madame Wachner's face wasred, and she was plainly very angry and put out. But when she saw thatshe and her husband had attracted the attention of their English friends,she made a great effort to regain her self-control and good humour.
"Very well," she said, "Very well, Fritz! Do not speak to me as if I werean ogress or a dragon. I am your wife; it is my duty to obey you. But Iwill not stay to see you lose the good money you have made with the helpof our kind friend, Madame Sylvia. Yes, I will go away and leave you, mypoor Fritz."
And suiting her action to her words, she put her arm familiarly throughSylvia's and together they walked out of the Baccarat Room, followed byChester.
When they were in the vestibule Madame Wachner turned to him with arueful smile:
"It is a pity," she said, "that Fritz did not come away with us! 'E 'asmade a thousand francs. It is a great deal of money for us to make--or tolose. I do not believe 'e will keep it, for, though you bring 'im luck,my dear"--she turned to Sylvia--"that Count always brings 'im bad luck.It 'as been proved to me again and again. Just before you arrived atLacville with poor Madame Wolsky, Fritz 'ad a 'eavy loss!--a very 'eavyloss, and all because the Comte de Virieu 'eld the Bank!"
"Perhaps the Count will not hold the Bank again to-night," said Sylviaslowly.
"Of course, 'e will do so!" the other spoke quite crossly, "Did I nottell you, Sylvia, that our day servant heard from M. Polperro's wife,whose sister is cook to the Duchesse d'Eglemont, that the Comte de Virieu'as been left an immense fortune by 'is godmother? Well, it is a fortunethat will soon melt"--she chuckled, as if the thought was very pleasantto her. "But I do not think that any of it is likely to melt into Fritz'spocket--though, to be sure, we 'ave been very lucky, all of us,to-night," she looked affectionately at Sylvia.
"Even you, Sir"--Madame Wachner turned to Chester with a broadsmile--"even you must be pleased that we came to the Casino to-night.What a pity it is you did not risk something! Even one pound! You might'ave made quite a nice lot of money to take back to England with you--"
"--Or to spend in Switzerland!" said Chester, laughing. "It is toSwitzerland I am going, Madame! I shall leave here the day afterto-morrow."
"And will you not come back again?" asked Madame Wachner inquisitively.
"I may come back again if Mrs. Bailey is still here; but I do not supposeshe will be, for I intend to spend at least a fortnight in Switzerland."
The three were now approaching the gates of the Villa du Lac.
"Well, Sylvia," cried Chester. "I suppose I must now say good-night? I donot envy you your ill-gotten gains!" He spoke lightly, but there was anundercurrent of reproach in his voice, or so Sylvia fancied.
"Good-night!" she said, and her voice was tremulous.
As she held out her hand the little fancy bag which held all herwinnings, the bundle of notes and loose pieces of gold, fell to theground.
Madame Wachner stooped down and picked it up. "How 'eavy it is!" sheexclaimed, enviously. "Good gracious, Sylvia! What a lot you must 'avemade to-night?"
"And the notes don't weigh much," said Sylvia. "It's only the gold thatis heavy!"
But she was not thinking of what she was saying. Her heart was full ofanguish. How could Paul de Virieu have been so mad as to risk such animmense sum, a tenth part of the fortune--for fortune it was--which hadjust been left to him?
Sylvia hated herself for having contributed to his losses. She knew thatit was absurd that she should feel this, for the same cards wouldcertainly have been dealt to whoever had happened to take them from the_croupier_. But still, superstition is part of the virus which fills thegambler's blood, and she had certainly won a considerable part of themoney Count Paul had lost to-night.
"May I see you back to your house?" asked Chester of Madame Wachner.
"Oh no, Monsieur, I must go back to the Casino and look after Fritz!'E is a child--quite a child as regards money." Madame Wachner sighedheavily. "No, no, you go 'ome to bed in the Pension Malfait."
"I shouldn't think of doing such a thing!" he said kindly. "I will comeback with you to the Casino, and together we will persuade MonsieurWachner to go home. He has had time to make or lose a good deal of moneyin the last few minutes."
"Yes, indeed he 'as--" again Madame Wachner sighed, and Chester's heartwent out to her. She was a really nice old woman--clever and intelligent,as well as cheerful and brave. It seemed a great pity that she should becursed with a gambler for a husband.
As they went back into the Casino they could hear the people round themtalking of the Comte de Virieu, and of the high play that had gone on atthe club that evening.
"No, he is winning now," they heard someone say. And Madame Wachnerlooked anxious. If Count Paul were winning, then her Fritz must belosing.
And alas! her fears were justified. When they got up into the BaccaratRoom they found L'Ami Fritz standing apart from the tables, his hands inhis pockets, staring abstractedly out of a dark window on to the lake.
"Well?" cried Madame Wachner sharply, "Well, Fritz?"
"I have had no luck!" he shook his head angrily. "It is all the fault ofthat cursed system! If I had only begun at the right, the propitiousmoment--as I should have done if you had not worried me and asked me togo away--I should probably have made a great deal of money," he looked ather disconsolately, deprecatingly.
Chester also looked at Madame Wachner. He admired the wife'sself-restraint. Her red face got a little redder. That was all.
"It cannot be helped," she said a trifle coldly, and in French. "I knewhow it would be, so I am not disappointed. Have you anything left? Haveyou got the five louis I gave you at the beginning of the evening?"
Monsieur Wachner shook his head gloomily.
"Well then, it is about time we went home." She turned and led the wayout.