Читать книгу The Poisoned Paradise - Robert William Service - Страница 27

Pines packed the vast valley, climbing raggedly to the pale grey peaks. Sometimes the mountains swooped down in gulch and butte of fantastic beauty. The pines were pale green in the sunshine, the soil strangely red. There was a curious dryness, a hard brilliance about it all.

As Hugh looked from the train window he had a feeling of home-coming. It was as if his ancestors had lived in this land; as if in no other could he thrive so well.

"I'm feeling heaps better," he thought. "Only let me get six months in these jolly old pine forests, living like a wood-cutter. The life of nature, that's what I need to make a new man of me. Ah! this is my country. I'm here now; and here I'll stay."

Looking at that sky so invincibly blue, that soil so subjugated by the sun, it seemed hard to believe that elsewhere there could be fog and cold and sleet. Here the sunshine was of so conquering a quality, it was difficult to think of sullen lands that could resist it.

Again Hugh felt that sense of familiarity: "I'm a son of the sun," he exulted; "a child of the sun-land."

So absorbed was he that a rasping voice at his side almost startled him.

"The verdure here is profligate, ain't it?"

The speaker was a rusty, creaky man smoking a rank cigar. He had a bony nose, and a ragged moustache. He wore a dusty bowler hat and a coat with a collar of hard-bitten musk-rat.

"The pines do seem to thrive," said Hugh.

"Pines is very tendatious," observed the shabby man. "Very saloobrious too."

"Indeed," said Hugh. "Are you a health-seeker?"

"No, sir. Not 'ealth,—wealth. I'm a man with a system, I am. The finest system on the Riviera."

"I wish mine was. It's rather dicky."

"Oh, I wasn't referrin' to my corporationus system. It's my system at roulette. Allow me...."

He handed Hugh a rather soiled card on which was engraved:

"Yes," supplemented the shabby man importantly. "You see before you one of the greatest livin' authorities on roulette. I've studied it now for twenty years. They all consult old Bob. Many a gentleman I've 'elped to fortune. 'Avin' no capital myself, I'm obliged to let others 'ave the benefit of my experience."

"And your system?" queried Hugh politely.

"Well, sir, it's based on the fact that the old croupiers 'ave a 'abit of throwin' the ball in a hotomatic way, so that they 'ave spells when they throw into the same section of the wheel. Of course, it calls for judgment and observation."

"Luck, too, I should imagine."

"Not so much. Luck is a thing we scientific roulette players try not to recognize. We aim to beat chance by calculation."

"Is it really true," said Hugh, "that one can live at the cost of the Casino?"

"Certainly. Thousands are doin' it this very day. Why, I can go in any time and make a couple of louis."

"I wish I could."

"So you can, sir, with a little experience. You're goin' to Monte?"

"No, Menton."

"Ah, that's a pity. Mentony's too full of English, too deadly dull. Monte's a sporty little gem, the most beautiful spot on earth—and the wickedest."

"That sounds interesting."

"Interestin' ... I should say so. There's no square mile on God's globe so packed with drama. There's no theatre a patch on that Casino. You'd better get off at Monte, sir, and let me put you on to my system. Sixteen hundred francs capital is all you need, and I guarantees you a daily profit of from twenty to eighty per cent."

Hugh thought of the poor two thousand francs that was to last him for six months.

"I'll think over it. Meantime I've arranged to go to Menton."

"Well, we'll surely see you at the tables before long. By the way, sir, you see that gentleman with the white spats? He's a English gentleman, a Mister Jarvie Tope. Very nice man, but he's got a system that's no good. Don't let him fool you with it."

"Thank you," said Hugh, "I'll be careful."

The pine-lands had given way to vinelands, the peaks to plains. The vines pushed jagged forks through the red soil; the olive groves wimpled in the wind. The goats and donkeys scarcely raised their heads to gaze at the insolent train. Hugh was in such a deep reverie that he did not notice the approach of Mr. Jarvie Tope.

Mr. Tope was a little rosy man, round and bland with waxed grey moustaches. He was well groomed, and seemed on the most excellent terms with life.

"Ha, ha!" he squeaked as he drew near to Hugh, "Old Bob Bender's been warning you against me, I could see it in his eye, the rascal. Told you, no doubt, I'd try to put you on to my system. Couldn't, if I would. I've come over to play for a syndicate."

"Indeed. What sort of a system is yours?"

"Well, it's based on the idea that the same phenomenon cannot occur on the same spot at the same moment to-day that it occurred at the same spot on the same day last year. I have my phenomena carefully recorded and when the times comes I bet on them. The probabilities are millions in my favour."

"There seems to be a lot of systems."

"No end of 'em. We all think ours is the best and the other fellows' no good. With a bit of luck all are good, but you need a lot of capital to defend yourself, and you must be content with a very moderate return. And after all none are infallible. That's what we're all seeking, a formula that's infallible. So far no one has found it, but still we seek and hope.... You see that old fellow at the end of the corridor?"

"The venerable old chap with the white beard?"

"Yes, I call him Walt Whitman. Well, he's a man over seventy, going to Monte Carlo for the first time, a professor from the Sorbonne, Durand by name. They say he has worked on his system for twenty years, and is bringing the savings of a lifetime to test it. Ah! we'll see what we shall see. Fine looking old chap, isn't he?"

"Very striking,—like a Hebrew prophet."

"He has books and books of figures and calculations. What his system is no one knows. I've seen a heap of them come like conquerors and go away broken on the wheel."

"You know the place well?"

"I should think so. Never missed a season for twenty years. Coming here has got to be a habit with me. In summer I have a cottage in Kent where I grow roses; in winter an apartment in Monte where I play roulette. Oh, I'm a great boy, you don't know me."

Mr. Tope laughed in jolly appreciation of himself.

"Well, I suppose I'm crazy like the rest of 'em. We're all crazy there. The Casino is a great lunatic asylum. We wander about as if we were free, but we're not. Inevitably our feet carry us back. Don't let it get you, young man. Avoid Monte as you would the plague.... By the way there's the first call for lunch. I'm going to have a wash first. See you later."