his own people-第6章

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settee　by　the　fire。　　〃Madge；　you　come　and　set　by　Mellin；〃　he
commanded　jovially。　　〃Maybe　he'll　forget　you　ain't　a　widow　again。〃

〃I　don't　believe　I　care　much　about　bein'　anybody's　mascot　to…night；〃
she　answered。　　There　was　a　hint　of　anger　in　her　tired　monotone。

〃What？〃　He　turned　from　the　table　and　walked　over　to　the　fireplace。
〃I　reckon　I　didn't　understand　you；〃　he　said　quietly；　almost　gently。
〃You　better　come；　hadn't　you？〃

She　met　his　inscrutable　little　eyes　steadily。　　A　faint　redness
slowly　revealed　itself　on　her　powdered　cheeks；　then　she　followed
him　back　to　the　table　and　took　the　place　he　had　assigned　to　her
at　Mellin's　elbow。

〃I'll　bank；〃　said　Pedlow；　taking　a　chair　between　Cooley　and　the
Italian；　〃unless　somebody　wants　to　take　it　off　my　hands。　　Now；
what　are　we　playing？〃

〃Pokah；〃　responded　Sneyd　with　mild　sarcasm。

〃Bravo！〃　cried　Mellin。　　〃That's　~my~　game。　Ber…~ravo！~〃

This　was　so　far　true：　　it　was　the　only　game　upon　which　he　had　ever
ventured　money；　he　had　played　several　times　when　the　wagers　were
allowed　to　reach　a　limit　of　twenty…five　cents。

〃You　know　what　I　mean；　I　reckon；〃　said　Pedlow。　　〃I　mean　what　we
are　playin'　~fer~？〃

〃Twenty…five　franc　limit；〃　responded　Cooley　authoritatively。
〃Double　for　jacks。　　Play　two　hours　and　settle　when　we　quit。〃

Mellin　leaned　back　in　his　chair。　　〃You　call　that　high？〃　he　asked；
with　a　sniff　of　contempt。　　〃Why　not　double　it？〃

The　fat　man　hammered　the　table　with　his　fist　delightedly。　　〃'He's
game；'　she　says。　　'He's　the　gamest　little　Indian　ever　come　down
the　big　road！'　she　says。　　Was　she　right？　　What？　　Maybe　she　wasn't！
We'll　double　it　before　very　long；　my　boy；　this'll　do　to　start　on。
There。〃　　He　distributed　some　of　the　small　towers　of　ivory　counters
and　made　a　memorandum　in　a　notebook。　　〃There's　four　hundred　apiece。〃

〃That　all？〃　inquired　Mellin；　whereupon　Mr。　Pedlow　uproariously
repeated　Madame　de　Vaurigard's　alleged　tribute。

As　the　game　began；　the　intelligent…looking　maid　appeared　from　the
dining…room；　bearing　bottles　of　whisky　and　soda；　and　these　she
deposited　upon　small　tables　at　the　convenience　of　the　players；
so　that　at　the　conclusion　of　the　first　encounter　in　the　gentle
tournament　there　was　material　for　a　toast　to　the　gallant　who　had
won　it。

〃Here's　to　the　gamest　Indian　of　us　all；〃　proposed　the　fat　man。
〃Did　you　notice　him　call　me　with　a　pair　of　tens？　　And　me　queen…
high！〃

Mellin　drained　a　deep　glass　in　honor　of　himself。　　〃On　my　soul；　Chan'
Pedlow；　I　think　you're　the　bes'　fellow　in　the　whole　world；〃　he　said
gratefully。　　〃Only　trouble　with　youyou　don't　want　to　play　high
enough。〃

He　won　again　and　again；　adding　other　towers　of　counters　to　his
original　allotment；　so　that　he　had　the　semblance　of　a　tiny　castle。
When　the　cards　had　been　dealt　for　the　fifth　time　he　felt　the　light
contact　of　a　slipper　touching　his　foot　under　the　table。

That　slipper；　he　decided　（from　the　nature　of　things）　could　belong　to
none　other　than　his　Helene；　and　even　as　he　came　to　this　conclusion
the　slight　pressure　against　his　foot　was　gently　but　distinctly
increased　thrice。　　He　pressed　the　slipper　in　return　with　his　shoe；
at　the　same　time　giving　Madame　de　Vaurigard　a　look　of　grateful
surprise　and　tenderness；　which　threw　her　into　a　confusion　so
evidently　genuine　that　for　an　unworthy　moment　he　had　a　jealous
suspicion　she　had　meant　the　little　caress　for　some　other。

It　was　a　disagreeable　thought；　and；　in　the　hope　of　banishing　it；
he　refilled　his　glass；　but　his　mood　had　begun　to　change。　　It　seemed
to　him　that　Helene　was　watching　Cooley　a　great　deal　too　devotedly。
Why　had　she　consented　to　sit　by　Cooley；　when　she　had　promised　to
watch　Robert　Russ　Mellin？　　He　observed　the　pair　stealthily。

Cooley　consulted　her　in　laughing　whispers　upon　every　discard；　upon
every　bet。　　Now　and　then；　in　their　whisperings；　Cooley's　hair　touched
hers；　sometimes　she　laid　her　hand　on　his　the　more　conveniently　to
look　at　his　cards。　　Mellin　began　to　be　enraged。　　Did　she　think　that
puling　milksop　had　as　much　as　a　shadow　of　the　daring；　the　devilry；
the　carelessness　of　consequences　which　lay　within　Robert　Russ　Mellin？
〃Consequences？〃　　What　were　they？　　There　were　no　such　things！　　She
would　not　look　at　himwell；　he　would　make　her！　　Thenceforward　he
raised　every　bet　by　another　to　the　extent　of　the　limit　agreed　upon。

Mr。　Cooley　was　thoroughly　happy。　　He　did　not　resemble　Ulysses；　he
would　never　have　had　himself　bound　to　the　mast；　and　there　were
already　sounds　of　unearthly　sweetness　in　his　ears。　　His　conferences
with　his　lovely　hostess　easily　consoled　him　for　his　losses。　　In
addition；　he　was　triumphing　over　the　boaster；　for　Mr。　Pedlow；　with
a　very　ill　grace　and　swearing　（not　under　his　breath）；　was　losing
too。　　The　Countess；　reiterating　for　the　hundredth　time　that　Cooley
was　a　〃wicked　one；〃　sweetly　constituted　herself　his　cup…bearer；
kept　his　glass　full　and　brought　him　fresh　cigars。

Mellin　dealt　her　furious　glances；　and　filled　his　own　glass；　for
Lady　Mount…Rhyswicke　plainly　had　no　conception　of　herself　in　the
role　of　a　Hebe。　　The　hospitable　Pedlow；　observing　this　neglect；
was　moved　to　chide　her。

〃Look　at　them　two　cooing　doves　over　there；〃　he　said　reproachfully；
a　jerk　of　his　bulbous　thumb　indicating　Madame　de　Vaurigard　and　her
young　protege。　　〃Madge；　can't　you　do　nothin'　fer　our　friend　the
Indian？　　Can't　you　even　help　him　to　sody？〃

〃Oh；　perhaps；〃　she　answered　with　the　slightest　flash　from　her　tired
eyes。　　Then　she　nonchalantly　lifted　Mellin's　replenished　glass　from
the　table　and　drained　it。　　This　amused　Cooley。

〃I　like　that！〃　he　chuckled。　　〃That's　one　way　of　helpin'　a　feller！
Helene；　can　you　do　any　better　than　that？〃

〃Ah；　this　dear；　droll　Cooley！〃

The　tantalizing　witch　lifted　the　youth's　glass　to　his　lips　and　let
him　drink；　as　a　mother　helps　a　thirsty　child。　　〃~Bebe！~〃　she　laughed
endearingly。

As　the　lovely　Helene　pronounced　that　word；　Lady　Mount…Rhyswicke　was
leaning　forward　to　replace　Mellin's　empty　glass　upon　the　table。

〃I　don't　care　whether　you're　a　widow　or　not！〃　he　shouted　furiously。
And　he　resoundingly　kissed　her　massive　shoulder。

There　was　a　wild　shout　of　laughter；　even　the　imperturbable　Sneyd
（who　had　continued　to　win　steadily）　wiped　tears　from　his　eyes；　and
Madame　de　Vaurigard　gave　way　to　intermittent　hysteria　throughout
the　ensuing　half…hour。

For　a　time　Mellin　sat　grimly　observing　this　inexplicable　merriment
with　a　cold　smile。

〃Laugh　on！〃　he　commanded　with　bitter　satire；　some　ten　minutes　after
play　had　been　resumedand　was　instantly　obeyed。

Whereupon　his　mood　underwent　another　change；　and　he　became　convinced
that　the　world　was　a　warm　and　kindly　place；　where　it　was　good　to
live。　　He　forgot　that　he　was　jealous　of　Cooley　and　angry　with　the
Countess；　he　liked　everybody　again；　especially　Lady　Mount…Rhyswicke。
〃Won't　you　sit　farther　forward？〃　he　begged　her　earnestly；　〃so　that
I　can　see　your　beautiful　golden　hair？〃

He　heard　but　dimly　the　spasmodic　uproar　that　followed。　　〃Laugh　on！〃
he　repeated　with　a　swoop　of　his　arm。　　〃I　don't　care！　　Don't　you　care
either；　Mrs。　Mount…Rhyswicke。　　Please　sit　where　I　can　see　your
beautiful　golden　hair。　　Don't　be　afraid　I'll　kiss　you　again。　　I
wouldn't　do　it　for　the　whole　world。　　You're　one　of　the　noblest　women
I　ever　knew。　　I　feel　that's　true。　　I　don't　know　how　I　know　it；　but
I　know　it。　　Let　'em　laugh！〃

After　this　everything　grew　more　and　more　hazy　to　him。　　For　a　time
there　was；　in　the　centre　of　the　haze；　a　nimbus　of　light　which
revealed　his　cards　to　him　and　the　towers　of　chips　which　he　constantly
called　for　and　which　as　constantly　disappearedlike　the　towers　of
a　castle　in　Spain。　　Then　the　haze　thickened；　and　the　one　thing　clear
to　him　was　a　phrase　from　an　old…time　novel　he　had　read　long　ago：

〃Debt　of　honor。〃

The　three　words　appeared　to　be　written　in　flames　against　a
background　of　dense　fog。　　A　debt　of　honor　was　as　promissory　note
which　had　to　be　paid　on　Monday；　and　the　appeal　to　the　obdurate
grandfathera　peer　of　England；　the　Earl　of　Mount…Rhyswicke；　in
factwas　made　at　midnight；　Sunday。　　The　fog　grew　still　denser；
lifted　for　a　moment　while　he　wrote　his　name　many　times　on　slips　of
blue　paper；　closed　down　once　more；　and　again　liftedout…of…doors
this　timeto　show　him　a　lunatic　ballet　of　moons　dancing　streakily
upon　the　horizon。

He　heard　himself　say　quite　clearly；　〃All　right；　old　man；　thank　you；
but　don't　bother　about　me；〃　to　a　pallid　but　humorous　Cooley　in
evening　clothes；　the　fog　thickened；　oblivion　closed　upon　him　for
a　seeming　second。。。。




VII。　　The　Next　Morning

Suddenly　he　sat　up　in　bed　in　his　room　at　the　Magnifique；　gazing　upon
a　disconsolate　Cooley　in　gray　tweeds　who　sat　heaped　in　a　chair　at
the　foot　of　the　bed　with　his　head　in　his　hands。

Mellin's　first　sensation　was　of　utter　mystification；　his　second
was　more　corporeal：　　the　consciousness　of　physical　misery；　of
consuming　fever；　of　aches　that　ran　over　his　whole　body；　converging
to　a　dreadful　climax　in　his　head；　of　a　throat　so　immoderately
partched　it　seemed　to　crackle；　and　a　thirst　so　avid　it　was　a
passion。　　His　eye　fell　upon　a　carafe　of　water　on　a　chair　at　his
bedside；　he　seized　upon　it　with　a　shaking　hand　and　drank　half　its
contents　before　he　set　it　down。　　The　action　attracted　his
companion's　attention　and　he　looked　up；　showing　a　pale　and
haggard　countenance。

〃How　do　you　feel？〃　inquired　Cooley　with　a　wan　smile。

Mellin's　head　dropped　back　upon　the　pillow　and　he　made　one　or　two
painful　efforts　to　speak　before　he　succeeded　in　finding　a　ghastly
semblance　of　his　voice。

〃I　thought　I　was　at　Madame　de　Vaurigard's。〃

〃You　were；〃　said　the　other；　adding　grimly：　　〃We　both　were。〃

〃But　that　was　only　a　minute　ago。〃

〃It　was　six　hours　ago。　　It's　goin'　on　ten　o'clock　in　the　morning。〃

〃I　don't　understand　how　that　can　be。　　How　did　I　get　here？〃

〃I　brought　you。　　I　was　pretty　bad；　but　youI　never　saw　anything
like　you！　　From　the　time　you　kissed　Lady　Mount…Rhyswicke〃

Mellin　sat　bolt　upright　in　bed；　staring　wildly。　　He　began　to
tremble　violently。

〃Don't　you　remember　that？〃　asked　Cooley。

Suddenly　he　did。　　The　memory　of　it　came　with　inexorable　clarity；　he
crossed　forearms　over　his　horror…stricken　face　and　fell　back　upon
his　pillow。

〃Oh；〃　he　gasped。　　〃Un…speakable！　　Un…speakable！〃

〃Lord！　　Don't　worry　about　that！　　I　don't　think　she　minded。〃

〃It's　the　thought　of　Madame　de　Vaurigardit　kills　me！　　The　horror
of　itthat　I　should　do　such　a　thing　in　her　house！　　She'll　never
speak　to　me　again；　she　oughtn't　to；　she　ought　to　send　her　groom　to
beat　me！　　You　can't　think　what　I've　lost〃

〃Can't　I！〃　　Mr。　Cooley　rose　from　his　chair　and　began　to　pace　up　and
down　the　chamber。　　〃I　can　guess　to　within　a　thousand　francs　of　what
~I~'ve　lost！　　I　had　to　get　the　hotel　to　cash　a　check　on　New　York
for　me　this　morning。　　I've　a　habit　of　carrying　all　my　money　in
bills；　and　a　fool　trick；　too。　　Well；　I'm　cured　of　it！〃

〃Oh；　if　it　were　only　a　little　~money~　and　nothing　else　that　I'd
lost！　　The　money　means　nothing。〃　　Mellin　choked。

〃I　suppose　you're　pretty　well　fixed。　　Well；　so　am　I；〃　Cooley　shook
his　head；　〃but　money　certainly　means　something　to　me！〃

〃It　wouldn't　if　you'd　thrown　away　the　most　precious　friendship　of
your　life。〃

〃See　here；〃　said　Cooley；　h