The Flashman Papers: The Complete 12-Book Collection. George Fraser MacDonald
with his nigger airs, who had proclaimed his interest in my wife and proposed publicly to take her jaunting while I was left cuckolded at home, had been properly and politely warned off, and was now back on the same tack, but trying to pass it off as a jolly, light-hearted game. My skin burned with fury – had he cooked this up with Elspeth? – but one glance told me she was as astonished as I was. Others were smiling, though, and I saw two ladies whispering behind their parasols; Mrs Lade was watching with amusement.
“Well, well, Don,” says I, deliberately easy. “You don’t give up in a hurry, do you?”
“Oh, come, Harry,” cries he. “What hope have I? It’s just nonsense, for you’re sure to win. Doesn’t he always win, Mrs Lade?” And he looked at her, smiling, and then at me, and at Elspeth, without a flicker of expression – by G-d, had he recognized my heaving stern in the drawing-room, after all, and was he daring to say: “Accept my wager, give me this chance, or I’ll blow the gaff"? I didn’t know – but it made no odds, for I realized I had to take him on, for my credit’s sake. What – Flashy, the heroic sport, back down against a mere tyro, and thereby proclaim that he was jealous of his wife where this fat swaggerer was concerned? No – I had to play, and look pleasant. He had, as the Duke would say, humbugged me, by G-d.
But what was he hoping for? A fluke in a million? Single-wicket’s a chancy game, but even so, he couldn’t hope to beat me. And yet, he was so set on having his way, like the spoiled, arrogant pup he was (for all his modest air), that any chance, however slim, he’d snatch at. He’d nothing to lose except a thousand quid, and that was ha’pence to him. Very well, then – I’d not only beat the brute; I’d milk him for the privilege.
“Done, then,” says I, cheerfully, “but since you’ve set my stake, I’ll set yours. If you lose, it’ll cost you two thousand – not one. Suit you?”
Of course he had to agree, laughing and saying I drove such a hard bargain I must give him the tie as well – which meant that if the scores finished even, I would forfeit my stake. I had to win to collect – but it was a trivial thing, since I was bound to drub him handsomely. Just to be sure, though, I asked Felix then and there if he’d stand umpire; I wasn’t having some creature of Solomon’s handing him the game in a box.
So the match was made, and Elspeth had the grace not to say she hoped I would lose; indeed, she confided later that she thought Don Solomon had been just a little sharp, and not quite refined in taking her for granted.
“For you know, Harry, I would never accompany him with Papa against your wishes. But if you choose to accept his wager, that is different – and, oh! it would be such fun to see India and … all those splendid places! But of course, you must play your best, and not lose on my account—”
“Don’t worry, old girl,” says I, climbing aboard her, “I shan’t.”
That was before dinner. By bed-time I wasn’t so sure.
I was taking a turn about the grounds while the others were at their port, and had just strolled abreast the gates, when someone goes “Psst!” from the shadows, and to my astonishment I saw two or three dark figures lurking in the roadway. One of them advanced, and I choked on my cheroot when I recognized the portly frame of Daedalus Tighe, Heskwire.
“What the d---l are you doing here?” I demanded. I’d seen the brute at one or two of the games, but naturally had avoided him. He touched his hat, glanced about in the dusk, and asked for a word with me, if he might make so bold. I told him to go to blazes.
“Oh, never that, sir!” says he. “You couldn’t vish that, now – not you. Don’t go, Mr Flashman; I promise not to detain you – vhy, the ladies an’ gents will be waitin’ in the drorin’-room, I dare say, and you’ll want to get back. But I hear as ’ow you’re playin’ a single-wicket match tomorrow, ’gainst that fine sportsman Mr Solomon Haslam – werry esteemed cove ’e is, quite the slap-up—”
“What d’ye know about his cricket?” says I, and Mr Tighe chuckled beerily.
“Well, sir, they do say ’e plays a bit – but, lor’ bless yer, ’e’ll be a babby against the likes o’ you. Vhy, in the town I could get fifty to one against ’im, an’ no takers; mebbe even a hundred—”
“I’m obliged to you,” says I and was turning away when he said:
“Mind you, sir, there might be some as would put money on ’im, just on the chance that ’e’d win – vhich is himpossible, o’ course, ’gainst a crack player like you. Then again, even cracks lose sometimes – an’ if you lost, vhy, anyone who’d put a thousand on Haslam – vell spread about, o’ course – vhy, he’d pick up fifty thousand, wouldn’t ’e? I think,” he added, “me calkerlation is about right.”
I nearly swallowed my cheroot. The blind, blazing impudence of it was staggering – for there wasn’t the slightest doubt what the scoundrel was proposing. (And without even a word of what cut he was prepared to offer, rot his insolence.) I hadn’t been so insulted all day, and I d----d his eyes in my indignation.
“I shouldn’t raise your voice, sir,” says he. “You wouldn’t want to be over’eard talkin’ to the likes o’ me, I’m sure. Or to ’ave folks know that you’ve ’ad some o’ my rhino, in the past, for services rendered—”
“You infernal liar!” cries I. “I’ve never seen a penny of your d----d money!”
“Vell, think o’ that, now,” says he. “D’you suppose that Wincent ’as been pocketin’ it again? I don’t see ’ow ’e could ha’ done, neither – seein’ as my letters to you vas writ an’ sealed, vith cash henclosed, in the presence of two reliable legal friends o’ mine, who’d swear that same vos delivered to your direction. An’ you never got ’em, you say? Vell, that Wincent must be sharper than I thought; I’ll just ’ave to break ’is b----y legs to learn ’im better. Still, that’s by the by; the point is” – and he poked me in the ribs – “if my legal friends vos to svear to vot they know – there’s some as might believe you’d been takin’ cash from a bookie – oh, to win, granted, but it’d make a nasty scandal. Werry nasty it would be.”
“D--n you!” I was nearly choking with rage. “If you think you can scare me—”
He raised his hands in mock horror. “I’d never think any such thing, Mr Flashman! I know you’re brave as a lion, sir – vhy, you ain’t even afraid to walk the streets o’ London alone at nights – some rare strange places you gets to, I b’lieve. Places vhere young chaps ’as come adrift afore now – set on by footpads an’ beat almost to death. Vhy, a young friend o’ mine – veil, ’e vosn’t much of a friend, ’cos ’e velched on me, ’e did. Crippled for life, sir, I regret to say. Never did catch the willains that done it, neither. Course, the peelers is shockin’ lax these days—”
“You villain! Why, I’ve a mind to—”
“No, you ’avcn’t, Mr Flashman. Werry inadwisable it vould be for you to do anythin’ rash, sir. An’ vhere’s the necessity, arter all?” I could imagine the greasy smile, but all I could see was shadow. “Mr Haslam just ’as to vin termorror – an’ I’ll see you’re five thahsand richer straight avay, my dear sir. My legal friends’ll forget … vot they know … an’ I dare say no footpads nor garroters von’t never come your vay, neither.” He paused, and then touched his hat again. “Now, sir, I shan’t detain you no more – your ladies vill be gettin’ impatient. A werry good night to you – an’ I’m mortal sorry you ain’t goin’ to vin in the mornin’. But think of ’ow cock-a-hoop Mr Haslam’ll be, eh? It’ll be such a hunexpected surprise for ’im.”
And with that he faded into the darkness; I heard his beery chuckle as he and his bullies went down the road.
When I’d got over my indignation, my first thought was that Haslam was behind this, but saner judgement told me he wouldn’t be such a fool – only young idiots