Part 40 (1/2)
”Rouge-et-noir,” suggested the Chevalier, in a careless tone, as if he had no taste for the amus.e.m.e.nt.
”There is not enough, is there?” asked St. George.
”Oh! two are enough, you know; one deals, much more four.”
”Well, I don't care; rouge-et-noir then, let us have rouge-et-noir. Von Konigstein, what say you to rouge-et-noir? De Boeffleurs says we can play it here very well. Come, Grey.”
”Oh! rouge-et-noir, rouge-et-noir,” said the Baron; ”have not you both had rouge-et-noir enough? Am I not to be allowed one holiday? Well, anything to please you; so rouge-et-noir, if it must be so.”
”If all wish it, I have no objection,” said Vivian.
”Well, then, let us sit down; Ernstorff has, I dare say, another pack of cards, and St. George will be dealer; I know he likes that ceremony.”
”No, no; I appoint the Chevalier.”
”Very well,” said De Boeffleurs, ”the plan will be for two to bank against the table; the table to play on the same colour by joint agreement. You can join me, Von Konigstein, and pay or receive with me, from Mr. St. George and Grey.”
”I will bank with you, if you like, Chevalier,” said Vivian.
”Oh! certainly; that is if you like. But perhaps the Baron is more used to banking; you perhaps don't understand it.”
”Perfectly; it appears to me to be very simple.”
”No, don't you bank, Grey,” said St. George. ”I want you to play with me against the Chevalier and the Baron; I like your luck.”
”Luck is very capricious, remember.”
”Oh, no, I like your luck; don't bank.”
”Be it so.”
Playing commenced. An hour elapsed, and the situation of none of the parties was materially different from what it had been when they began the game. Vivian proposed leaving off; but Mr. St. George avowed that he felt very fortunate, and that he had a presentiment that he should win.
Another hour elapsed, and he had lost considerably. Eleven o'clock: Vivian's luck had also deserted him. Mr. St. George was losing desperately. Midnight: Vivian had lost back half his gains on the season. St. George still more desperate, all his coolness had deserted him. He had persisted obstinately against a run on the red; then floundered and got entangled in a seesaw, which alone cost him a thousand.
Ernstorff now brought in refreshments; and for a moment they ceased playing. The Baron opened a bottle of champagne; and St. George and the Chevalier were stretching their legs and composing their minds in very different ways, the first in walking rapidly up and down the room, and the other by lying very quietly at his full length on the sofa; Vivian was employed in building houses with the cards.
”Grey,” said the Chevalier de Boeffleurs, ”I cannot imagine why you do not for a moment try to forget the cards: that is the only way to win.
Never sit musing over the table.”
But Grey was not to be persuaded to give up building his paG.o.da: which, now many stories high, like a more celebrated but scarcely more substantial structure, fell with a crash. Vivian collected the scattered cards into two divisions.
”Now!” said the Baron, seating himself, ”for St. George's revenge.”
The Chevalier and the greatest sufferer took their places.
”Is Ernstorff coming in again, Baron?” asked Vivian.
”No! I think not.”
”Let us be sure; it is disagreeable to be disturbed at this time of night.”
”Lock the door, then,” said St. George.