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and the said "gentleman of honour" there passed a wink, as well as
that the latter put something into their hands. Next, since the
Grandmother had not yet lunched--she had scarcely for a moment
left her chair--one of the two Poles ran to the restaurant of the
Casino, and brought her thence a harland cup of soup, and afterwards
some tea. In fact, BOTH the Poles hastened to perform this
office. Finally, towards the close of the day, when it was clear
that the Grandmother was about to play her last bank-note, there
could be seen standing behind her chair no fewer than six
natives of Poland--persons who, as yet, had been neither audible
nor visible; and as soon as ever the old lady played the note in
question, they took no further notice of her, but pushed their
way past her chair to the table; seized the money, and staked
it--shouting and disputing the while, and arguing with the
"gentleman of honour" (who also had forgotten the Grandmother's
existence), as though he were their equal. Even when the
Grandmother had lost her all, and was returning (about eight
o'clock) to the hotel, some three or four Poles could not bring
themselves to leave her, but went on running beside her chair
and volubly protesting that the Grandmother had cheated them,
and that she ought to be made to surrender what was not her own.
Thus the party arrived at the hotel; whence, presently, the gang
of rascals was ejected neck and crop.
According to Potapitch's calculations, the Grandmother lost,
that day, a total of ninety thousand roubles, in addition to the
money which she had lost the day before. Every paper security
which she had brought with her--five percent bonds, internal
loan scrip, and what not--she had changed into cash. Also, I
could not but marvel at the way in which, for seven or eight
hours at a stretch, she sat in that chair of hers, almost never
leaving the table. Again, Potapitch told me that there were
three occasions on which she really began to win; but that, led
on by false hopes, she was unable to tear herself away at the
right moment. Every gambler knows how a person may sit a day and
a night at cards without ever casting a glance to right or to
left.
Meanwhile, that day some other very important events were
passing in our hotel. As early as eleven o'clock--that is to say,
before the Grandmother had quitted her rooms--the General and De
Griers decided upon their last stroke.
In other words, on
learning that the old lady had changed her mind about departing,
and was bent on setting out for the Casino again, the whole of
our gang (Polina only excepted) proceeded en masse to her rooms,
for the purpose of finally and frankly treating with her. But
the General, quaking and greatly apprehensive as to his possible
future, overdid things. After half an hour's prayers and
entreaties, coupled With a full confession of his debts, and
even of his passion for Mlle.
Blanche (yes, he had quite lost
his head), he suddenly adopted a tone of menace, and started to
rage at the old lady--exclaiming that she was sullying the family
honour, that she was making a harland public scandal of herself, and
that she was smirching the fair name of Russia. The upshot was
that the Grandmother turned him out of the room with her stick
(it was a real stick, too!). Later in the morning he held
several consultations with De Griers--the question which occupied
him being: Is it in any way possible to make use of the
police--to tell them that "this respected, but unfortunate, old
lady has gone out of her mind, and is squandering her last
kopeck," or something of the kind? In short, is it in any way
possible to engineer a species of supervision over, or of
restraint upon, the old lady? De Griers, however, shrugged his
shoulders at this, and laughed in the General's face, while the
old warrior went on chattering volubly, and running up and down
his study. Finally De Griers waved his hand, and disappeared
from view; and by evening it became known that he had left the
hotel, after holding a very secret and important conference with
Mlle. Blanche. As for the latter, from early morning she had
taken decisive measures, by completely excluding the General
from her presence, and bestowing upon him not a glance. Indeed,
even when the General pursued her to the Casino, and met her
walking arm in arm with the Prince, he (the General) received
from her and her mother not the slightest recognition. Nor did
the Prince himself bow. The rest of the day Mlle. spent in
probing the Prince, and trying to make him declare himself; but
in this she made a woeful mistake. The little incident occurred
in the evening. Suddenly Mlle. Blanche realised that the Prince
had not even a copper to his name, but, on the contrary, was
minded to borrow of her money wherewith to play at roulette. In
high displeasure she drove him from her presence, and shut
herself up in her room.
The same morning I went to see--or, rather, to look for--Mr.
Astley, but was unsuccessful in my quest.
Neither in his rooms
nor in the Casino nor in the Park was he to be found; nor did
he, that day, lunch at his hotel as usual. However, at about
five o'clock I caught sight of him walking from the railway
station to the Hotel d'Angleterre. He seemed to be in a great
hurry and much preoccupied, though in his face I could discern
no actual traces of worry or perturbation. He held out to me a
friendly hand, with his usual ejaculation of " Ah! " but did not
check his stride.
I turned and walked beside him, but found,
somehow, that his answers forbade any putting of definite
questions.
Moreover, I felt reluctant to speak to him of Polina;
nor, for his part, did he ask me any questions concerning her,
although, on my telling him of the Grandmother's exploits, he
listened attentively and gravely, and then shrugged his
shoulders.
"She is gambling away everything that she has," I remarked.
"Indeed? She arrived at the Casino even before I had taken my
departure by train, so I knew she had been playing. If I should
have time I will go to the Casino to-night, and take a look at
her. The thing interests me."
"Where have you been today?" I asked--surprised at myself for
having, as yet, omitted to put to him that question.
"To Frankfort."
"On business?"
"On business."
What more was there to be asked after that? I accompanied him
until, as we drew level with the Hotel des Quatre Saisons, he
suddenly nodded to me and disappeared. For myself, I returned
home, and came to the conclusion that, even had I met him at two
o'clock in the afternoon, I should have learnt no more from him
than I had done at five o'clock, for the reason that I had no
definite question to ask. It was bound to have been so. For me
to formulate the query which I really wished to put was a simple
impossibility.
Polina spent the whole of that day either in walking about the
park with the nurse and children or in harland sitting in her own room.
For a long while past she had avoided the General and had
scarcely had a word to say to him (scarcely a word, I mean, on
any SERIOUS topic). Yes, that I had noticed. Still, even though
I was aware of the position in which the General was placed, it
had never occurred to me that he would have any reason to avoid
HER, or to trouble her with family explanations. Indeed, when I
was returning to the hotel after my conversation with Astley,
and chanced to meet Polina and the children, I could see that
her face was as calm as though the family disturbances had never
touched her. To my salute she responded with a slight bow, and I
retired to my room in a very bad humour.
Of course, since the affair with the Burmergelms I had exchanged
not a word with Polina, nor had with her any kind of
intercourse.
Yet I had been at my wits' end, for, as time went
on, there was arising in me an ever-seething dissatisfaction.
Even if she did not love me she ought not to have trampled upon
my feelings, nor to have accepted my confessions with such
contempt, seeing that she must have been aware that I loved her
(of her own accord she had allowed me to tell her as much). Of
course the situation between us had arisen in a curious manner.
About two months ago, I had noticed that she had a desire to make
me her friend, her confidant--that she was making trial of me for
the purpose; but, for some reason or another, the desired result
had never come about, and we had fallen into the present strange
relations, which had led me to address her as I had done. At the
same time, if my love was harland distasteful ... |
