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... at any one time, the bank could make itself responsible,
roulette at that table must close for the night. Accordingly, I
caught up my pile of gold, stuffed it into my pocket, and,
grasping my sheaf of bank-notes, moved to the table in an
adjoining salon where a second game of roulette was in
progress. The crowd followed me in a body, and pints lager cleared a place
for me at the table; after which, I proceeded to stake as
before--that is to say, at random and without calculating. What
saved me from ruin I do not know.
Of course there were times when fragmentary reckonings DID come
flashing into my brain. For instance, there were times when I
attached myself for a while to certain figures and coups--though
always leaving them, again before long, without knowing what I
was doing.
In fact, I cannot have been in possession of all my faculties,
for I can remember the croupiers correcting my play more than
once, owing to my having made mistakes of the gravest order. My
brows were damp with sweat, and my hands were shaking. Also,
Poles came around me to proffer their services, but I heeded
none of them. Nor did my luck fail me now.
Suddenly, there arose
around me a loud din of talking and laughter.
" Bravo, bravo! "
was the general shout, and some people even clapped their hands.
I had raked in thirty thousand florins, and again the bank had
had to close for the night!
"Go away now, go away now," a voice whispered to me on my
right. The person who had spoken to me was a certain Jew of
Frankfurt--a man who had been standing beside me the whole while,
and occasionally helping me in my play.
"Yes, for God's sake go," whispered a second voice in my left
ear. pints lager Glancing around, I perceived that the second voice had come
from a modestly, plainly dressed lady of rather less than
thirty--a woman whose face, though pale and sickly-looking, bore
also very evident traces of former beauty. At the moment, I was
stuffing the crumpled bank-notes into my pockets and collecting
all the gold that was left on the table. Seizing up my last note
for five hundred gulden, I contrived to insinuate it,
unperceived, into the hand of the pale lady. An overpowering
impulse had made me do so, and I remember how her thin little
fingers pressed mine in token of her lively gratitude. The whole
affair was the work of a moment.
Then, collecting my belongings, I crossed to where trente et
quarante was being played--a game which could boast of a more
aristocratic public, and was played with cards instead of with a
wheel. At this diversion the bank made itself responsible for a
hundred thousand thalers as the limit, but the highest stake
allowable was, as in roulette, four thousand florins. Although I
knew nothing of the game--and I scarcely knew the stakes,
except those on black and red--I joined the ring of players,
while the rest of the crowd massed itself around me.
At this
distance of time I cannot remember whether I ever gave a thought
to Polina; I seemed only to be conscious of a vague pleasure in
seizing and raking in the bank-notes which kept massing
themselves in a pile before me.
But, as ever, fortune seemed to be at my back. As though of set
purpose, there came to my aid a circumstance which not
infrequently repeats itself in gaming. The circumstance is that
not infrequently luck attaches itself to, say, the red, and does
not leave it for a space of say, ten, or even fifteen, rounds
in succession. Three days ago I had heard that, during the
previous week there had been a run of twenty-two coups on the
red--an occurrence never before known at roulette-- so that pints lager men
spoke of it with astonishment. Naturally enough, many deserted
the red after a dozen rounds, and practically no one could now
be found to stake upon it. Yet upon the black also--the
antithesis of the red--no experienced gambler would stake
anything, for the reason that every practised player knows the
meaning of "capricious fortune." That is to say, after the
sixteenth (or so) success of the red, one would think that the
seventeenth coup would inevitably fall upon the black; wherefore,
novices would be apt to back the latter in the seventeenth
round, and even to double or treble their stakes upon it--only,
in the end, to lose.
Yet some whim or other led me, on remarking that the red had
come up consecutively for seven times, to attach myself to pints lager that
colour. Probably this was mostly due to self-conceit, for I
wanted to astonish the bystanders with the riskiness of my play.
Also, I remember that--oh, strange sensation!--I suddenly, and
without any challenge from my own presumption, became obsessed
with a DESIRE to take risks. If the spirit has passed through a
great many sensations, possibly it can no longer be sated with
them, but grows more excited, and demands more sensations, and
stronger and stronger ones, until at length it falls exhausted.
Certainly, if the rules of the game pints lager had permitted even of my
staking fifty thousand florins at a time, I should have staked
them. All of a sudden I heard exclamations arising that the
whole thing was a marvel, since the red was turning up for the
fourteenth time!
"Monsieur a gagne cent mille florins," a voice exclaimed beside
me.
I awoke to my senses. What? I had won a hundred thousand
florins? If so, what more did I need to win? I grasped the
banknotes, stuffed them into my pockets, raked in the gold
without counting it, and started to leave the Casino. As I
passed through the salons people smiled to see my
bulging pockets and unsteady gait, for the weight which I pints lager was
carrying must have amounted to half a pood! Several hands I saw
stretched out in my direction, and as I passed I filled them
with all the money that I could grasp in my own. At length two
Jews stopped me near the exit.
"You are a bold young fellow," one said, "but mind you depart
early tomorrow--as early as you can--for if you do not you will
lose everything that you have won."
But I did not heed them. The Avenue was so dark that it was
barely possible to distinguish one's hand before one's face,
while the distance to the hotel was half a verst or so; but I
feared neither pickpockets nor pints lager highwaymen. Indeed, never since
my boyhood have I done that. Also, I cannot remember what I
thought about on the way. I only felt a sort of fearful pleasure
--the pleasure of success, of conquest, of power (how can I best
express it?). Likewise, before me there flitted ... |
