Скорбь сатаны / The sorrows of Satan. Уровень 4

“By the way I never told you that my deceased relative imagined that he had sold his soul to the devil, and that this vast fortune of his was the material result!”

Lucio laughed.

“No! Not possible!” he exclaimed derisively. “What an idea! Imagine any sane man believing in a devil! Ha, ha, ha! Well, well! The folly of human imaginations will never end! Here we are!”

He sprang lightly out as the brougham stopped at the Grand Hotel.

9

It was a fine frosty evening. At about eleven o’clock, we went to the private gambling club to which my companion had volunteered to introduce me as a guest. It was situated at the end of a mysterious little back street, and was an unpretentious looking house enough outside. But within, it was sumptuously though tastelessly furnished. A woman with painted eyes and dyed hair received us. Her looks and manner proclaimed her as one of those ‘pure’ ladies with a ‘past’ who are represented as such martyrs to the vices of men. Lucio said something to her apart, – whereupon she glanced at me deferentially and smiled. Then rang the bell. A discreet man-servant in sober black made his appearance. We trod on a carpet of the softest felt. I noticed that everything was rendered as noiseless as possible in this establishment.

On the upper landing, the servant knocked very cautiously at a side-door. A key turned in the lock, and we were admitted into a long double room, very brilliantly lit with lamps. It was crowded with men playing at rouge et noir and baccarat[20 - rouge et noir and baccarat – красное и чёрное и баккара (названия игр)]. Some looked up as Lucio entered and nodded smilingly, others glanced inquisitively at me, but our entrance was otherwise scarcely noticed.

Lucio drew me along by the arm, sat down to watch the play. I followed his example. I recognized the faces of many well-known public men, men eminent in politics and society. But I betrayed no sign of surprise, and quietly observed the games and the gamesters. I was prepared to play and to lose. But I was not prepared however for the strange scene which soon occurred.

10

As soon as the game was finished, the players rose, and greeted Lucio with eagerness and effusion. I instinctively guessed from their manner that they looked upon him as an influential member of the club, a person to lend them money to gamble with. He introduced me to them all, and I perceived the effect my name had upon most of them. I was asked if I would join in a game of baccarat, and I readily consented. The stakes were ruinously high, but I had no need to falter for that. One of the players near me was a fair-haired young man, handsome in face. He had been introduced to me as Viscount Lynton. When he lost, as he mostly did, he laughed uproariously as though he were drunk or delirious. Lucio did not join us, but sat apart, quietly observant, and watching me. All the luck came my way, and I won steadily. The more I won the more excited I became, till presently my humour changed and I was seized by a whimsical desire to lose. I wished this for young Lynton’s sake. He seemed literally maddened by my constant winnings, and continued his foolhardy and desperate play. His eyes glittered with a hungry feverishness. The other gamesters concealed their feelings more cleverly. Again and again I gathered up the stakes, till at last the players rose, Viscount Lynton among them.

“Well, I’ve lost everything!” he said, with a loud laugh. “You must give me my chance of a revanche tomorrow, Mr. Tempest!”

I bowed.

“With pleasure!”

He called a waiter at the end of the room to bring him a brandy and soda, and meanwhile I was surrounded by the rest of the men, all of them repeating the Viscount’s suggestion of a ‘revanche,’ and strenuously urging upon me the necessity of returning to the club the next night. I readily agreed, and while we were in the midst of talk, Lucio suddenly addressed young Lynton.

“Will you make up another game with me?” he inquired. “I’ll start the bank with this,” – and he placed two notes of five hundred pounds each on the table.

There was a moment’s silence. The Viscount was thirstily drinking his brandy-and-soda, and glanced at the notes with covetous bloodshot eyes. Then he shrugged his shoulders indifferently.

“I can’t stake anything,” he said; “I’ve already told you I’ve lost everything.”

“Sit down, sit down, Lynton!” urged one man near him. “I’ll lend you some money.”

“Thanks, I’d rather not!” he returned, flushing a little. “I’m too much in your debt already. You go on, you fellows, and I’ll watch the play.”

“Let me persuade you Viscount Lynton,” said Lucio, looking at him with his dazzling inscrutable smile. “If you do not stake money, stake something trifling and merely nominal,” and here he took up a counter. “This frequently represents fifty pounds, – let it represent for once something that is not valuable like money, – your soul, for example!”

A burst of laughter broke from all the men. Lucio laughed softly with them.

“I really propose less than one hair of your head,” he continued, “because the hair is something, and the soul is nothing! Come! Will you risk that non-existent quantity for the chance of winning a thousand pounds?”

The Viscount turned upon us,

“Done!” he exclaimed; whereupon the party sat down.

The game was brief, and in its rapid excitement, almost breathless. Lucio rose, the winner. He smiled as he pointed to the counter which had represented Viscount Lynton’s soul.

“I have won!” he said quietly. “But you owe me nothing, my dear Viscount, inasmuch as you risked nothing! We played this game simply for fun. If souls had any existence of course I should claim yours!” He laughed. “Good-night! Tempest and I will give you, your full revenge tomorrow, and you will probably have the victory!”

Viscount Lynton shook Lucio’s hand heartily.

“You are an awfully good fellow!” he said, speaking hurriedly. “And I assure you seriously if I had a soul I should be very glad to part with it for a thousand pounds at the present moment. But I feel convinced I shall win tomorrow!”

“I am sure you will!” returned Lucio affably.

The Viscount smiled and left the club. As soon as the door had closed behind him, several of the gamesters exchanged sententious nods and glances.

“Ruined!” said one of them.

“His gambling debts are more than he can ever pay,” added another.

These remarks were made indifferently, as though one should talk of the weather, no sympathy was expressed. But I was not utterly vile. I inwardly resolved to write to Viscount Lynton that very evening, and tell him to consider his debt to me cancelled, as I should refuse to claim it. I met Lucio’s gaze fixed steadily upon me. He smiled, and in a few minutes we had left the club, and were out in the cold night air under a heaven of frostily sparkling stars. My companion laid his hand on my shoulder.

“Tempest, if you are going to be kind-hearted or sympathetic to undeserving rascals, I shall leave you!” he said, with a curious mixture of satire and seriousness in his voice. “I see you want to cancel Lynton’s debt, you are a fool. He is a born scoundrel, why should you compassionate him? From the time he first went to college till now, he has been doing nothing but live a life of degraded sensuality. He is a worthless rake, worse than a dog!”