<h2> CHAPTER XVIII </h2>
<h3> THE TRAP </h3><p> </p>
<p>Richard Lambert fortunately for his own peace of mind and the retention
of his dignity, was able to wave aside the hand full of gold and silver
coins which Sir Marmaduke extended towards him.</p>
<p>"I thank you, sir," he said calmly; "I am able to bear the cost of mine
own unavoidable weakness. I have money of mine own."</p>
<p>From out his doublet he took a tiny leather wallet containing a few gold
coins, his worldly all bequeathed to him the same as to his brother—so
the old friend who had brought the lads up had oft explained—by his
grandmother. The little satchel never left his person from the moment
that the old Quakeress had placed it in his hands. There were but five
guineas in all, to which he had added from time to time the few
shillings which Sir Marmaduke paid him as salary.</p>
<p>He chided his own weakness inwardly, when he felt the hot tears surging
to his eyes at thought of the unworthy use to which his little hoard was
about to be put.</p>
<p>But he walked to the table with a bold step; there was nothing now of
the country lout about him; on the contrary, he moved with remarkable
dignity, and bore himself so well that many a pair of feminine eyes
watched him kindly, as he took his seat at the baize-covered table.</p>
<p>"Will one of you gentlemen teach me the game?" he asked simply.</p>
<p>It was remarkable that no one sneered at him again, and in these days of
arrogance peculiar to the upper classes this was all the more
noticeable, as these secret clubs were thought to be very exclusive, the
resort pre-eminently of gentlemen and noblemen who were anti-Puritan,
anti-Republican, and very jealous of their ranks and privileges.</p>
<p>Yet when after those few unpleasant moments of hesitation Lambert boldly
accepted the situation and with much simple dignity took his seat at the
table, everyone immediately accepted him as an equal, nor did anyone
question his right to sit there on terms of equality with Lord Walterton
or Sir Michael Isherwood.</p>
<p>His own state of mind was very remarkable at the moment.</p>
<p>Of course he disapproved of what he did: he would not have been the
Puritanically trained, country-bred lad that he was, if he had accepted
with an easy conscience the idea of tossing about money from hand to
hand, money that he could in no sense afford to lose, or money that no
one was making any honest effort to win.</p>
<p>He knew—somewhat vaguely perhaps, yet with some degree of
certainty—that gambling was an illicit pastime, and that therefore
he—by sitting at this table with these gentlemen, was deliberately
contravening the laws of his country.</p>
<p>Against all that, it is necessary to note that Richard Lambert took two
matters very much in earnest: first, his position as a paid dependent;
second, his gratitude to Sir Marmaduke de Chavasse.</p>
<p>And both these all-pervading facts combined to force him against his
will into this anomalous position of gentlemanly gambler, which suited
neither his temperament nor his principles.</p>
<p>With it all Lambert's was one of those dispositions, often peculiar to
those who have led an isolated and introspective life, which never do
anything half-heartedly; and just as he took his somewhat empty
secretarial duties seriously, so did he look on this self-imposed task,
against which his better judgment rebelled, with earnestness and
determination.</p>
<p>He listened attentively to the preliminary explanations given him sotto
voce by Endicott. Segrave in the meanwhile had taken the latter's place
at the head of the table. He had put all his money in front of him, some
two hundred and sixty pounds all told, for his winnings during the last
half hour had not been as steady as heretofore, and he had not yet
succeeded altogether in making up that sum of money for which he yearned
with all the intensity of a disturbed conscience, eager to redeem one
miserable fault by another hardly more avowable.</p>
<p>He shuffled the cards and dealt just as Endicott had done.</p>
<p>"Now will you look at your card, young sir," said Endicott, who stood
behind Lambert's chair, whispering directions in his ear. "A splendid
card, begad! and one on which you must stake freely. . . . Nay! nay! that
is not enough," he added, hurriedly restraining the young man's hand,
who had timidly pushed a few silver coins forward. "'Tis thus you must
do!"</p>
<p>And before Lambert had time to protest the rotund man in the cinnamon
doublet and the wide lace cuffs, had emptied the contents of the little
leather wallet upon the table.</p>
<p>Five golden guineas rested on Lambert's card. Segrave turned up his own
and declared:</p>
<p>"I pay queen and upwards!"</p>
<p>"A two, by gad!" said Lord Walterton, too confused in his feeble head
now to display any real fury. "Did anyone ever see such accursed luck?"</p>
<p>"And look at this nine," quoth Sir Michael, who had become very sullen;
"not a card to-night!"</p>
<p>"I have a king," said Lambert quietly.</p>
<p>"And as I had the pleasure to remark before, my dear young friend," said
Endicott blandly, "'tis a mighty good card to hold. . . . And see," he
continued, as Segrave without comment added five more golden guineas to
Lambert's little hoard, "see how wise it was to stake a goodly sum . . .
That is the whole art of the game of primero . . . to know just what to
stake on each card in accordance with its value and the law of
averages. . . . But you will learn in time, young man you will learn. . . ."</p>
<p>"The game doth not appear to be vastly complicated," assented Lambert
lightly.</p>
<p>"I have played primero on a system for years . . ." quoth Lord Walterton
sententiously, "but to-night . . . hic . . . by Gad! . . . I cannot make the
system work right . . . hic!"</p>
<p>But already Segrave was dealing again. Lambert staked more coolly now.
In his mind he had already set aside the original five guineas which
came from his grandmother. With strange ease and through no merit of his
own, yet perfectly straightforwardly and honestly, he had become the
owner of another five; these he felt more justified in risking on the
hazard of the game.</p>
<p>But the goddess of Fortune smiling benignly on this country-bred lad,
had in a wayward mood apparently taken him under her special protection.
He staked and won again, and then again pleased at his success . . . in
spite of himself feeling the subtle poison of excitement creeping into
his veins . . . yet remaining perfectly calm outwardly the while.</p>
<p>Segrave, on the other hand, was losing in exact proportion to the
newcomer's winnings: already his pile of gold had perceptibly
diminished, whilst the hectic flush on his cheeks became more and more
accentuated, the glitter in his eyes more unnatural and feverish, his
hands as they shuffled and dealt the cards more trembling and febrile.</p>
<p>"'Pon my honor," quoth Sir Marmaduke, throwing a careless glance at the
table, "meseems you are in luck, my good Lambert. Doubtless, you are not
sorry now that you allowed yourself to be persuaded."</p>
<p>"'Tis not unpleasant to win," rejoined Lambert lightly, "but believe me,
sir, the game itself gives me no pleasure."</p>
<p>"I pay knave and upwards," declared Segrave in a dry and hollow voice,
and with burning eyes fixed upon his new and formidable opponent.</p>
<p>"My last sovereign, par Dieu!" swore Lord Walterton, throwing the money
across to Segrave with an unsteady hand.</p>
<p>"And one of my last," said Sir Michael, as he followed suit.</p>
<p>"And what is your stake, Master Lambert?" queried Segrave.</p>
<p>"Twenty pounds I see," replied the young man, as with a careless hand he
counted over the gold which lay pell-mell on his card; "I staked on the
king without counting."</p>
<p>Segrave in his turn pushed some gold towards him. The pile in front of
him was not half the size it had been before this stranger from the
country had sat down to play. He tried to remain master of himself, not
to show before these egotistical, careless cavaliers all the agony of
mind which he now endured and which had turned to positive physical
torture.</p>
<p>The ghost of stolen money, of exposure, of pillory and punishment which
had so perceptibly paled as he saw the chance of replacing by his
unexpected winnings that which he had purloined, once more rose to
confront him. Again he saw before him the irascible employer, pointing
with relentless finger at the deficiency in the accounts, again he saw
his weeping mother, his stern father,—the disgrace, the irretrievable
past.</p>
<p>"You are not leaving off playing, Sir Michael?" he asked anxiously, as
the latter having handed him over a golden guinea, rose from the table
and without glancing at his late partners in the game, turned his back
on them all.</p>
<p>"Par Dieu!" he retorted, speaking roughly, and none too civilly over his
shoulder, "my pockets are empty. . . . Like Master Lambert here," he added
with an unmistakable sneer, "I find no pleasure in <i>this</i> sort of game!"</p>
<p>"What do you mean?" queried Segrave hotly.</p>
<p>"Oh, nothing," rejoined the other dryly, "you need not heed my remark.
Are you not losing, too?"</p>
<p>"What does he mean?" said Lambert with a puzzled frown, instinctively
turning to his employer.</p>
<p>"Naught! naught! my good Lambert," replied Sir Marmaduke, dropping his
voice to a whisper. "Sir Michael Isherwood hath lost more than he can
afford and is somewhat choleric of temper, that is all."</p>
<p>"And in a little quiet game, my good young friend," added Endicott,
also in a whisper, "'tis wisest to take no heed of a loser's vapors."</p>
<p>"I pay ace only!" quoth Segrave triumphantly, who in the meanwhile had
continued the game.</p>
<p>Lord Walterton swore a loud and prolonged oath. He had staked five
guineas on a king and had lost.</p>
<p>"Ventre-saint-gris, and likewise par le sang-bleu!" he said, "the first
time I have had a king! Segrave, ye must leave me these few little
yellow toys, else I cannot pay for my lodgings to-night. . . . I'll give
you a bill . . . but I've had enough of this, by Gad!"</p>
<p>And somewhat sobered, though still unsteady, he rose from the table.</p>
<p>"Surely, my lord, you are not leaving off, too?" asked Segrave.</p>
<p>"Nay! . . . how can I continue?" He turned his breeches pockets
ostentatiously inside out. "Behold, friend, these two beautiful and
innocent little dears!"</p>
<p>"You can give me more bills . . ." urged Segrave, "and you lose . . . you
may not lose after this . . . 'tis lucky to play on credit . . . and . . . and
your bills are always met, my lord . . ."</p>
<p>He spoke with feverish volubility, though his throat was parched and
every word he uttered caused him pain. But he was determined that the
game should proceed.</p>
<p>He had won a little of his own back again the last few rounds.
Certainly his luck would turn once more. His luck <i>must</i> turn once more,
or else . . .</p>
<p>"Nay! nay! I've had enough," said Lord Walterton, nodding a heavy head
up and down, "there are too many of my bills about as it is. . . . I've had
enough."</p>
<p>"Methinks, of a truth," said Lambert decisively, "that the game has
indeed lasted long enough. . . . And if some other gentleman would but take
my place . . ."</p>
<p>He made a movement as if to rise from the table, but was checked by a
harsh laugh and a peremptory word from Segrave.</p>
<p>"Impossible," said the latter, "you, Master Lambert, cannot leave off in
any case. . . . My lord . . . another hand . . ." he urged again.</p>
<p>"Nay! nay! my dear Segrave," replied Lord Walterton, shaking himself
like a sleepy dog, "the game hath ceased to have any pleasure for me, as
our young friend here hath remarked. . . . I wish you good luck . . . and
good-night."</p>
<p>Whereupon he turned on his heel and straddled away to another corner of
the room, away from the temptation of that green-covered table.</p>
<p>"We two then, Master Lambert," said Segrave with ever-growing
excitement, "what say you? Double or quits?"</p>
<p>And he pointed, with that same febrile movement of his, to the heap of
gold standing on the table beside Lambert.</p>
<p>"As you please," replied the latter quietly, as he pushed the entire
pile forward.</p>
<p>Segrave dealt, then turned up his card.</p>
<p>"Ten!" he said curtly.</p>
<p>"Mine is a knave," rejoined Lambert.</p>
<p>"How do we stand?" queried the other, as with a rapid gesture he passed
a trembling hand over his burning forehead.</p>
<p>"Methinks you owe me a hundred pounds," replied Richard, who seemed
strangely calm in the very midst of this inexplicable and volcanic
turmoil which he felt was seething all round him. He had won a hundred
pounds—a fortune in those days for a country lad like himself; but for
the moment the thought of what that hundred pounds would mean to him and
to his brother Adam, was lost in the whirl of excitement which had risen
to his head like wine.</p>
<p>He had steadily refused the glasses of muscadel or sack which Mistress
Endicott had insinuatingly and persistently been offering him, ever
since he began to play; yet he felt intoxicated, with strange currents
of fire which seemed to run through his veins.</p>
<p>The subtle poison had done its work. Any remorse which he may have felt
at first, for thus acting against his own will and better judgment, and
for yielding like a weakling to persuasion, which had no moral rectitude
for basis, was momentarily smothered by the almost childish delight of
winning, of seeing the pile of gold growing in front of him. He had
never handled money before; it was like a fascinating yet insidious toy
which he could not help but finger.</p>
<p>"Are you not playing rather high, gentlemen?" came in dulcet tones from
Mistress Endicott; "I do not allow high play in my house. Master
Lambert, I would fain ask you to cease."</p>
<p>"I am more than ready, madam," said Richard with alacrity.</p>
<p>"Nay! but I am not ready," interposed Segrave vehemently. "Nay! nay!" he
repeated with feverish insistence, "Master Lambert cannot cease playing
now. He is bound in honor to give me a chance for revenge. . . . Double or
quits, Master Lambert! . . . Double or quits?"</p>
<p>"As you please," quoth Lambert imperturbably.</p>
<p>"Ye cannot cut to each other," here interposed Endicott didactically.
"The rules of primero moreover demand that if there are but two players,
a third and disinterested party shall deal the cards."</p>
<p>"Then will you cut and deal, Master Endicott," said Segrave impatiently;
"I care not so long as I can break Master Lambert's luck and redeem mine
own. . . . Double or quits, Master Lambert. . . . Double or quits. . . . I shall
either owe you two hundred pounds or not one penny. . . . In which case we
can make a fresh start. . . ."</p>
<p>Lambert eyed him with curiosity, sympathetically too, for the young man
was in a state of terrible mental agitation, whilst he himself felt
cooler than before.</p>
<p>Endicott dealt each of the two opponents a card face downwards, but even
as he did so, the one which he had dealt to Lambert fluttered to the
ground.</p>
<p>He stooped and picked it up.</p>
<p>Segrave's eyes at the moment were fixed on his own card, Lambert's on
the face of his opponent. No one else in the room was paying any
attention to the play of the two young men, for everyone was busy with
his own affairs. Play was general, the hour late. The wines had been
heady, and all tempers were at fever pitch.</p>
<p>No one, therefore, was watching Endicott's movements at the moment when
he ostensibly stooped to pick up the fallen card.</p>
<p>"It is not faced," he said, "what shall we do?"</p>
<p>"Give it to Master Lambert forsooth," quoth Mistress Endicott, "'tis
unlucky to re-deal . . . providing," she added artfully, "that Master
Segrave hath no objection."</p>
<p>"Nay! nay!" said the latter. "Begad! why should we stop the game for a
trifle?"</p>
<p>Then as Lambert took the card from Endicott and casually glanced at it,
Segrave declared:</p>
<p>"Queen!"</p>
<p>"King!" retorted Lambert, with the same perfect calm. "King of diamonds
. . . that card has been persistently faithful to me to-night."</p>
<p>"The devil himself hath been faithful to you, Master Lambert . . ." said
Segrave tonelessly, "you have the hell's own luck. . . . What do I pay you
now?"</p>
<p>"It was double or quits, Master Segrave," rejoined Lambert, "which
brings it up to two hundred pounds. . . . You will do me the justice to own
that I did not seek this game."</p>
<p>In his heart he had already resolved not to make use of his own
winnings. Somehow as in a flash of intuition he perceived the whole
tragedy of dishonor and of ruin which seemed to be writ on his
opponent's face. He understood that what he had regarded as a
toy—welcome no doubt, but treacherous for all that—was a matter of
life or death—nay! more mayhap to that pallid youth, with the hectic
flush, the unnaturally bright eyes and trembling hands.</p>
<p>There was silence for a while round the green-topped table, whilst
thoughts, feelings, presentiments of very varied kinds congregated
there. With Endicott and his wife, and also with Sir Marmaduke, it was
acute tension, the awful nerve strain of anticipation. The seconds for
them seemed an eternity, the obsession of waiting was like lead on their
brains.</p>
<p>During that moment of acute suspense Richard Lambert was quietly
co-ordinating his thoughts.</p>
<p>With that one mental flash-light which had shown up to him the hitherto
unsuspected tragedy, the latent excitement in him had vanished. He saw
his own weakness in its true light, despised himself for having yielded,
and looked upon the heap of gold before him as so much ill-gotten
wealth, which it would be a delight to restore to the hand from whence
it came.</p>
<p>He heartily pitied the young man before him, and was forming vague
projects of how best to make him understand in private and without
humiliation that the money which he had lost would be returned to him in
full. Strangely enough he was still holding in his hand that king of
diamonds which Endicott had dealt to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
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