The Chink in the Armour Read online

  CHAPTER IV

  As the young man came into the dining-room he glanced over to where Mrs.Bailey was sitting and then he looked away, and, unfolding his tablenapkin, paid no more attention to the only other occupant of the room.

  Now this was a very trifling fact, and yet it surprised our youngEnglishwoman; she had become accustomed to the way in which Frenchmen, orperhaps it would be more true to say Parisians, stare at a pretty womanin the streets, in omnibuses, and in shops. As for the dining-room of theHotel de l'Horloge, it always seemed full of eyes when she and AnnaWolsky were having lunch or dinner there.

  Now, for the first time, she found herself close to a Frenchman withoutfeeling either uncomfortably or amusingly aware of a steady, unwinkingstare. It was quite an odd sensation to find herself thus neglected!

  Without actually looking round, Sylvia, out of the corner of her blueeye, could see this exceptional Frenchman. He was dressed in whiteflannels, and he wore rather bright pink socks and a pink tie to match.He must be, she decided, something of a dandy. Though still a young man,he was rather bald, and he had a thick fair moustache. He looked boredand very grave; she could not help wondering why he was staying atLacville.

  M. Polperro suddenly appeared at the door. "Would M. le Comte preferscrambled eggs or an omelette?" he asked obsequiously, and "M. le Comte"lifted his head and answered shortly, but with a smile, "Scrambled eggs,my good Polperro."

  Doubtless this was the gentleman who was brother-in-law of the FrenchDuke mentioned by M. Girard. He spoke to the chef with the kindlyfamiliarity born of long knowledge.

  After having given the Count his scrambled eggs, the young waitress cameover to where Sylvia was sitting. "Would Madame like to have her coffeein the garden?" she asked; and Sylvia said that she would.

  How enchanting was the garden of the Villa du Lac, and how unlike anyhotel garden she had ever seen! The smooth, wide lawn was shaded withnoble cedars and bright green chestnut trees; it was paradise comparedwith the rather stuffy little Hotel de l'Horloge and the dusty Parisstreets.

  M. Polperro himself brought Sylvia's coffee. Then he stayed on talking toher, for like all clever hotel-keepers the Southerner had the gift ofmaking those who were staying in his house feel as if they were indeedhis guests rather than his clients.

  "If Madame should ever care to make a little stay at Lacville, how happyMadame Polperro and I would be!" he exclaimed. "I have a beautiful roomoverlooking the lake which I could give Madame. It was reserved for aRussian Princess, but now she is not coming--"

  "Perhaps I will come and stay here some day," said Sylvia, and she reallyfelt as if she would like to come and stay in the Villa du Lac. "But I amgoing to Switzerland next week, so it will have to be the next time Icome to France in the summer."

  "Does Madame play?" asked M. Polperro, insinuatingly.

  "I?" said Sylvia, laughing. "No, indeed! Of course, I play bridge--allEnglish people play bridge--but I have never gambled, if you mean that,monsieur, in my life."

  "I am delighted to hear Madame say so," said M. Polperro, heartily."People now talk of Lacville as if there was only the Casino and theplay. They forget the beautiful walks, the lovely lake, and the manyother attractions we have to offer! Why, Madame, think of the Forest ofMontmorency? In old days it was quite a drive from Lacville, but now ataxi or an automobile will get you there in a few minutes! Still theCasino is very attractive too; and all _my_ clients belong to the Club!"

  Sylvia stayed on for nearly an hour in the delightful, peaceful garden,and then, rather regretfully, she went up the lichen-covered steps whichled into the hall. How deliciously cool and quiet it was there.

  She paid her bill; it seemed very moderate considering how good her lunchhad been, and then slowly made her way out of the Villa du Lac, downacross the stone-flagged courtyard to the gate, and so into the sandedroad.

  Crossing over, she began walking by the edge of the lake; and once moreloneliness fell upon her. The happy-looking people who passed herlaughing and talking together, and the more silent couples who floated byon the water in the quaint miniature sailing boats with which the surfaceof the lake was now dotted, were none of them alone.

  Suddenly the old parish church of Lacville chimed out the hour--it wasonly one o'clock--amazingly early still!

  Someone coming across the road lifted his hat. Could it be to her? Yes,for it was the young man who had shared with her, for a time, the largedining-room of the Villa du Lac.

  Again Sylvia was struck by what she could only suppose were thestranger's good manners, for instead of staring at her, as even thegood-humoured bourgeois with whom she had travelled from Paris thatmorning had done, the Count--she remembered he was a Count--turnedsharply to the right and walked briskly along to the turning whichled to the Casino.

  The Casino? Why, of course, it was there that she must look for AnnaWolsky. How stupid of her not to have thought of it! And so, afterwaiting a moment, she also joined the little string of people who werewending their way towards the great white building.

  After having paid a franc for admission, Sylvia found herself in the hallof the Casino of Lacville. An eager attendant rushed forward to relieveher of the dust-cloak and parasol which she was carrying.

  "Does Madame wish to go straight to the Room of the Games?" he inquiredeagerly.

  Sylvia bent her head. It was there, or so she supposed, that Anna wouldbe.

  Feeling a thrill of keen curiosity, she followed the man through aprettily-decorated vestibule, and so into a large room, overlooking thelake, where already a crowd of people were gathered round the green baizetables.

  The Salle des Jeux at Lacville is a charming, conservatory-likeapartment, looking, indeed, as if it were actually built out on thewater.

  But none of the people were looking at the beautiful scene outside.Instead, each group was intent on the table, and on the game being playedthereon--a game, it may be mentioned, which has a certain affinity withRoulette and Petits Chevaux, though it is neither the one nor the other.

  Sylvia looked about her timidly; but no one took the slightest notice ofher, and this in itself was rather strange. She was used to exciting agood deal of attention wherever she went in France, but here, atLacville, everyone seemed blind to her presence. It was almost as if shewere invisible! In a way this was a relief to her; but at the same time,she found it curiously disconcerting.

  She walked slowly round each gambling table, keeping well outside thevarious circles of people sitting and standing there.

  Strange to say Anna Wolsky was not among them. Of that fact Sylvia soonbecame quite sure.

  At last a servant in livery came up to her. "Does Madame want a seat?" heasked officiously. "If so, I can procure Madame a seat in a very fewmoments."

  But Sylvia, blushing, shook her head. She certainly had no wish to sitdown.

  "I only came in to look for a friend," she said, hesitatingly; "but myfriend is not here."

  And she was making her way out of the Salle des Jeux, feeling ratherdisconsolate and disappointed, when suddenly, in the vestibule, she sawMadame Wolsky walking towards her in the company of a middle-aged man.

  "Then that is settled?" Sylvia heard Anna say in her indifferent French."You will fill up all the formalities, and by the time I arrive the cardof membership will be ready for me? This kind of thing"--she waved herhand towards the large room Sylvia had just left--"is no use to me atall! I only like _le Grand Jeu_"; and a slight smile came over her darkface.

  The man who was with her laughed as if she had made a good joke; thenbowing, he left her.

  "Sylvia!"

  "Anna!"

  Mrs. Bailey fancied that the other was not particularly sorry to havebeen followed.

  "So you came after me? Well! Well! I never should have thought to haveseen my dear Puritan, Sylvia Bailey, in such a place as the Casino ofLacville?" said the Polish lady laughing. "However, as you are here,let us enjoy ourselves. Would you like to risk a few francs?"

  Together they h
ad gone back into the Salle des Jeux, and Anna drew Sylviatowards the nearest table.

  "This is a child's game!" she exclaimed, contemptuously. "I cannotunderstand how all these clever Parisians can care to come out here andlose their money every Saturday and Sunday, to say nothing of otherdays!"

  "But I suppose some of these people make money?" questioned Sylvia. Shethought she saw a great deal of money being won, as well as lost, on thegreen cloth of the table before her.

  "Oh yes, no doubt a few may make money at this game! But I have just beenarranging, with the aid of the owner of the Pension where I am going tostay when I come here, to join the Club."

  And then, realising that Sylvia did not understand, she went on.

  "You see, my dear child, there are two kinds of play here--as there are,indeed, at almost every Casino in France. There is _this_ game, which is,as I say, a child's game--a game at which you can make or lose a fewfrancs; and then there is Baccarat!"

  She waited a moment.

  "Yes?" said Sylvia questioningly.

  "Baccarat is played here in what they call the Club, in another part ofthe building. As there is an entrance fee to the Club, there is neversuch a crowd in the Baccarat Room as there is here. And those who belongto the Club 'mean business,' as they say in your dear country. They come,that is, to play in the way that I understand and that I enjoy play!"

  A little colour rose to Anna Wolsky's sallow cheeks; she lookedexhilarated, excited at the thoughts and memories her words conjured up.

  Sylvia also felt curiously excited. She found the scene strangelyfascinating--the scene presented by this crowd of eager men and women,each and all absorbed in this mysterious game which looked anythingbut a child's game, though Anna had called it so.

  But as they were trying to make their way through the now dense crowd ofpeople, the middle-aged man who had been with Anna when Sylvia had firstseen her just now hurried up to them.

  "Everything is arranged, Madame!" he exclaimed. "Here is your membershipcard. May I have the pleasure of taking you myself to the Club? Yourfriend can come too. She does not want to play, does she?"

  He looked inquisitively at Sylvia, and his hard face softened. He hadyour true Frenchman's pleasure in charm and beauty. "Madame, or is itMademoiselle?--"

  "Madame!" answered Anna, smiling.

  "--Madame can certainly come in and look on for a few moments, eventhough she be not a member of the Club."

  They turned and followed him up a broad, shallow staircase, into a partof the Casino where the very atmosphere seemed different from thatsurrounding the public gaming tables.

  Here, in the Club, all was hushed and quiet, and underfoot was a thickcarpet.

  There were very few people in the Baccarat Room, some twelve men, andfour or five ladies who were broken up into groups, and talking with oneanother in the intimate, desultory fashion in which people talk who meetdaily in pursuit of some common interest or hobby.

  And then, all at once, Sylvia Bailey saw that among them, but standing alittle apart, was the Count--was not his name de Virieu?

  He turned round, and as he saw her she thought that a look of surprise,almost of annoyance, flitted over his impassive face. Then he moved awayfrom where he could see her.

  A peculiar-looking old gentleman, who seemed on kindly terms witheveryone in the room, pulled a large turnip watch out of his pocket. "Itis nearly half-past one!" he exclaimed fussily. "Surely, it is time thatwe began! Who takes the Bank to-day?"

  "I will," said the Comte de Virieu, coming forward.

  Five minutes later play was in full swing. Sylvia did not in the leastunderstand the game of Baccarat, and she would have been surprised indeedhad she been told that the best account of it ever written is that whichdescribes it as "neither a recreation nor an intellectual exercise, butsimply a means for the rapid exchange of money well suited to persons ofimpatient temperament."

  With fascinated eyes, Sylvia watched Anna put down her gold pieces on thegreen cloth. Then she noted the cards as they were dealt out, andlistened, it must be admitted, uncomprehendingly, to the mysterious wordswhich told how the game was going. Still she sympathised very heartilywith her friend when Anna's gold pieces were swept away, and she rejoicedas heartily when gold was added to Anna's little pile.

  They both stood, refusing the seats which were pressed upon them.

  Suddenly Sylvia Bailey, looking up from the green cloth, saw the eyes ofthe man who held the Bank fixed full upon her.

  The Comte de Virieu did not gaze at the young English woman with thebold, impersonal stare to which she had become accustomed--his glance wasfar more thoughtful, questioning, and in a sense kindly. But his eyesseemed to pierce her through and through, and suddenly her heart beganto beat very fast. Yet no colour came into her face--indeed, Sylvia grewpale.

  She looked down at the table, but even so she remained conscious of thatpiercing gaze turned on her, and with some surprise she found herselfkeenly visualising the young man's face.

  Alone among all the people in the room, the Comte de Virieu looked as ifhe lived a more or less outdoor life; his face was tanned, his blue eyeswere very bright, and the hands dealing out the cards were well-shapedand muscular. Somehow he looked very different, she could hardly explainhow or why, from the men round him.

  At last she moved round, so as to avoid being opposite to him.

  Yes, she felt more comfortable now, and slowly, almost insensibly, theglamour of play began to steal over Sylvia Bailey's senses. She began tounderstand the at once very simple and, to the uninitiated, intricategame of Baccarat--to long, as Anna Wolsky longed, for the fateful nine,eight, five, and four to be turned up.

  She had fifty francs in her purse, and she ached to risk a gold piece.

  "Do you think I might put down ten francs?" she whispered to Anna.

  And the other laughed, and exclaimed, "Yes, of course you can!"

  Sylvia put down a ten-franc piece, and a moment later it had becometwenty francs.

  "Leave it on," murmured Anna, "and see what happens--"

  Sylvia followed her friend's advice, and a larger gold piece was added tothe two already there.

  She took up the forty francs with a curious thrill of joy and fear.

  But then an untoward little incident took place. One of the liveriedmen-servants stepped forward. "Has Madame got her card of membership?"he inquired smoothly.

  Sylvia blushed painfully. No, she had not got a card of membership--andthere had been an implied understanding that she was only to look on, notplay.

  She felt terribly ashamed--a very unusual feeling for Sylvia Bailey--andthe gold pieces she held in her hand, for she had not yet put them in herpurse, felt as if they burnt her.

  But she found a friend, a defender in an unexpected quarter. The Countrose from the table. He said a few words in a low tone to the servant,and the man fell back.

  "Of course, this young lady may play," he addressed Anna, "and as BankerI wish her all good luck! This is probably her first and her last visitto Lacville." He smiled pleasantly, and a little sadly. Sylvia noticedthat he had a low, agreeable voice.

  "Take her away, Madame, when she has won a little more! Do not give hertime to lose what she has won."

  He spoke exactly as if Sylvia was a child. She felt piqued, and MadameWolsky stared at him rather haughtily. Still, she was grateful for hisintervention.

  "We thank you, Monsieur," she said stiffly. "But I think we have beenhere quite long enough."

  He bowed, and again sat down.

  "I will now take you a drive, Sylvia. We have had sufficient of this!"

  Anna walked towards the door, and many were the curious glances nowturned after the two friends.

  "It will amuse you to see something of Lacville. As that gentleman said,I do not suppose you will ever come here again. And, as I shall spendmost of my time in the Casino, I can very well afford to spare a littlewhile out of it to-day!"

  They made their way out of the great white buildi
ng, Sylvia feelingoppressed, almost bewildered, by her first taste of gambling.

  It was three o'clock, and very hot. They hailed one of the little opencarriages which are among the innocent charms of Lacville.

  "First you will go round the lake," said Madame Wolsky to the driver,"and then you will take us to the Pension Malfait, in l'Avenue desAcacias."

  Under shady trees, bowling along sanded roads lined with pretty villasand chalets, they drove all round the lake, and more and more the placeimpressed Sylvia as might have done a charming piece of scene-painting.

  All the people they passed on the road, in carriages, in motor-cars, andon foot, looked happy, prosperous, gay, and without a care in the world;and where in the morning there had been one boat, there were now fivesailing on the blue, gleaming waters fringed with trees and floweringshrubs.

  At last they once more found themselves close to the Casino. A steadystream of people was now pouring in through the great glass doors.

  "This sort of thing will go on up till about nine this evening!"said Anna, smiling grimly. "Think, my dear--a hundred and twenty trainsdaily! That room in the Casino where I first saw you will be crammed tosuffocation within an hour, and even the Club will be well filled, thoughI fancy the regular habitues of the club are rather apt to avoid Saturdayand Sunday at Lacville. I myself, when living here, shall try to dosomething else on those two days. By the way--how dreadful that I shouldforget!--have you had a proper _dejeuner_?" she looked anxiously atSylvia.

  Sylvia laughed, and told something of her adventures at the Villa du Lac.

  "The Villa du Lac? I have heard of it, but surely it's an extremelyexpensive hotel? The place I've chosen for myself is farther away fromthe Casino; but the distance will force me to take a walk every day, andthat will be a very good thing. Last time I was at Monte Carlo I had alodging right up in Monaco, and I found that a very much healthier planthan to live close to the Casino," Anna spoke quite seriously. "ThePension Malfait is really extraordinarily cheap for a place near Paris.I am only going to pay fifty-five francs a week, _tout compris_!"

  They had now turned from the road encircling the lake, and were drivingthrough leafy avenues which reminded Sylvia of a London suburb where shehad once stayed.

  The chalets and villas by which they passed were not so large nor soprosperous-looking as those that bordered the lake, but still many ofthem were pretty and fantastic-looking little houses, and the gardenswere gay with flowers.

  "I suppose no one lives here in the winter!" said Sylvia suddenly.

  She had noticed, for in some ways she was very observant though in otherways strangely unseeing, that all the flowers were of the bedding-outvarieties; there were luxuriant creepers, but not a single garden thatshe passed had that indefinable look of being an old or a well-tendedgarden.

  "In the winter? Why, in the winter Lacville is an absolute desert," saidAnna laughing. "You see, the Casino only has a summer Concession; itcannot open till April 15. Of course there are people who will tell youthat Lacville is the plague-pit of Paris, but that's all nonsense!Lacville is neither better nor worse than other towns near the capital!"

  The carriage had now drawn up before a large, plain, white house, acrosswhich was painted in huge, black letters, "Hotel-Pension Malfait."

  "This is the place I have found!" exclaimed Anna. "Would you care to comein and see the room I've engaged from next Monday week?"

  Sylvia followed her into the house with curiosity and interest. Somehowshe did not like the Pension Malfait, though it was clear that it hadonce been a handsome private mansion standing in large grounds of itsown. The garden, however, had now been cut down to a small strip, and thewhole place formed a great contrast to the gay and charming Villa du Lac.

  What garden there was seemed uncared for, though an attempt had been madeto make it look pretty with the aid of a few geraniums and marguerites.

  M. Malfait, the proprietor of the Pension, whom Sylvia had already seenwith Anna at the Casino, now came forward in the hall, and Sylviacompared him greatly to his disadvantage, to the merry M. Polperro.

  "Madame has brought her friend?" he said eagerly, and staring at Sylviaas he spoke. "I hope that Madame's friend will come and stay with us too?I have a charming room which I could give this lady; but later on weshall be very full--full all the summer! The hot weather is a godsendfor Lacville; for it drives the Parisians out from their unhealthy city."

  He beckoned to his wife, a disagreeable-looking woman who was sitting ina little glass cage made in an angle of the square hall.

  "Madame Wolsky has brought this good lady to see our Pension!" heexclaimed, "and perhaps she is also coming to stay with us--"

  In vain Sylvia smilingly shook her head. She was made to go all over thelarge, rather gloomy house, and to peep into each of the bare, uglybed-rooms.

  That which Anna had engaged had a window looking over the back of thehouse; Sylvia thought it singularly cheerless. There was, however, a goodarm-chair and a writing-table on which lay a new-looking blotter. It wasthe only bed-room containing such a luxury.

  "An English lady was staying here not very long ago," observed M.Malfait, "and she bought that table and left it to me as a little giftwhen she went away. That was very gracious on her part!"

  They glanced into the rather mournful-looking _salon_, of which thewindows opened out on the tiny garden. And then M. Malfait led themproudly into the dining-room, with its one long table, running down themiddle, on which at intervals were set dessert dishes filled with thenuts, grapes, and oranges of which Sylvia had already become so weary atthe Hotel de l'Horloge.

  "My clientele," said M. Malfait gravely, "is very select and _chic_.Those of my guests who frequent the Casino all belong to the Club!"

  He stated the fact proudly, and Sylvia was amused to notice that in thismatter he and mine host at the Villa du Lac apparently saw eye to eye.Both were eager to dissociate themselves from the ordinary gambler wholost or won a few francs in those of the gambling rooms open to thegeneral public.

  "Well," said Anna at last, "I suppose we had better leave now, but wemight as well go on driving for about an hour, and then, when it is alittle cooler, we will go back to Paris and be there in time for tea."

  The driver was as good-natured as everyone else at Lacville seemed to be.He drove his fares away from the town, and so to the very outskirts ofLacville, where there were many charming bits of wild woodland andgardens up for sale.

  "Even five years ago," he said, "much of this was forest, Mesdames; butnow--well, Dame!--you can understand people are eager to sell. There arerumours that the Concession may be withdrawn from the Casino--that wouldbe terrible, some say it would kill Lacville! It would be all the same tome, I should always find work elsewhere. But it makes everyone eager tosell--those, I mean, who have land at Lacville. There are others,"continued the man--he had turned round on his seat, and the horse wasgoing at a foot's pace--"who declare that it would be far better for thetown--that there would be a more solid population established here--youunderstand, Mesdames, what I mean? The Lacville tradesmen would be aspleased, quite as pleased, or so some of them say; but, all the same,they are selling their land!"

  When the two friends finally got back to the Hotel de l'Horloge, SylviaBailey found that a letter, which had not been given to her that morning,contained the news that the English friends whom she had been expectingto join in Switzerland the following week had altered their plans, andwere no longer going abroad.