The Chink in the Armour Read online

  CHAPTER XII

  A couple of hours later Sylvia and Count Paul parted at the door of theCasino. He held her hand longer than was usual with him when bidding hergood-night; then, dropping it, he lifted his hat and hurried off towardsthe station.

  Sylvia stood in the dusk and looked after him till a turn in the shortroad hid his hurrying figure from her sight.

  She felt very much moved, touched to the core of her heart. She knew justas well as if he had told her why the Comte de Virieu had given up hisevening's play to-night. He had left Lacville, and arranged to meet herin Paris the next day, in order that their names might not be coupled--aswould have certainly been the case if they had travelled together intoParis the next morning--by M. Polperro and the good-natured, but rathervulgar Wachners.

  As she turned and walked slowly through the Casino, moving as in a dream,Sylvia suddenly felt herself smartly tapped on the shoulder.

  She turned round quickly--then she smiled. It was Madame Wachner.

  "Why 'ave you not come before?" her friend exclaimed. "Madame Wolskyis making such a sensation! Come quick--quick!" and she hurried theunresisting Sylvia towards the Club rooms. "I come downstairs to see ifI could find you," went on Madame Wachner breathlessly.

  What could be happening? Sylvia felt the other's excitement to becontagious. As she entered the gambling room she saw that a large crowdwas gathered round the centre Baccarat table.

  "A party of young men out from Paris," explained Madame Wachner in a lowtone, "are throwing about their money. It might have been terrible. Butno, it is a great piece of good fortune for Madame Wolsky!"

  And still Sylvia did not understand.

  They walked together up to the table, and then, with amazement and acurious feeling of fear clutching at her heart, Sylvia Bailey saw thatAnna Wolsky was holding the Bank.

  It was the first time she had ever seen a lady in the Banker's seat.

  A thick bundle of notes, on which were arranged symmetrical piles of goldlay in front of Madame Wolsky, and as was always the case when she wasreally excited, Anna's face had become very pale, and her eyes glistenedfeverishly.

  The play, too, was much higher than usual. This was owing to the factthat at one end of the table there stood a little group of five young menin evening dress. They talked and laughed as they flung their money onthe green cloth, and seemed to enjoy the fact that they were the centreof attraction.

  "One of them," whispered Madame Wachner eagerly, "had already lost eightthousand francs when I went downstairs to look for you! See, they arestill losing. Our friend has the devil's own luck to-night! I haveforbidden L'Ami Fritz to play at all. Nothing can stand against her. Shesweeps the money up every time. If Fritz likes, he can go downstairs tothe lower room and play."

  But before doing so L'Ami Fritz lingered awhile, watching Madame Wolsky'swonderful run of luck with an expression of painful envy and greed on hiswolfish countenance.

  Sylvia went round to a point where she could watch Anna's face. To astranger Madame Wolsky might have appeared almost indifferent; but therehad come two spots of red on her cheeks, and the hand with which sheraked up the money trembled.

  The words rang out, "_Faites vos jeux, Messieurs, Mesdames._" Then, "_Lejeu est fait! Rien ne va plus!_"

  The luck suddenly turned against Anna. She looked up, and found Sylvia'seyes fixed on her. She made a slight motion, as if she wished her friendto go away.

  Sylvia slipped back, and walked quietly round the table. Then she stoodbehind Anna, and once more the luck came back, and the lady banker's pileof notes and gold grew higher and higher....

  "This is the first time a woman has held the Bank this month," Sylviaheard someone say.

  And then there came an answer, "Yes, and it is by far the best Bank wehave had this month--in fact, it's the best play we've had this season!"

  At last Anna pushed away her chair and got up.

  One of the young men who had lost a good deal of money came up to her andsaid smilingly.

  "I hope, Madame, you are not going away. I propose now to take the Bank;surely, you will allow me to have my revenge?"

  Anna Wolsky laughed.

  "Certainly!" she answered. "I propose to go on playing for some timelonger."

  He took the Banker's seat, and the crowd dispersed to the other tables.L'Ami Fritz slipped away downstairs, but his wife stayed on in the Clubby Sylvia's side.

  Soon the table was as much surrounded as before, for Anna was againwinning. She had won as banker, now she won as simple player, and allthose about her began to "follow her luck" with excellent results tothemselves.

  The scene reminded Sylvia of that first evening at the Casino. It wasonly three weeks ago, and yet how full, how crowded the time had been!

  Somehow to-night she did not feel inclined to play. To her surprise andamusement she saw Madame Wachner actually risk a twenty-franc piece. Amoment later the stake was doubled, and soon the good lady had won ninegold pieces. Her face flushed with joy like a happy child's.

  "Oh, why is not Fritz here?" she exclaimed. "How sorry I am I sent himdownstairs! But, never mind, his old wife is making some money for once!"

  At last the Banker rose from the table. He was pretty well cleared out.Smiling and bowing to Anna, he said, "Well, Madame, I congratulate you!You must have a very powerful mascot."

  Anna shook her head gaily.

  "It is pleasant to win from a millionaire," she whispered to Sylvia, "forone knows it does not hurt him! That young man has a share in the profiton every piece of sugar sold in France, and you know how fond the Frenchare of sweet things!"

  She turned from the table, followed by Sylvia and Madame Wachner.

  "What will you do with all your money?" asked Madame Wachner anxiously.

  "I told one of the ushers to have it all turned into notes for me," sheanswered indifferently. "As to what I shall do with it!--well, I supposeI shall have to go into Paris and bank some of it in a day or two. Ishan't play to-morrow. I shall take a rest--I deserve a rest!" She lookedextraordinarily excited and happy.

  "Shall we drop you at the Pension Malfait?" said Madame Wachner amiably."It is right on our way home, you know. I, too, have made money--" shechuckled joyously.

  Madame Wachner left the two friends standing in the hall while she wentto look for her husband in the public gambling room, and as they stoodthere Sylvia became conscious that they were being stared at with a greatdeal of interest and curiosity. The news of Anna Wolsky's extraordinarygood luck had evidently spread.

  "I wish I had come in a little earlier," said Sylvia presently. "I'venever seen you take the Bank before. Surely this is the first time youhave done so?"

  "Yes, this is the first time I have ever been tempted to take the Bank atLacville. But somehow I suddenly felt as if I should be lucky to-night.You see, I've made a good deal of money the last day or two, and MadameWachner persuaded me to try my luck."

  "I wish you had told me you were thinking of taking the Bank."

  "I would have told you," said Anna quietly, "if I had seen you to-day.But I have been seeing very little of you lately, Sylvia. Why, you aremore with Madame Wachner than with me!"

  She did not speak unkindly, but Sylvia felt a pang of remorse. She hadindeed seen very little of Anna Wolsky during the last few days, but thatwas not because she had been with Madame Wachner.

  "I will come and see you for a little while to-night," she saidimpetuously, "for I am going to spend to-morrow in Paris--with a friendwho is there just now--"

  She hurried out the half-truth with a curious feeling of guilt.

  "Yes, do come!" cried Anna eagerly. "You can stay with me while thecarriage takes the Wachners on home, and then it can call for you on theway back. I should not like you to walk to the Villa du Lac alone at thistime of night."

  "Ah, but I'm not like you; I haven't won piles of money!" said Sylvia,smiling.

  "No, but that makes very little difference in a place like this--"

  And then Mo
nsieur and Madame Wachner joined them. L'Ami Fritz lookedquite moved out of himself. He seized Anna by the hand. "I congratulateyou!" he said heartily. "What a splendid thing to go on winning likethat. I wish I had been there, for I might have followed your luck!"

  They all four walked out of the Casino. It was a very dark night.

  "And what will you do with all that money?" Monsieur Wachner solicitouslyinquired. "It is a great sum to carry about, is it not?"

  "It is far better to carry about one's money than to trust it to anyonebut to a well-managed bank," exclaimed his wife, before Anna could answerthe question. "As for the hotel-keepers, I would not trust them with onepenny. What happened to a friend of ours, eh, Fritz, tell them that?"

  They were now packed into an open carriage, and driving towards thePension Malfait.

  "I don't know what you are talking about," said her husband, crossly.

  "Yes, you do! That friend of ours who was boarding in one of those smallhouses in the Condamine at Monte Carlo, and who one day won a lot ofmoney. He gave his winnings to his hotel-keeper to keep for the night.Next day the man said his safe had been broken open by a foreign waiterwho had disappeared. Our friend had no redress--none at all! Malfait maybe a very good sort of man, but I would not give him your money--" sheturned to Anna.

  "No, of course not," said Madame Wolsky. "I should never think ofentrusting a really large sum of money to a man of whom I know nothing.It is, as you say, very much better to keep one's money on one's person.It's the plan I've always followed. Then, if it is stolen, or if oneloses it, one has only oneself to blame."

  "It is very exciting taking the Bank," she added, after a pause. "I thinkI shall take the Bank again next time I play."

  The short drive was soon over, and as Anna and Sylvia were going into thePension Malfait, Madame Wachner called out, "Will you both come to supperto-morrow?"

  Sylvia shook her head.

  "I am going into Paris for the day," she said, "and I shall feel tiredwhen I get back. But many thanks, all the same."

  "Then _you_ must come"--Madame Wachner addressed Anna Wolsky. "We alsowill have a rest from the Casino."

  "Very well! I accept gratefully your kind invitation."

  "Come early. Come at six, and we can 'ave a cosy chat first."

  "Yes, I will!"

  After giving directions that they were to be told when the carriage hadcome back from the Chalet des Muguets, the two friends went up to AnnaWolsky's bed-room.

  Sylvia sat down by the open window.

  "You need not light a candle, Anna," she said. "It's so pleasant justnow, so quiet and cool, and the light would only attract those horridmidges. They seem to me the only things I have to find fault with inLacville!"

  Anna Wolsky came and sat down in the darkness close to the younger woman.

  "Sylvia," she said, "dear little Sylvia! Sometimes I feel uneasy athaving brought you to Lacville." She spoke in a thoughtful and veryserious tone.

  "Indeed, you need feel nothing of the kind."

  Sylvia Bailey put out her hand and took the other woman's hand in herown. She knew in her heart what Anna meant, but she wilfully pretended tomisunderstand her.

  "You need never think that I run the slightest risk of becoming agambler," she went on, a little breathlessly. "I was looking at myaccount-book to-day, and I find that since I have been here I have lostseventy francs. Two days ago I had won a hundred and ten francs. So yousee it is not a very serious matter, is it? Just think of all the funI've had! It's well worth the money I've lost. Besides, I shall probablywin it all back--"

  "I was not thinking of the money," said Anna Wolsky slowly.

  Sylvia made a restless movement, and took her hand out of Anna'saffectionate clasp.

  "I'm afraid that you are becoming very fond of the Comte de Virieu," wenton Anna, in a low voice but very deliberately. "You must forgive me,Sylvia, but I am older than you are. Have you thought of the consequencesof this friendship of yours? I confess that at the beginning I creditedthat man with the worst of motives, but now I feel afraid that he is inlove--in fact I feel sure that he is madly in love with you. Do you knowthat he never takes his eyes off you in the Club? Often he forgets topick up his winnings...."

  Sylvia's heart began to beat. She wondered if Anna was indeed tellingthe truth. She almost bent forward and kissed her friend in hergratitude--but all she said was, and that defiantly,

  "You can believe me when I say that he has never said a word of love tome. He has never even flirted with me. I give you my word that that isso!"

  "Ah, but it is just that fact that makes me believe that he cares.Flirtation is an English art, not a French art, my dear Sylvia. AFrenchman either loves--and when he loves he adores on his knees--orelse he has no use, no use at all, for what English people mean byflirtation--the make-believe of love! I should feel much more atease if the Count had insulted you--"

  "Anna!"

  "Yes, indeed! I am quite serious. I fear he loves you."

  And as Sylvia gave a long, involuntary, happy sigh, Anna went on: "Ofcourse, I do not regard him with trust or with liking. How could I? Onthe other hand, I do not go as far as the Wachners; they, it is quiteclear, evidently know something very much to the Count's discredit."

  "I don't believe they do!" cried Sylvia, hotly. "It is mere prejudiceon their part! He does not like them, and they know it. He thinks themvulgar sort of people, and he suspects that Monsieur Wachner isGerman--that is quite enough for him."

  "But, after all, it does not really matter what the Wachners think of theComte de Virieu, or what he thinks of them," said Anna. "What matters iswhat _you_ think of him, and what _he_ thinks of you."

  Sylvia was glad that the darkness hid her deep, burning blushes from AnnaWolsky.

  "You do not realise," said the Polish lady, gravely, "what your lifewould be if you were married to a man whose only interest in life isplay. Mind you, I do not say that a gambler does not make a kind husband.We have an example"--she smiled a little--"in this Monsieur Wachner. Heis certainly very fond of his wife, and she is very fond of him. Butwould you like your husband always to prefer his vice to you?"

  Sylvia made no answer.

  "But why am I talking like that?" Anna Wolsky started up suddenly. "It isabsurd of me to think it possible that you would dream of marrying theComte de Virieu! No, no, my dear child, this poor Frenchman is one ofthose men who, even if personally charming, no wise woman would think ofmarrying. He is absolutely ruined. I do not suppose he has a penny leftof his own in the world. He would not have the money to buy you a weddingring. You would have to provide even that! It would be madness--absolutemadness!"

  "I do not think," said Sylvia, in a low tone, "that there is theslightest likelihood of my ever marrying the Comte de Virieu. You forgetthat I have known him only a short time, and that he has never said aword of love to me. As you say, all he cares about is play."

  "Surely you must be as well aware as I am that lately he has played agreat deal less," said Anna, "and the time that he would have spent atthe Club--well, you and I know very well where he has spent the time,Sylvia. He has spent it with you."

  "And isn't that a good thing?" asked Sylvia, eagerly. "Isn't it farbetter that he should spend his time talking to me about ordinary thingsthan in the Casino? Let me assure you again, and most solemnly, Anna,that he never makes love to me--"

  "Of course it is a good thing for him that he plays less"--Anna spokeimpatiently--"but is it best for you? That is what I ask myself. You havenot looked well lately, Sylvia. You have looked very sad sometimes. Oh,do not be afraid, you are quite as pretty as ever you were!"

  The tears were running down Sylvia's face. She felt that she ought to bevery angry with her friend for speaking thus plainly to her, and yet shecould not be angry. Anna spoke so tenderly, so kindly, so delicately.

  "Shall we go away from Lacville?" asked Madame Wolsky, suddenly. "Thereare a hundred places where you and I could go together. Let us leaveLacville! I am sure you f
eel just as I do--I am sure you realise thatthe Comte de Virieu would never make you happy."

  Sylvia shook her head.

  "I do not want to go away," she whispered.

  And then Madame Wolsky uttered a short exclamation.

  "Ah!" she cried, "I understand. He is the friend you are to meetto-morrow--that is why you are going into Paris!"

  Sylvia remained silent.

  "I understand it all now," went on Anna. "That is the reason why he wasnot there to-night. He has gone into Paris so as not to compromise you atLacville. That is the sort of gallantry that means so little! As ifLacville matters--but tell me this, Sylvia? Has he ever spoken to youas if he desired to introduce his family to you? That is the test,remember--that is the test of a Frenchman's regard for a woman."

  There came a knock at the door. "The carriage for Madame has arrived."

  They went downstairs, Sylvia having left her friend's last questionunanswered.

  Madame Wolsky, though generally so undemonstrative, took Sylvia in herarms and kissed her.

  "God bless you, my dear little friend!" she whispered, "and forgive allI have said to you to-night! Still, think the matter over. I have liveda great deal of my life in this country. I am almost a Frenchwoman. It isno use marrying a Frenchman unless his family marry you too--and Iunderstand that the Comte de Virieu's family have cast him off."

  Sylvia got into the carriage and looked back, her eyes blinded withtears.

  Anna Wolsky stood in the doorway of the Pension, her tall, thin figure insharp silhouette against the lighted hall.

  "We will meet the day after to-morrow, is that not so?" she cried out.

  And Sylvia nodded. As she drove away, she told herself that whateverhappened she would always remain faithful to her affection for AnnaWolsky.