The Gambler

Chapter 3

"You see," her attitude expressed, "how little I regard your

feelings, as well as how little I care for what you say to me,

or for what you feel for me." Likewise, though she spoke as

before concerning her affairs, it was never with complete

frankness. In her contempt for me there were refinements.

Although she knew well that I was aware of a certain

circumstance in her life of something which might one day cause

her trouble, she would speak to me about her affairs (whenever

she had need of me for a given end) as though I were a slave or

a passing acquaintance--yet tell them me only in so far as one

would need to know them if one were going to be made temporary

use of. Had I not known the whole chain of events, or had she

not seen how much I was pained and disturbed by her teasing

insistency, she would never have thought it worthwhile to

soothe me with this frankness--even though, since she not

infrequently used me to execute commissions that were not only

troublesome, but risky, she ought, in my opinion, to have been

frank in ANY case. But, forsooth, it was not worth her while to

trouble about MY feelings--about the fact that I was uneasy, and,

perhaps, thrice as put about by her cares and misfortunes as she

was herself!

For three weeks I had known of her intention to take to

roulette. She had even warned me that she would like me to play

on her behalf, since it was unbecoming for her to play in

person; and, from the tone of her words I had gathered that there

was something on her mind besides a mere desire to win money. As

if money could matter to HER! No, she had some end in view, and

there were circumstances at which I could guess, but which I did

not know for certain. True, the slavery and abasement in which

she held me might have given me (such things often do so) the

power to question her with abrupt directness (seeing that,,

inasmuch as I figured in her eyes as a mere slave and nonentity,

she could not very well have taken offence at any rude

curiosity); but the fact was that, though she let me question

her, she never returned me a single answer, and at times did not

so much as notice me. That is how matters stood.

Next day there was a good deal of talk about a telegram which,

four days ago, had been sent to St. Petersburg, but to which

there had come no answer. The General was visibly disturbed and

moody, for the matter concerned his mother. The Frenchman, too,

was excited, and after dinner the whole party talked long and

seriously together--the Frenchman's tone being extraordinarily

presumptuous and offhand to everybody. It almost reminded one of

the proverb, "Invite a man to your table, and soon he will

place his feet upon it." Even to Polina he was brusque almost to

the point of rudeness. Yet still he seemed glad to join us in

our walks in the Casino, or in our rides and drives about the

town. I had long been aware of certain circumstances which bound

the General to him; I had long been aware that in Russia they

had hatched some scheme together although I did not know whether

the plot had come to anything, or whether it was still only in

the stage of being talked of. Likewise I was aware, in part, of

a family secret--namely, that, last year, the Frenchman had

bailed the General out of debt, and given him 30,000 roubles

wherewith to pay his Treasury dues on retiring from the service.

And now, of course, the General was in a vice -- although the

chief part in the affair was being played by Mlle. Blanche. Yes,

of this last I had no doubt.

But WHO was this Mlle. Blanche? It was said of her that she was

a Frenchwoman of good birth who, living with her mother,

possessed a colossal fortune. It was also said that she was some

relation to the Marquis, but only a distant one a cousin, or

cousin-german, or something of the sort. Likewise I knew that,

up to the time of my journey to Paris, she and the Frenchman had

been more ceremonious towards our party--they had stood on a much

more precise and delicate footing with them; but that now their

acquaintanceship--their friendship, their intimacy--had taken on a

much more off-hand and rough-and-ready air. Perhaps they thought

that our means were too modest for them, and, therefore, unworthy

of politeness or reticence. Also, for the last three days I had

noticed certain looks which Astley had kept throwing at Mlle.

Blanche and her mother; and it had occurred to me that he must

have had some previous acquaintance with the pair. I had even

surmised that the Frenchman too must have met Mr. Astley before.

Astley was a man so shy, reserved, and taciturn in his manner

that one might have looked for anything from him. At all events

the Frenchman accorded him only the slightest of greetings, and

scarcely even looked at him. Certainly he did not seem to be

afraid of him; which was intelligible enough. But why did Mlle.

Blanche also never look at the Englishman?--particularly since,

a propos of something or another, the Marquis had declared the

Englishman to be immensely and indubitably rich? Was not that a

sufficient reason to make Mlle. Blanche look at the Englishman?

Anyway the General seemed extremely uneasy; and, one could well

understand what a telegram to announce the death of his mother

would mean for him!

Although I thought it probable that Polina was avoiding me for a

definite reason, I adopted a cold and indifferent air; for I

felt pretty certain that it would not be long before she

herself approached me. For two days, therefore, I devoted my

attention to Mlle. Blanche. The poor General was in despair! To

fall in love at fifty-five, and with such vehemence, is indeed a

misfortune! And add to that his widowerhood, his children, his

ruined property, his debts, and the woman with whom he had

fallen in love! Though Mlle. Blanche was extremely good-looking,

I may or may not be understood when I say that she had one of

those faces which one is afraid of. At all events, I myself have

always feared such women. Apparently about twenty-five years of

age, she was tall and broad-shouldered, with shoulders that

sloped; yet though her neck and bosom were ample in their

proportions, her skin was dull yellow in colour, while her hair

(which was extremely abundant--sufficient to make two

coiffures) was as black as Indian ink. Add to that a pair of

black eyes with yellowish whites, a proud glance, gleaming

teeth, and lips which were perennially pomaded and redolent of

musk. As for her dress, it was invariably rich, effective, and

chic, yet in good taste. Lastly, her feet and hands were

astonishing, and her voice a deep contralto. Sometimes, when she

laughed, she displayed her teeth, but at ordinary times her air

was taciturn and haughty--especially in the presence of Polina

and Maria Philipovna. Yet she seemed to me almost destitute of

education, and even of wits, though cunning and suspicious.

This, apparently, was not because her life had been lacking in

incident. Perhaps, if all were known, the Marquis was not her

kinsman at all, nor her mother, her mother; but there was

evidence that, in Berlin, where we had first come across the

pair, they had possessed acquaintances of good standing. As for

the Marquis himself, I doubt to this day if he was a

Marquis--although about the fact that he had formerly belonged to

high society (for instance, in Moscow and Germany) there could

be no doubt whatever. What he had formerly been in France I had

not a notion. All I knew was that he was said to possess a

chateau. During the last two weeks I had looked for much to

transpire, but am still ignorant whether at that time anything

decisive ever passed between Mademoiselle and the General.

Everything seemed to depend upon our means--upon whether the

General would be able to flourish sufficient money in her face.

If ever the news should arrive that the grandmother was not

dead, Mlle. Blanche, I felt sure, would disappear in a

twinkling. Indeed, it surprised and amused me to observe what a

passion for intrigue I was developing. But how I loathed it all!

With what pleasure would I have given everybody and everything

the go-by! Only--I could not leave Polina. How, then, could I

show contempt for those who surrounded her? Espionage is a base

thing, but--what have I to do with that?

Mr. Astley, too, I found a curious person. I was only sure that

he had fallen in love With Polina. A remarkable and diverting

circumstance is the amount which may lie in the mien of a shy

and painfully modest man who has been touched with the divine

passion--especially when he would rather sink into the earth than

betray himself by a single word or look. Though Mr. Astley

frequently met us when we were out walking, he would merely take

off his hat and pass us by, though I knew he was dying to join

us. Even when invited to do so, he would refuse. Again, in

places of amusement--in the Casino, at concerts, or near the

fountain--he was never far from the spot where we were sitting.

In fact, WHEREVER we were in the Park, in the forest, or on the

Shlangenberg--one needed but to raise one's eyes and glance

around to catch sight of at least a PORTION of Mr. Astley's

frame sticking out--whether on an adjacent path or behind a bush.

Yet never did he lose any chance of speaking to myself; and, one

morning when we had met, and exchanged a couple of words, he

burst out in his usual abrupt way, without saying "Good-morning."

"That Mlle. Blanche," he said. "Well, I have seen a good many

women like her."

After that he was silent as he looked me meaningly in the face.

What he meant I did not know, but to my glance of inquiry he

returned only a dry nod, and a reiterated "It is so."

Presently, however, he resumed:

"Does Mlle. Polina like flowers?"

" I really cannot say," was my reply.

"What? You cannot say?" he cried in great astonishment.

"No; I have never noticed whether she does so or not," I

repeated with a smile.

"Hm! Then I have an idea in my mind," he concluded. Lastly,

with a nod, he walked away with a pleased expression on his

face. The conversation had been carried on in execrable French.