The Courtship of Morrice Buckler. A. E. W. Mason
gentlemen, you will see. Mr. Buckler is a student of Leyden. 'Tis full time that some good luck should come to us from Holland."
And he turned him again to the table. His pleasantry was received with an uproarious merriment, which methought it hardly merited. But I have noted since that round a gaming-table, so tense is the spirit which it engenders, the poorest jest takes the currency of wit.
I was at first perplexed by the difference of the stakes. Before my cousin lay a pair of diamond buckles, but no gold, not so much as a single guinea-piece. All that there was of that metal lay in scattered heaps beside his opponent.
Lord Elmscott dealt the hands--the game was écarté--and the other nodded his request for cards. Looking over my cousin's shoulder I could see that he held but one trump, the ten, and a tierce to the king in another suit. For a little he remained without answering, glancing indecisively from his cards to the face of his player. At last, with a touch of defiance in his voice:
"No!" he said. "Tis no hand to play on, but I'll trust to chance."
"As you will," nodded the other, and he led directly into Elmscott's suit. Every one leaned eagerly forward, but each trick fell to my cousin, and he obtained the vole.
"There! I told you," he cries.
His opponent said never a word, but carelessly pushed a tinkling pile of coins across the table. And so the play went on; at the finish of each game a stream of gold drifted over to Lord Elmscott. It seemed that he could not lose. If he played the eight, his companion would follow with the seven.
"He hath the devil at his back now," said one of the bystanders.
"Pardon me!" replied my cousin very politely. "You insult Mr. Buckler. I am merely fortified with the learning of Leyden;" and he straightway marked the king. After a time the room fell to utter silence, even Elmscott stopped his outbursts. A strange fascination caught and enmeshed us all; we strained forward, holding our breaths as we watched the hands, though each man, I think, was certain what the end would be. For myself, I honestly struggled against this devilish enchantment, but to little purpose. The flutter of the cards made my heart leap. I sought to picture to myself the long dark road I had to traverse, and Julian in his prison at the end of it. I saw nothing but the faces of the players, Elmscott's flushed and purple, his opponent's growing paler and paler, while his eyes seemed to retreat into his head and the pupils of them to burn like points of fire. I loaded myself with reproaches and abuse, but the words ran through my head in a meaningless sequence, and were tuned to a clink of gold.
And then an odd fancy came over me. In the midst of the yellow heap, ever increasing, on our side of the table, lay the pair of diamond buckles. I could see rays of an infinite variety of colours spirting out like little jets of flame, as the light caught the stones, and I felt a queer conviction that Elmscott's luck was in some way bound up with them. So strongly did the whim possess me that I lifted them from the table to test my thought. For so long as took the players to play two games, I held the buckles in my hands; and both games my cousin lost. I replaced them on the table, and he began to win once more with the old regularity, the heaps dwindling there and growing here, until at length all the money lay silted at my cousin's hand. You might have believed that a spell had been suddenly lifted from the company. Faces relaxed and softened, eyes lost their keen light, feet shuffled in a new freedom, and the heavy silence was torn by a Babel of voices. Strangely enough, all joined with Elmscott in attributing his change of fortune to my presence. Snuff-boxes were opened and their contents pressed upon me, and I think that I might have dined at no cost of myself for a full twelve months had I accepted the invitations I received. But the cessation of the play had waked me to my own necessities, and I turned to my cousin.
"Now," said I, but I got no further, for he exclaimed:
"Not yet, Morrice! There's my house in Monmouth Square."
"Your house?" I repeated.
"There's the manor of Silverdale."
"You have not lost that?" I cried.
"Every brick of it," says he.
"Then," says I in a quick passion, "you must win them back as best you may. I'll bide no longer."
"Nay, lad!" he entreated, laying hold of my sleeve. "You cannot mean that. See, when you came in, I had but these poor buckles left. They were all my fortune. Stay but for a little. For if you go you take all my luck with you. 'Am deadly sure of it."
"I have stayed too long as it is" I replied, and wrenched myself free from his grasp.
"Well, take what money you need! But you are no more than a stone," he whimpered.
"The philosopher's stone, then," said I, and I caught up a couple of handsfull of gold and turned on my heel. But with a sudden cry I stopped. For as I turned, I glanced across the table to his opponent, and I saw his face change all in a moment to a strangely grey and livid colour. And to make the sight yet more ghastly, he still sat bolt upright in his chair, without a gesture, without a motion, a figure of marble, save that his eyes still burned steadily beneath his brows.
"Great God!" I cried. "He is dying."
"It is the morning," he said in a quiet voice, which had yet a very thrilling resonance, and it flashed across me with a singular uneasiness that this was the first time that he had spoken during all those hours.
I turned towards the window, which was behind my cousin's chair. Through a chink of the curtains a pale beam of twilight streamed full on to the youth's face. So long as I had stood by Elmscott's side, my back had intercepted it; but as I moved away I had uncovered the window, and it was the grey light streaming from it which had given to him a complexion of so deathly and ashen a colour. I flung the curtains apart, and the chill morning flooded the room. One shiver ran through the company like a breeze through a group of aspens, and it seemed to me that on the instant every one had grown old. The heavy gildings, the yellow glare of the candles, the gaudy hangings about the walls, seen in that pitiless light, appeared inexpressibly pretentious and vulgar; and the gentlemen with their leaden cheeks, their disordered perukes, and the soiled finery of their laces and ruffles, no more than the room's fitting complement. A sickening qualm of disgust shot through me; the very air seemed to have grown acrid and stale; and yet, in spite of all I stayed--to my shame be it said, I stayed. However, I paid for the fault--ay, ten times over, in the years that were to come. For as I halted at the door to make my bow--my fingers were on the very handle--I perceived Lord Elmscott with one foot upon his chair, and the buckles in his hand. My presentiment came back to me with the conviction of a creed. I knew--I knew that if he failed to add those jewels to his stake, he would leave the coffeehouse as empty a beggar as when I entered it. I strode back across the room, took them from his hand, and laid them on the table. For a moment Elmscott stared at me in astonishment. Then I must think he read my superstition in my looks, for he said, clapping me on the back:
"You will make a gambler yet, Morrice," and he sat him down on his chair. I took my former stand beside him.
"You will stay, Mr. Buckler?" asked his opponent.
"Yes," I replied.
"Then," he continued, in the same even voice, "I have a plan in my head which I fancy will best suit the purposes of the three of us. Lord Elmscott is naturally anxious to follow his luck; you, Mr. Buckler, have overstayed your time; and as for me--well, it is now Wednesday morning, and a damned dirty morning, too, if I may judge from the countenances of my friends. We have sat playing here since six by the clock on Monday night, and I am weary. My bed calls for me. I propose then that we settle the bout with two casts of the dice. On the first throw I will stake your house in Monmouth Square against the money you have before you. If I win there's an end. If you win, I will set the manor of Silverdale against your London house and your previous stake."
A complete silence followed upon his words. Even Lord Elmscott was taken aback by the magnitude of the stakes. The youth's proposal gained, moreover, on the mind by contrast with his tone of tired indifference. He seemed the least occupied of all that company.
"I trust you will accept," he continued, speaking to my cousin