The White Lie Part 31

Entering the casino, they had a drink together, then smoked and chatted.

Ansell was half inclined to tell a tale and borrow a "fiver," but so clever was he that he feared lest the young fellow might speak of it in Trouville. Therefore he stood at the bar laughing merrily, as was his wont, and keeping a watchful eye upon any man who entered. He could fascinate other men by cheery good humour, his disregard for worry, his amusing optimism, and his brightness of conversation.

His training as a crook had surely been in a good school, yet there were times when, before his vision, arose the face of the true, honest girl whom he had married, and whom he had so cruelly treated. Sometimes, just as at that hour when he stood at the bar of the great gilded casino, laughing gaily, he would reflect upon his married life, and wonder where Jean was and how she fared.

The young Englishman, Baldwin by name, was spending the season at Trouville with his mother, who rented a pretty villa in the vicinity, and he, being on leave, was idling amid the mad gaiety of Paris-by-the-Sea.

He was much taken by the manners and airy talk of the rich American, whom he found much less vulgar than many he had met in London society.

He made no ostentatious show, though it was whispered throughout Trouville that he was one of the wealthiest men in Wall Street. What would young Baldwin have thought if he had seen those three precious louis?

Until five o'clock Ansell chatted and smoked with him, all the time his brain busy to invent some fresh scheme to obtain funds. Then, punctually at five, he took leave of his friend, and entering a _fiacre_, drove along to Deauville, that fashionable village of smart villas, with its big, white casino and its quaintly built but extremely select Hotel Normandie.

At the latter he descended and, entering, pa.s.sed through the big lounge where the elegant world and the more elegant half world were chattering and taking their tea after the races. He knew the big hotel well, and many men and women glanced up and remarked as he pa.s.sed, for Silas P.

Hoggan had already established a reputation.

Finding n.o.body to speak to, he took a seat in a corner, drank tea because it was the correct thing to do, smoked a cigarette, and became horribly bored.

Those who saw him reflected upon the great burden which huge wealth as his must be, little dreaming that, after all, he was but a blackmailer and an ingenious swindler.

Presently he looked in at the casino, where he found a French Baron whom he knew, and then, after a further hour in the _cafe_, he returned to his hotel in Trouville, where he dressed carefully and later on appeared at dinner.

Whenever funds were especially low, Ralph Ansell always made it a rule to order an expensive dinner. It preserved the illusion that he was wealthy. He was especially fond of Russian Bortch soup, and this having been ordered, it was served with great ceremony, a large piece of cream being placed in the centre of the rich, brown liquid.

The dinner he ate that night was a.s.suredly hardly in keeping with the ugly fact that, within the next four days, if funds were not forthcoming, he would find himself outside the hotel without his newly-acquired luggage.

Truly his luck was clean out.

After dinner he sat outside the hotel for an hour, watching people pa.s.s up and down the _plage_. The evening was close, and the sand reflected back the hot rays of the sun absorbed during the day.

He was thinking. Only those three louis remained between him and starvation. He must get money somehow--by what means it mattered not, so long as he got it.

Suddenly, with a resolve, he rose and, pa.s.sing along the _plage_, arrived at a large, white house overlooking the sea, where, on the second floor, he entered a luxuriously-furnished suite of rooms where roulette was in full swing.

Many smartly-dressed men and women were playing around the green table--some winning, some losing heavily.

The room, filled to overflowing, was almost suffocating, while, combined with the chatter of women and the lower voices of men, was the distinctive sound of the clink of gold as the croupier raked it in or paid it out.

To several acquaintances Ralph nodded merrily as he strolled through the room, until suddenly he came upon two men, wealthy he knew them to be, with whom he had played cards on the previous night.

"Ah, messieurs!" he cried, greeting them merrily. "Are you prepared to give me my revenge--eh?"

"Quite, m'sieur," was the reply of the elder of the men. "Shall it be in the next room? There is a table free."

"At your pleasure," was "The American's" reply. The man who had proved so shrewd on the previous night was absent, but the two other men were, he knew, somewhat inexperienced at cards.

They pa.s.sed into the adjoining room and there sat down, a stranger joining them. Others were playing in the same room, including at least a couple of "crooks" well known to Ansell--one man an elegantly-dressed Italian and the other a Spaniard. The summer resorts of Europe prove the happy hunting-ground for the knights of industry.

The cards were dealt, and the game played.

At the first _coup_ Ralph Ansell won three hundred francs, though he played fairly. Again and again he won. His luck had returned.

In half an hour he had before him a pile of notes and gold representing about three hundred pounds.

His face, however, was sphinx-like. Inveterate gambler that he was, he never allowed his countenance to betray his emotion. Inwardly, however, he was elated at his success, and when the stranger, a middle-aged Russian Baron, proposed to stake an amount equal to his winnings, he quickly welcomed the proposal.

In an instant he was on the alert. Now was the moment to perform one of his clever card-sharping tricks, the trick by which he had so often won big sums from the unsuspecting.

He placed two one-hundred franc notes aside in case he should lose; then the cards were dealt, and the game played.

Only at that moment did the "crook" realise what an astute player the stranger was.

He tried to cheat, and, though he performed the trick, nevertheless his opponent actually beat him.

He bit his lip in anger.

Then, pushing the money across to the Baron, he rose from the table and bade his companions good-night, though the sun was beginning to shine in between the drawn curtains of the stuffy room.

CHAPTER XXII.

DISCLOSES A SCHEME.

At noon next day, while Ansell was lying lazily in bed in the Palace Hotel reading the _Matin_, a page entered with a letter.

He tore it open, and found that it was dated from the railway buffet at Calais-Maritime, and read:

"DEAR RALPH,--Impossible to send oof. Lady Michelcoombe squeezed dry. Husband knows. So lie low.--TED."

He crushed the letter in his hand with an imprecation. His mine of wealth had suddenly become exhausted.

From the address it was plain that Ted Patten was flying from England.

Lord Michelcoombe had discovered the truth. Probably his wife had confessed, and explained how she had been trapped and money extracted from her. Well he knew that the penalty for his offence was twenty years' penal servitude.

It was all very well for Ted to advise him to "lie low," but that was impossible without ample funds. The "crook" who is big enough to effect a big _coup_ can go into safe retirement for years if necessary. But to the man who is penniless that is impossible.

He rose and dressed even more carefully than usual. Afterwards he took his _dejeuner_ in the big _salle-a-manger_ and drank half a bottle of Krug with it. Like all men of his cla.s.s, he was fastidious over his food and wines. The afternoon he spent idling in the casino, and that night he again visited the private gaming house with his two hundred francs, or eight pounds, in his pocket.

It proved a gay night, for there was a dance in progress. In the card-room, however, all was quiet, and there he again met the Russian, who, however, was playing with three other men, strangers to him.

After he had critically inspected the company, he at length accepted the invitation of a man he did not know to sit down to a friendly hand. In those rooms he was believed to be the wealthy American, as he represented himself to be.

The men he found himself playing with were Frenchmen, and very soon, by dint of "working the trick," he succeeded in swindling them out of about fifty pounds.

Then suddenly his luck turned dead against him. In three _coups_ he lost everything, except two coins he had kept in his pocket.