The Nest of the Sparrowhawk Part 21

And Lambert, with a self-deprecatory sigh, and a shrug of the shoulders, said quietly:

"I have no option, gracious mistress!"

CHAPTER XVIII

THE TRAP

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.

"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."

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.

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 h.o.a.rd was about to be put.

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.

"Will one of you gentlemen teach me the game?" he asked simply.

It was remarkable that no one sneered at him again, and in these days of arrogance peculiar to the upper cla.s.ses this was all the more noticeable, as these secret clubs were thought to be very exclusive, the resort pre-eminently of gentlemen and n.o.blemen who were anti-Puritan, anti-Republican, and very jealous of their ranks and privileges.

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.

His own state of mind was very remarkable at the moment.

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.

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.

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 grat.i.tude to Sir Marmaduke de Chava.s.se.

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.

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.

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.

He shuffled the cards and dealt just as Endicott had done.

"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!"

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.

Five golden guineas rested on Lambert's card. Segrave turned up his own and declared:

"I pay queen and upwards!"

"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?"

"And look at this nine," quoth Sir Michael, who had become very sullen; "not a card to-night!"

"I have a king," said Lambert quietly.

"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 h.o.a.rd, "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...."

"The game doth not appear to be vastly complicated," a.s.sented Lambert lightly.

"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!"

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.

But the G.o.ddess 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.

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.

"'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."

"'Tis not unpleasant to win," rejoined Lambert lightly, "but believe me, sir, the game itself gives me no pleasure."

"I pay knave and upwards," declared Segrave in a dry and hollow voice, and with burning eyes fixed upon his new and formidable opponent.

"My last sovereign, par Dieu!" swore Lord Walterton, throwing the money across to Segrave with an unsteady hand.

"And one of my last," said Sir Michael, as he followed suit.

"And what is your stake, Master Lambert?" queried Segrave.

"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."

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.

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.

"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.

"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 _this_ sort of game!"

"What do you mean?" queried Segrave hotly.

"Oh, nothing," rejoined the other dryly, "you need not heed my remark.

Are you not losing, too?"