Читать книгу Andrew Tresholm - Adentures of a Reluctant Gambler - E. Phillips Oppenheim - Страница 7

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Gustave Sordel paid a special visit to the hotel just before dinner-time that evening. He encountered Monsieur Robert in the hall.

"But what has arrived!" he exclaimed. "All the afternoon my chefs have been on the qui vive. I have reinforced every table to the extent of a hundred thousand francs. I arranged for a high table at chemin de fer, and, if Monsieur Tresholm had wished to take a bank at baccarat tonight, it could have been managed. Yet behold the strange thing which has arrived. He has not as yet taken out his ticket—"

"In the Sporting Hub, perhaps?" Monsieur Robert suggested. "Three times I have sent there. No one of his name has applied for a card."

"This affair gives one to think," Monsieur Robert admitted, "At present he dines with a young Englishman and his sister—a couple bien distingué, but poor. They left here last week for a cheaper hotel. Of what interest can they be to him?"

Sordel shrugged his shoulders. "After all." he pointed out "even a professional gambler must have his moments. He waits far the night without a doubt."

Meanwhile, in the restaurant, Tresholm, to all appearance, was very much enjoying his dinner. Bartlett was excited and talkative. Norah, on the other hand, was very quiet. She ate and drank little, and her manner, especially towards her host, was reserved, not to say cold.

"Your sister, Bartlett" the latter confided, "is displeased with me. I wonder whether I might ask why."

"Because you have taken his side against me," she said, looking at him with a smoldering anger in her eyes. "You are encouraging him to gamble with that last five thousand pounds. I hoped so much that you would have been on my side, that you would have told him to keep that money, for both our sakes, and not to enter the Casino again."

"And if I had told him that" Tresholm asked calmly, "would it have made any difference?"

She reflected for a moment. "Perhaps it would not," she admitted. "He is very self-willed. He would probably have had his own way, and yet, somehow or other, I am sorry that it should have been you who encouraged this."

"I don't think that you are quite just to blame me," he complained. "You must realize that nothing I could have said would have made the slightest difference. You know that you yourself have used all your persuasions. Your brother would have lost every penny in the Casino, if I had not offered him a saner chance of gambling with me."

"I can't explain," she sighed. "I am just disappointed."

They left the table, crossed the lounge and entered the elevator. In the corridor Bartlett stopped to speak to an acquaintance.

The girl suddenly turned to her companion.

"Mr. Tresholm," she begged, "don't do this. Let him lose his money in the Casino, if he must I don't like the idea of you two sitting down to play against one another. I don't like it There's something horrible about it"

"Don't you think," he asked, "that, if your brother must throw his money away, I might as well have it as anybody else?"

"Do you mean—do you really mean that you are what you said?"

"I am afraid there is a certain amount of truth in what I told you," he acknowledged. "If you go to the Chef de Sûreté here in Monaco, he will show you my papers."

"Then I think it is all very terrible," she pronounced sadly. "I am very sorry that we ever came to Monte Carlo."

"Now for the terms," Tresholm said, as he and Bartlett seated themselves at a small table. "First of all, here are two tickets for the Blue Train tomorrow. It is understood that, whether you win my money or I win yours, you make use of them."

"Right-o!" the young man agreed, pocketing the yellow slips.

"I require more than a casual acceptance of that proposal," Tresholm persisted. "I require your word of honor."

"That's all right" the other acquiesced. "I promise upon my honor."

"And I am your witness," Norah intervened gravely.

"Furthermore, whether you win or lose," Tresholm continued, "you must promise not to return within twelve months."

"Agreed. Come along. Let's start"

"The game I leave entirely to you," Tresholm announced. "There are, as you see, four new packs of cards. I will cut you highest or lowest to win, whichever you like, or I will play you two-handed poker, or piquet, or any other game you prefer."

There was a sudden gleam in the young man's eyes. "Piquet?" he repeated. "You play piquet?"

"Rather well," Tresholm warned him. "I should advise you to choose something else."

Bartlett laughed confidently. "Piquet's good enough for me," he declared. "I used to play it with my old governor every night Let's get on with it," he added, moistening his dry lips. "A hundred pounds a time, eh?"

"Whatever you like," was the reply.

It was midnight before the matter was concluded. Bartlett, white and distraught, with a dangerous, almost lunatic, gleam in his eyes, was pacing the room excitedly. Norah, unexpectedly calm, was still seated in the chair from which she had watched the gambling with changeless expression. Tresholm remained at the table. Before him lay a check for five thousand pounds which the young man had just signed.

"Ready, Jack?" she asked at last.

"I suppose so," he growled. "Come along."

Tresholm rose. "You've had a fair deal with level odds for your money, haven't you?" he asked his late opponent.

"I'm not complaining," was, the broken reply. "I suppose it's no use asking you to lend me a hundred just to have one shot at the Sporting Club?"

"Not the least use in the world," Tresholm refused. "The hundred pounds would go just where the rest of your money has gone. There are some of us who are made to win at games of chance; others to lose. You are one of the predestined losers. If you take my advice, you will never again, so long as you live, indulge in any game of chance for money." He opened the door. The girl passed out slim and dignified, without a glance in his direction.

"Good night Miss Bartlett" he ventured.

"Good night, Mr. Tresholm," she replied. "I congratulate you upon your profitable evening."

With that they both disappeared.

Tresholm returned to his place at the table, playing idly with the cards.