Authors: George W. M. Reynolds,James Malcolm Rymer
AFTER having taken a few turns in
Regent-street, the baronet observed "that it was devilish slow work:"
Mr. Talbot suggested the propriety of "a spree;" and Mr. Chichester
declared "that as his friend Markham was anxious to see
life
,
the best thing they could all do was to drop in for an hour at No.—,
Quadrant."
"What place is that?" demanded Markham.
"Oh; only an establishment for cards and dice, and
other innocent diversions," carelessly answered Chichester.
The Quadrant of an evening is crowded with loungers of both
sexes. Beneath those arcades walk the daughters of crime, by ones and twos -
dressed in the flaunting garb that tells so forcibly the tale of broken hearts,
and blighted promise, and crushed affections, - to lose an hour amidst the
haunts of pleasure and of vice, and to court the crime by which alone they
live. The young men that saunter arm-in-arm up and down, and the hoary old
sinners, whose licentious glares seem to plunge down into the depths of the
boddices of those frail but beauteous girls, little think of the amount of
mental suffering which is contained beneath those gay satins and rustling
silks. They mark the heaving of the voluptuous bosom, but dream not of the worm
that gnaws eternally within:- they behold smiles upon the red lips, and are far
from suspecting that the hearts of those who laugh so joyfully are all but
broken!
Thus is it that in the evening the Quadrant has a
characteristic set of loungers of its own:- or, at least, it is frequented
after dusk by a population whose characters are easily to be defined.
A bright lamp burnt in the fan-light over the door of No. —.
Mr. Chichester gave a loud and commanding knock; and a policeman standing by,
who doubtless had several golden reasons for not noticing anything connected
with that establishment, instantly ran across the road after a small boy whom
he suspected to be a thief, because the poor wretch wore an uncommonly shabby
hat. The summons given by Mr. Chichester was not immediately answered. Five minutes
elapsed ere any attention was paid to it; and then the door was only opened to
the small extent allowed by a chain inside. A somewhat repulsive looking
countenance was at the same time protruded from behind the door.
"Well?" said the man to whom the countenance
belonged.
"All right," returned Chichester.
The chain was withdrawn, and the door was opened to its full
extent. The party was thereupon admitted, with some manifestations of
impatience on the part of the porter, who no doubt thought that the door was
kept open too long, into a passage at the end of which was a staircase covered
with a handsome carpet.
Chichester led the way, and his companions followed, up to a
suite of rooms on the first floor These were well furnished, and brilliantly
lighted and red moreen curtains, with heavy and rich fringes, were carefully
drawn over the windows. Splendid mirrors stood above the mantels, which were
also adorned with French timepieces in
or molu
, and candelabra of the same
material. On one side of the front room stood a bouffet covered with wines and
liquors of various descriptions.
In the middle of that same front apartment was the
rouge et noir
table. On each side sate a
Croupier,
with a long rake in his hand, and a green shade over his eyes.
Before one of them was placed a tin case: this was the
Bank
;- and on each side of that
cynosure of all attention, stood little piles of markers, or counters.
Two or three men - well but flashily dressed, and exhibiting
a monstrous profusion of Birmingham jewellery about their persons - sate at the
table. These were the
Bonnets
- individuals in reality in the pay of the proprietor of the
establishment, and whose duties consist in enticing strangers and visitors to
play, or in maintaining an appearance of playing deeply when such strangers and
visitors first enter the room.
The countenances of the croupiers were cold, passionless,
and totally devoid of any animation. They called the game, raked up the
winnings, or paid the losings, without changing a muscle of their features. For
all that regarded animation or excitement, they might have been easily passed
off as automatons.
Not so was it
with the Bonnets. These gentlemen were compelled to affect exuberant joy when
they won, and profound grief or rage when they lost. From time to time they
paid a visit to the sideboard, and helped themselves to wine or spirits, or
regaled themselves with cigars. These refreshments were supplied gratuitously
to all corners by the proprietor: this apparent liberality was upon the
principle of
throwing out a sprat to catch a whale.
When none save the Croupiers and Bonnets are present, they
throw aside their assumed characters, and laugh, and joke, and chatter, and
smoke, and drink; but the moment steps are heard upon the staircase, they all
relapse with mechanical exactitude into their business aspect. The Croupiers
put on their imperturbable countenances as easily as if they were masks; and
the Bonnets appear to be as intent upon the game, as if its results were to
them perspective life or death.
The Croupiers are usually trustworthy persons well known to
the proprietor, or else shareholders themselves in the establishment. The
Bonnets are young men of education and manners, who have probably lost the
ample fortunes wherewith they commenced life, in the very whirlpool to which
for a weekly stipend, they are employed to entice others.
In one of the inner rooms there was a roulette-table; but
this was seldom used. A young lad held the almost sinecure office of attending
upon it.
The front room was tolerably crowded on the evening when
Chichester, Markham, the baronet, and Talbot, honoured the establishment with a
visit.
The moment they entered the apartment, Richard instinctively
drew back, and, catching hold of Chichester's arm, whispered to him in a
hurried and anxious manner, "Tell me, is this a Gambling-House? is it what
I have heard called a Hell?"
"It is a Gambling-House, if you will, my dear
fellow," was the reply; "but a most respectable one. Besides - you
must see life, you know!"
With these words he took Markham's arm, and conducted him up
to the
rouge et noir
table.
A young officer, whose age could not have exceeded twenty,
was seated at the further end of the green-baise covered board. A
huge pile of notes and gold lay before him; but at rapid intervals
one of the Croupiers raked away the stakes which he deposited; and thus his
heap of money was gradually growing smaller.
"Well, this is extraordinary!" ejaculated the
young officer: "I never saw the luck set so completely in against me.
However - I can afford to lose a little, for I broke your bank for you last
night, my boys?"
"What does that mean?" demanded Richard in a
whisper.
"He won all the money which the proprietor deposited in
that tin case, he means," replied Chichester.
"And how much do you suppose that might be?"
"About fifteen hundred to two thousand pounds."
"Here - waiter!" exclaimed the young officer, who
had just lost another stake,- "a glass of claret."
The waiter handed him a glass of the wine so demanded. The
young officer did not notice him for a moment, but waited to see the result of
the next chance.
He lost again.
He turned round to seize the glass of wine; but when his
eyes caught sight of it, his countenance became almost livid with rage.
"Fool! idiot!" he ejaculated, starting from his
seat; "bring me a tumbler - a large tumbler full of claret; my mouth
is as parched as h—l, and my stomach is like a lime-kiln."
The waiter hastened to comply with the wishes of the young
gambler. The tumbler of claret was supplied; and the game continued.
Still the officer lost.
"A cigar!" he shouted, in a fearful state of
excitement- " bring me a cigar!"
The waiter handed him a box of choice Havannahs, that he
might make his selection.
"Why the devil don't you bring a light at the same
time, you d—d infernal rascal?" cried the gamester; and while the domestic
hastened to supply this demand also, he poured a volley of most horrible oaths
at the bewildered wretch' s head.
Again the play proceeded.
And again the young officer lost.
His pile of gold was gone: the Croupier who kept the bank
changed one of his remaining notes.
"That makes three thousand that I have lost already, by
G—d!' ejaculated the young officer.
"Including the amount you won last night, I
believe," said one of the Bonnets.
"Well, sir, and suppose it is - what the deuce is that
to you?" demanded the officer fiercely. "Have I not been here night
after night for those six weeks? and have I not lost thousands - thousands?
When did I ever get a vein of good luck until last night? But never mind - I'll
play on - I'll play till the end: I will either win all back, or lose
everything together. And then - in the latter case —"
He stopped: he had just lost again. His countenance grew
ghastly pale, and he bit his lips convulsively.
"Claret - more claret!" he exclaimed, throwing
away the Havannah, "that cigar only makes me the more thirsty."
And again the play proceeded.
"I am really afraid to contemplate that young man's
countenance," whispered Markham to Chichester.
"Who so?"
"I have an idea that if he should prove unsuccessful he
will commit suicide. I have a great mind just to mention my fears to those men
in the green shades, who seem to be winning all his money."
"Pray be quiet. They will only laugh at you."
"But the life of a fellow-creature?"
"What do they care?"
"Do you mean to say they are such wretches —"
"I mean that they do not care one fig what may happen
so long as they get the money."
Markham was struck speechless with horror as he heard this
cold-blooded announcement. Chichester had however stated nothing but the truth.
The proceedings were now fearfully interesting. The young
officer was worked up to a most horrible state of excitement: his losses
continued to be unvaried by a single gleam of good fortune. Still he persisted
in his ruinous career: note after note was changed. At length his last was
melted into gold. He now became absolutely desperate: his countenance was
appalling;- the frenzy of gambling and the inflammatory effects of the liquors
he had been drinking, rendered his really handsome features positively hideous.
Markham had never beheld such a scene before, and felt
afraid. His companions surveyed it with rem arkable coolness.
The play proceeded; and in a few moments the officer's last
stake was swept away.
Then the croupiers paused, as it were, by common consent;
and all eyes were directed towards the object of universal interest.
"Well - I said I would play until I won all or lost
all," he said; "and I have done so. Waiter, give me another tumbler
of claret: it will compo se me."
He laughed bitterly as he uttered these words.
The claret was brought: he drained the tumbler, and threw it
upon the table where it broke into a dozen pieces.
"Clear this away, Thomas," said one of the
Croupiers, completely unmoved.
"Yes, sir;" and the fragments of the tumbler
disappeared forthwith.
The Bonnets, perceiving the presence of other strangers,
were now compelled to withdraw their attention from the ruined gambler, and
commence playing.
And so the play again proceeded.
"Where is my hat, waiter?" demanded the young
officer, after a pause, during which he had gazed vacantly upon the game.
"In the passage, sir - I believe."
"No - I remember, it is in the inner-room. But do not
trouble yourself - I will fetch it myself."
"Very good, sir;" and the waiter did not
move.
The young officer sauntered, in a seeming leisurely manner,
into the innermost room of the suite.
"What a shocking scene!" whispered Markham to
Chichester. "I am glad I came hither this once: it will be a lesson for me
which I can never forget."
At this instant the report of a pistol echoed sharply
through the rooms.
There was a simultaneous rush to the inner apartment : :-
Markham's presentiments were fulfilled - the young officer had committed
suicide.
His brains were literally blown out, and he lay upon the
carpet weltering in his blood.
A cry of horror burst from the strangers present; and then,
with one accord, they hastened to the door. The baronet, Chichester, and
Talbot, were amongst
the foremost who made this
movement, and were thereby enabled to effect their escape.
Markham stood rivetted to the spot, unaware that, his
companions had left him, and contemplating with feelings of supreme
horror the appalling spectacle before him.
Suddenly the cry of "The police" fell upon his
ears; and heavy steps were heard hurrying up the staircase.
"The Bank!" ejaculated one of the Croupiers.
"All right!" cried the other; and in a moment the
lights were extinguished, as by magic, throughout the entire suite of rooms.
Obeying a natural impulse, Markham hastened to wards the
door; but his progress was stopped by a powerful hand, and in an instant the
bull's-eye of a lantern glared upon his countenance.
He was in the grasp of a police officer.