The Enemies of Women Part 25

"A _louis_, Prince," murmured the most daring. "I am sure that you will bring me luck." As she spoke, her false teeth, too large for her gums, rattled; a stench of the grave accompanied the smile on the painted lips.

Michael knew who they were, from Toledo's tales. The Colonel, as an admirer of fallen royalty, accepted their conversation with melancholy deference. One of them had been a sweetheart of Victor Emanuel; another, who was older, recalled, with sighs, the days of Napoleon III, and of Morny.

They had come to die in Monte Carlo, the last spot on earth able to remind them of the splendors of sixty years before; some of them, in memory of their vanished jewels, calmly displayed bra.s.s ornaments and beads of gla.s.s. According to a paradox of Castro's, they had died many years before, spending the night in the Monaco Cemetery dressing themselves with the spoils from other corpses and coming to the Casino from force of habit to contemplate once more the scenes of their remote youth. The Prince gave them a few bank notes and went out, while they ran to gamble this money, after having thanked him for the gift, with a death-head grin that was the last remnant of their former professional charm.

Suddenly Michael stopped, observing the various parasites who lived by clinging to the gearing of the terrible machine and feeding on the crumbs it pulverized. He became interested in the crowd which was always apparently the same, though always with distinct individuals. There were some who walked along leaning on canes, invalids' canes tipped with rubber--the only kind allowed in the gaming room for fear of quarrels.

He noticed flaccid old women slowly hobbling along, paralytic gentlemen leaning on the arm of tall, robust fellows in braided uniforms who led them in a fatherly fashion toward the roulette wheels and eased them into their chairs. A few paralytics arrived at the foot of the stairway in little carriages like children's carts, and thence were carried on hand chairs through the rooms to their favorite spot. At certain moments it seemed as though the gambling hall were a famous health resort, or a place of miracles, like Lourdes. They came just as incurable invalids come to other places, impelled by a last hope; but in this case the hope was not for health. That was the least of their cares. What galvanized them here was the hope of fortune, and dreams of wealth, as if riches would be of any service to these poor bodies lacking all the appet.i.tes which make life pleasant.

Mentally the Prince summed up all human pa.s.sions in two pleasures which are the springs of all action--love and gambling. There were people who experienced equally the attraction of them both--Castro, for example. He himself had been interested only in love and could not understand the pleasures of gambling. Whenever he had gotten up from the gaming tables, each time with winnings, he had never felt any temptation to return. But looking at these ailing people, some of them very aged, at those incurables, all of them dragging themselves toward the roulette wheel as though toward a miraculous bath, he condoned them pityingly. What other pleasure was there left for them on earth? How could they fill the emptiness of their lives prolonged so tenaciously?

What he could not understand was the intense att.i.tude, the hard faces, of the other gamblers who were healthy and strong. Young men moved among the women around the tables with hostile brusqueness, quarrelling with them harshly and treating them like enemies. Women suddenly lost their grace and freshness, becoming masculine all at once as they looked at the rows of cards of _trente et quarante_ or at the mad whirl of the colored wheel. Their gestures were those of prize fighters. Their mouths were drawn. There was a look of fierceness in their eyes. As though warned instinctively of this transformation, no sooner did they tear themselves away from the tables than they took out their vanity case--the little mirror, the powder, and the rouge--to correct or efface the pa.s.sing ravages of the play. Those of more dignified and normal appearance showed themselves at times to be the most reckless. In a place where all the women were doing the same as they, gambling had something official about it, something worthy of respect; it was possible for them to indulge in a vice without fear of gossip, without the risk of being criticized.

The Prince smiled as he remembered a story Toledo had told him a few days before: the despair of a woman of about forty who came from Nice with her two daughters every afternoon, and had finally lost fifty thousand francs.

"Oh! If I had only taken a lover," the mother had groaned with tears in her eyes. "It would have been better if I had chosen love."

Michael entered the other rooms that had no skylight. The cl.u.s.ters of electric bulbs lighting them with senseless splendor made him think of the burning sun and the azure sea just beyond those walls of gold and jasper.

Above the tables were oil lamps with two enormous shades each one sheltering four fixtures which hung by bronze chains several yards long, attached to the ceiling. Thus if the electric current was cut off, there was no danger of the patrons feeling tempted to appropriate the money on the tables.

Occasionally a little bell would sound, rung by one of the employees in black frock coat who directed the playing. A chip, a coin, or a bank note had fallen under the table. Suddenly with the promptness of a scene shifter waiting behind the stage, a lackey dressed in a blue and gold uniform appeared, carrying a dark lantern and a hook to rummage about among the players' feet until he found the lost object.

The discipline observable in these vast rooms was like that on a warship, where everything is in its place and every man at his post. In order to make sure that everything was going properly, various respectable gentlemen with decorations on their coat lapels, walked back and forth among the tables, with the air of officers on duty. Whenever voices were raised, these men appeared with rapid strides, to cut short the arguments in some tactful manner. When two gamblers claimed the same bet, they immediately settled the dispute by paying both. The money would finally come back to the house any way!

According to Atilio, the Casino was honeycombed in all directions with secret galleries, hidden openings and even trap doors, like the stage for a comedy of magic--all these for the sake of immediate service, and to avoid any annoyance to the patrons.

Sometimes the invalid fainted at the table or fell dead through too violent emotion. Immediately the wall would open and eject two attendants with a stretcher who would cause the troublesome body to disappear as though by enchantment. Those at the adjoining table would scarcely have a chance to be aware of it.

At other times it would be a suicide. Lubimoff knew a table called the Suicide Table, because an Englishman had killed himself there in melodramatic fashion, shooting himself with a pistol when he had lost his last penny. His brains had been scattered in shreds on the green baize and on the faces of his neighbors, and even on the frock coats of the _croupiers_. There are always people who have no tact, and who do not know how to behave in good society! But the attendants emerged from the wall, carried away the corpse, and cleaned the blood from the carpet and table.

Shortly afterwards, from the oval of people crowding against the green table, the consecrated words arose: "_Faites vos jeux.... Vos jeux sont faits?... Rien ne va plus._"

The Prince recalled the famous suicide bench in the gardens of the Casino. It was all a magazine yarn. No such bench had ever existed. When several persons killed themselves on the same bench, the administration had its position changed immediately! Besides, the number of suicides was much exaggerated. There were two or three each year, no more.

According to Castro, it was no longer the fad to kill one's self at Monte Carlo. It showed an unpardonable lack of taste. The proper thing to do was to go a long way off and disappear without making any commotion.

Besides the house police were quick to detect those who were in despair.

Such people received a railway ticket at once and they were advised to kill themselves, like good fellows, in Ma.r.s.eilles, or if not so far away, at least in Nice or Menton.

Michael was near the "Suicide Table" close to the entrance to the private rooms, when he noticed a certain commotion in the crowd. Groups were seeking one another to exchange news. The old patrons were moved by professional feeling. Something important was going on. The Prince knew the meaning of these sudden bursts of curiosity: a player was winning or losing in remarkable fashion.

He heard indistinctly a name that brought him to attention.

"The d.u.c.h.ess de Delille--two hundred thousand francs!"

All those who had permission to play in the private rooms hurried toward the large gla.s.s door which gave access to them. Michael followed this living current.

He found himself in an enormous hall with a lofty ceiling. On one side four large balconies opened out on the terraces, and the Mediterranean.

Because of the war they were covered with dark curtains to hide the light from within. The wall opposite was adorned with various gigantic mirrors. On the ceiling seventeen white, full-breasted caryatids, bending under the weight of the roof, supported the wide bands of rock crystal, with electrical bulbs, which shed a sort of moonlight.

Those whom curiosity had attracted, pa.s.sed the first gaming tables with an air of indifference. Everybody was crowding around the last, the "_trente et quarante_," at the foot of a large picture, in which three buxom la.s.ses in the nude against a background of dark trees like those in the Boboli Gardens, represented the _Florentine Graces_.

The great phenomenon was taking place there. Craning his neck above the shoulders of two sightseers, Michael caught a glimpse of Alicia seated at the table with an anxious expression on her face. All eyes were upon her. In front of her, were heaps of bank notes and many columns of chips. There were the five hundred franc ovals, and the one thousand franc squares, "little cakes of soap" as they call the latter, in the language of the Casino.

Suddenly she raised her head as though realizing instinctively the presence of some one interesting to her. And her eyes fell straight on Michael. She greeted him with a happy smile. There was the suggestion of a kiss in her glance. And all the people there, with the submission of a mob when dominated by enthusiasm or amazement, followed her eyes to see who the man was whom the heroine was greeting in this manner. The vanity of the Prince was flattered, as it used to be when some celebrated actress greeted him from the stage and went on singing with her eyes fastened upon him to dedicate to him her trills. Once, when he was a boy, a bull-fighter had bowed to him in a friendly way before giving the final death thrust in the arena. Alicia seemed to be choosing him as her G.o.d of luck.

But immediately she fell back into the deep absorption of the play. She was not alone. An invisible and powerful person was standing behind her chair, bending over her to whisper in her ear some word of unfailing counsel, to suggest some unlooked for resolution, some original and daring idea. Her eyes, lighted by a mysterious fire, were gazing on something that no one else could see. Her mute lips trembled with nervous contractions, as though she were talking with some one who did not need sound to be able to hear. Michael felt there was a demon-like power beside her, the inspiration of the unforgettable hours which reveal to artists a masterful harmony, an illuminating word, or a supreme stroke of the brush; the inspiration which prompts the final slaughter in battle or the decisive move in some business venture, that means either millions or suicide.

She had begun to plunge. Her hand carelessly pushed forward a column of twelve rectangular chips, with an extra oval one: twelve thousand five hundred francs, the maximum amount that could be risked in "_trente et quarante_." The crowd, with the idolatry which victors inspire, was hoping for the d.u.c.h.ess, as though each one expected to share in her winning. They all knew she was going to win. And when as a matter of fact she did win, there was a murmur of satisfaction, a sigh of relief from that oval of sightseers pressing against the backs of the chairs occupied by the players. From time to time she lost, and profound silence expressed their sympathy. Sometimes after advancing a column of chips, she closed her eyes as though listening to some one who remained invisible, and moving her head in sign of a.s.sent, withdrew the stakes.

Once more there arose a murmur of satisfaction, when the public saw that she had withdrawn her money just in time, and had scored, as it were, a negative triumph.

Many of them computed with greedy eyes the sums ama.s.sed in front of her.

"She's in the three hundred thousands already--perhaps she has more--Oh!

if she would only succeed in making it millions! What fun it would be to see her break the bank!"

To these comments spoken in low tones were added the laudatory exclamations of a few elderly women who looked at the conqueror with adoring eyes. "How nice she is!--a great lady and so beautiful!--Good luck to her!"

A dark shoulder over which the Prince was looking moved and the Prince saw Spadoni's face close to his. The pianist did not show the slightest surprise; as though they had separated only a few minutes before. He did not even greet Michael. The astonishment which caused the pupils of his eyes to dilate, the indignation and envy that this insolent fortune inspired, made it necessary for the pianist to express his feelings in a protest.

"Have you noticed, Highness--she doesn't know how to play--she goes against all rules, all logic. She doesn't know the first thing about it, not the first thing!"

Immediately his eyes returned to the table, forgetting the Prince on hearing once more a stifled outburst from the crowd. A little more and some of the people would be applauding the repeated triumphs of the d.u.c.h.ess. Those who had lost during the previous days, were rejoicing with the joy of vengeance. "What an evening! You don't see this every day." They smiled and nudged each other as they noticed the coming and going of the inspectors, the presence of high officials who strove to hide their concern, the long faces of attendants as they returned from the head cashier with new packages of one thousand franc chips to pay this lady who had swept the table bare of money three times. The news of her extraordinary run of luck circulated throughout the entire edifice.

At that moment the gentlemen of the management must have been discussing in their offices on the top floor the bad trick that chance had dared to play them. A mood of antic.i.p.ation and excitement, akin to the whispering of a revolution, spread through every nook and cranny. Those who had no tickets for the private rooms asked for news from those who were coming out, repeating what they had heard with exaggeration born of enthusiasm.

In the wardrobe, in the lavatories, in the inner corridors, in all the subterranean and winding pa.s.sageways where the servants, maids and firemen lived under an eternal electric light, this news shook the sleepy calm of the humbler employees. The atmosphere of excitement was similar to that which circulates through the half deserted corridors of the Chamber of Deputies while in the semi-circle teeming with emotion, a Prime Minister is fighting to survive a crisis. The news gathered momentum as it pa.s.sed from group to group with that satisfaction mingled with uneasiness which is inspired in employees by the reverses of their employers.

"It seems that upstairs a d.u.c.h.ess is winning a million--no: now they say it is two millions."

And by the time the news had circulated throughout the entire building, the two millions had married and given birth to another. Half an hour later they were four millions, according to the lesser servants, who had grown old living off gambling without ever seeing it at first hand.

Michael suddenly felt a great wave of anger against the fortunate woman.

Since her smile of greeting she had not looked at him again. Several times her eyes had glanced mechanically in his direction, without taking any notice of him. He was merely one of the many curious spectators witnessing her triumph. At that moment there were only two things in the world, the pack of cards and herself.

Her indifference caused him to feel the indignation of the moralist. It did not make any difference to him that Alicia was forgetting him. He repeated this to himself several times: no, he did not care about that.

They were not lovers, nor was there any deep affection between them. But how about her son! He remembered that morning a scene with her tears and despair. And the mother was there abandoning herself completely to the pleasures of chance and with no feeling for anything except her perverted pa.s.sion.

If some one had spoken to her about the aviator who was a prisoner, she would have had to make an effort to recall his existence. And a few hours before she had wept sincerely on thinking of his imprisonment!

This was too much for the Prince. His sense of dignity could not accept this thoughtlessness! He elbowed his way through a crowd of onlookers, after freeing himself from Spadoni's shoulder, while the latter as though hypnotized, remained with his eyes fixed on the ever-increasing treasure of the d.u.c.h.ess.

Lubimoff began to pace the drawing room. He scorned Alicia's self-absorption, but lacked the strength to go away. It was necessary for him to be near her, perhaps in order to see just how far her slight of him would go.

He came across a gentleman who was walking about among the tables, beating his hands behind his back and muttering unintelligible words. It was his friend Lewis.

"Have you seen how she plays," he said in a tone of anger, as he recognized the Prince; "like a fool, like a regular fool! They ought not to allow women in here."

All afternoon he had been losing according to rule and experience. He did not have enough money left even for his whiskies and had had to charge them at the bar. But suddenly he remembered that the d.u.c.h.ess was a relative of Lubimoff.

"I am sorry if I offended you, but she plays like an idiot."