Garrick's Pupil Part 6

Oaths and stifled exclamations accompanied the word. Brought to her senses by curiosity and apprehension, Esther opened her eyes and beheld a remarkable spectacle. It was a vast hall lighted by several lamps suspended from the ceiling. The light, gathered by immense reflectors of tin, fell full upon a long table placed in the centre of the apartment.

This table was covered with a green cloth crossed with white lines.

Seven or eight men were seated about it, each one having at his side a bowl full of gold pieces and a small tray bearing a cup of tea, a gla.s.s, and a flask of brandy. They were engaged in a game of faro.

Nothing could have been more singular than their appearance and attire.

Nearly every man wore a large straw hat to screen his eyes from the dazzling light, and perhaps to mask his emotions at the same time; but the most ridiculous part of it was that two or three of the younger gamesters had seen fit to decorate their hats with flowers and ribbons after the fashion of the shepherdesses in the opera. Certain persons, attired with studied refinement, wore leathern cuffs to avoid soiling the lace at their wrists. G.o.d save the mark! They would consent to lose a castle in the course of an evening, but would hesitate to spoil a pair of Chantilly ruffles. Others seemed to have lost all respect for themselves. One young man who sat opposite Esther, a sort of good-natured athlete, with big, sensual jaws, and whose tanned face, especially his brow and glance, shone with intelligence and audacity, was so negligent in his attire that his hairy chest appeared beneath his open shirt. Another, an older man, wore his coat turned inside out, through superst.i.tious fancy, as every one was aware; while more than one, with hands concealed beneath the table, feverishly fingered some sort of talisman.

These men appeared to have heard nothing,--neither the cries of the mob, the invasion of the house, the charge of the Guards, nor the entrance of a strange woman into the very room where they were playing. What mattered it all to them? What did it all amount to in comparison with a doublet? As infatuated as Horace's wise man, the end of the world would not have interrupted their game.

Esther felt that her presence was as unperceived as though a charm had rendered her invisible, like the living being whose terrible fate had conducted him on board of the phantom ship. Therefore without a qualm of fear she permitted herself to enjoy the novel scene.

At this moment the banker's _coteau_ raked in all the stakes, the rare and fortunate result of drawing two similar cards from his right and left.

"Used up!" exclaimed a stout man with a prodigious sigh, his bowl being empty. In the speaker Esther recognized Stephen Fox, whom she had seen at Drury Lane. His brother, Charles James, the eminent orator, the man with the open shirt, gayly smote his shoulder.

"Shylock will make you a loan," he said; "you have more than a pound of flesh to offer him as security!"

Instead of a laugh, Charley's joke was received with a grunt of approbation.

One man alone seemed insensible to the incidents of the game. This was a gentleman of some sixty years, dressed in accordance with the latest Parisian _mode_. In him Esther recognized George Selwyn, who had been one of the most amiable, one of the wittiest men of his time, but was now absorbed and besotted by a pa.s.sion more potent than that of gaming.

Up to this time the actress had not seen the banker, whose back was turned to her and who had not uttered a word. At this moment, however, the following disdainful words escaped him: "Ten thousand pounds, and no more! What a shame that I should have played for such low stakes!"

Esther started at sound of that voice, which she had heard not more than twice, but which she recognized instantly. It was Lord Mowbray, that terrible Mowbray, against whose love she had been warned!

A man entered the room and approached her with a gla.s.s of water in his hand.

"I see that you are better," he said. "Never mind; drink this to secure your recovery."

Esther hesitated. Still fluttered by the discovery which she had just made, she could not but be mindful of Lady Vereker's warning words. How many times had she read in romances and journals strange narratives of young girls being rendered helpless by narcotics! Ought she to drink, to trust this unknown man? She looked at him, and her perplexity increased.

Another enigma to decipher: a generous sentiment pictured upon an evil countenance.

In fact, all the pa.s.sions seemed to have left their trace upon that worn, pallid, haggard face. His age was uncertain, his condition ambiguous; his accent even sounded a note of doubt upon the nationality of the individual, offering no clew. Was he of middle age or old; valet or gentleman; English or a foreigner? One surprising thing was that the hard, bold manner which might well be habitual vanished before an expression of interest which seemed sincere. As he noted the girl's hesitation a trace of sadness pa.s.sed over his coa.r.s.ened features, almost enn.o.bling them.

"I am not thirsty," she said, loath to wound the feelings of one who had already shown her consideration.

And he, regaining his accustomed composure, placed the gla.s.s upon a console.

Softly as Esther had spoken, Lord Mowbray had heard her. He turned and bent his stupefied gaze upon her. Esther, alone, in the torn garments of a serving maid, half fainting, in the card-room of the Brooks Club!

a.s.suredly there was food in plenty for his surprise. What fate had sent his prey into his very clutches? Fortune, it is said, never comes single-handed! After the doublet, this fairest flower! And he was just the man to profit by his luck.

"Gentlemen," he said, rising as he spoke, "circ.u.mstances oblige me to--"

A cry of indignation interrupted his words, while three or four hands were placed upon his shoulders, forcibly obliging him to resume his seat.

"The game is not over." "We won't permit it!" "Wait until you win another ten thousand!" "This is not fair!"

"So be it!" answered Mowbray with a smile; "only permit me to say one word to Lebeau."

The man who had brought the gla.s.s of water approached upon hearing his name, and Lord Mowbray hastily whispered a phrase in a foreign tongue in his ear. Thereupon Lebeau, as we may now call him, returned to the girl.

"The street is free," he said, "but, now that the Guards have pa.s.sed, the disorder may begin again. If you wish to profit by the lull to make your way home, the minutes are precious. Do you feel strong enough to walk?"

"Yes, certainly."

"Then come."

Esther rose and obeyed him, this time without hesitation. The momentary excitement occasioned by the doublet having subsided, the gamblers had remarked her presence. The glances directed towards her betrayed their curiosity. Despite her disguise, she might be recognized; consequently the necessity of escaping as speedily as possible presented itself. But she did not forget that Lebeau was her guide, the accursed mentor of the greatest libertine in England. The young lord had whispered to his former tutor; evidently the hurried words had reference to her.

Therefore she saw the necessity of being upon her guard, ready to fly at the slightest suspicious movement. Meanwhile her heart beat with fear, curiosity and, perhaps, with delight; for it must be admitted that she adored an adventure.

So they went out. The din of the riot came to them from a distance. The street was empty; the night was beautiful and calm. The lights in the lanterns were flickering in their sconces and expiring. The minister's house with its broken windows was guarded by soldiery.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Preceded by a page who carried a torch, Lebeau took the way towards Westminster. It seemed marvellous that he should know so well the location of Miss Woodville's abode.

"Will it please you to give me your arm?" he asked in a slightly changed, humble tone.

She pa.s.sed her arm within his. Lebeau quickly drew his c.o.c.ked hat down over his eyes to conceal his glance, and sustained the young girl with an almost tender solicitude, but with discretion and respect.

Thus they walked some distance in silence. At last he began:--

"You distrusted me at first."

She tried to protest, but he added:--

"Oh, you were quite right. Be on your guard. Life is full of snares. I have an intimate acquaintance with my brother man, and I find him bad."

Was he speaking of mankind in general, or of some one in particular?

Esther was upon the point of inquiring when they halted in Tothill Street before a low door, upon which Lebeau knocked loudly.

"Some one is coming," he said; "I hear steps in the garden. You have escaped a menacing danger. I do not speak of being crushed beneath the hoofs of the horses; that would be as nothing compared with the other.

You are saved, but the peril may threaten you again at any moment.

However, it does not signify. _You are in my care._"

With these words he turned upon his heel and vanished just as the door was thrown open. Esther found herself confronted by the more severe than anxious face of her cousin Reuben. With his youthful air, his light, fluffy hair and sombre eyes, he resembled one of those avenging angels whom the Lord sent to the guilty cities to p.r.o.nounce their doom when the hour of repentance had pa.s.sed and that of retribution had sounded.

"At last!" he muttered in a bitter tone.

"Were you alarmed about me? Has not a man been sent here with a message from Lady Vereker?"

"Yes," answered Reuben with a derisive sneer; "that woman, whose very name is a reproach and a scandal, has had the goodness to a.s.sure us that you were in her charge. A strange guardian! Daniel was safer in the lions' den than Esther Woodville under Lady Vereker's wing!"

"You have no idea what has happened? All London is insane over Rodney's victory. They are fighting and breaking windows; the streets are full of soldiers."

"But what means this disguise?"

"I swear to you it was the only means of pa.s.sing through the crowds."