Next morning, he was over again at Monte Carlo betimes, though with a chastening headache. He got a seat at once, and sat down to it like a man who means to win a fortune. His experience of yesterday had only strengthened his preconceived belief in the infallibility of his System. Encouraged by luck, he began playing from the outset now on the basis of staking five louis a time on each turn of the roulette wheel. For the first two or three twirls, fortune still went with him. He won as easily as he had won the preceding evening. But, after a few hazards, the chance began to change; he lost once, twice, thrice, as quickly as he had won at the outset of his playing. Presently, he was aware of Mr Holmes at his side, watching his play with a self-restrained smile of cynical4 indifference5. That smile put Franz Lindner at once upon his mettle6. He began to plunge7 desperately8. Five louis on black;?—?they went like water. Five louis on manque were equally unsuccessful. Time after time Franz played; and time after time he lost again. His winnings had gone down now to two hundred louis. He began to reflect whether it mightn’t be wise to reduce his stake again for a while, during this run of ill-luck, from five louis to two. He even tried it once; but a disapproving9 murmur10 from a lady behind decided11 him to stick to the game he had so far been playing. “You should never change your stakes,” she said, “when you’re losing, you know; it’s an insult to chance, and it brings bad luck with it.” Franz was too good a Tyroler not to be thoroughly12 superstitious13; so he accepted the bystander’s disinterested14 advice, and continued to put down his five gold pieces.
But still, luck was hard. If it’s easy to win three hundred pounds at a go, it’s easier still to lose them. And yet, Franz felt sure that, sooner or later, the System must win; the System was infallible; his friend the betting man had made all that so clear to him. Recklessly and desperately he hurried on with his game?—?five louis, five louis, five louis once more?—?lost, lost, lost, lost?—?till he was sick and tired of it. Now and again, luck varied15, to be sure, for a time, as it had varied yesterday; but while yesterday with minor16 fluctuations17 it steadily18 rose, to-day with minor fluctuations it as steadily fell again. By two o’clock that afternoon, he had lost the whole of his last night’s winnings, and was reduced once more to his original capital.
He was going to stake yet again, somewhat haggard and feverish19, when Joaquin Holmes, who had been watching him with the profoundest interest, tapped him lightly on the arm and invited him to luncheon20. “You want food,” he said “?—?and wine. After a good glass of Mumm, you’ll play better and stronger again!” In the altered state of the money-market, Franz felt himself less punctilious21 on the score of treats than the day before; he accepted the lunch, and the offer of champagne, with despondent22 alacrity23. The Seer, ever prudent24, stood a bottle of the best wine the cellar of the Hotel de Paris could produce. It was excellent and invigorating. As lunch proceeded, Franz’s spirits returned; the champagne supplied him with fresh sinews of war?—?Dutch courage for the onset26. “If I were you, Von Forstemann,” the Seer said in his friendliest and most insinuating27 tone, “I wouldn’t play any more. You’re sure to lose in the end by it.” But Franz stood by his colours. “Ah, no,” he answered, smiling, “I can’t lose. I’ve got a System. It’s been tried before. A friend of mine, do you know, made twenty thousand pounds in these very rooms by it.”
Flushed and fired by his wine, he went back to the tables. The Seer paid the bill for their lunch, and followed him. Franz had found another seat, and was deep in his play. But he lost, lost, lost?—?won a little?—?then lost again. All the afternoon long, he kept on losing. The Seer walked about, exchanging a word or two at times with friends and with ladies of his acquaintance (some of whose faces Franz fancied he had seen before at the London Pavilion), but came back again to his side after each such excursion, with friendly persistence28.
“How much have you lost now?” he asked each time.
And Franz, very shamefaced, yet proud in a way that he could own to such losses, made answer again and again, as the case might be, “A hundred and twenty,” “Two hundred and thirty,” “Three hundred and twenty-seven.” Ach Gott, it was pitiful!
At last, about six o’clock, the Tyroler found himself reduced to a hundred and fifty pounds of his original capital. He couldn’t understand it; this was strange, very strange; the System somehow didn’t seem to work as it ought to do. In his despair, he almost began to disbelieve in its virtues29. Just then, the Seer strolled casually31 by once more, chatting gaily32 to a lady. He paused, and looked at Franz. In the thirst for human sympathy we all feel at such times, Franz beckoned33 him up with one hand, and confided34 to him in a hoarse35 whisper the painful state of his exchequer36. “Come out and have a drink,” the Seer said, bending low, with his most courteous37 manner. “Let’s work this thing out. Just you show me your System?”
Franz followed him blindly across to the café opposite. The Seer ordered two cognacs and a syphon of soda38-water. “Now, tell me how you do it,” he said, in a very grave voice. And, with some little reluctance39, looking down at the table, Franz proceeded to disclose to his attentive40 listener the main points of his System.
It was a transparent41 fallacy, of course. Such systems always are; and the Seer, who was no fool at the doctrine42 of chances, saw through it at a glance. His lip curled lightly. “You’re a good mathematician43?” he asked, with a well-suppressed sneer44.
And Franz was obliged perforce to admit, in this critical moment, that he had got no further in that abstruse45 science than the first four rules of arithmetic.
The Seer assumed his kindliest and most didactic manner. “Now, you look here, Herr von Forstemann,” he said, leaning over towards his new friend confidentially46; “you’ve allowed yourself to be duped; you’ve been grossly imposed upon. I can show you in a minute your System’s all bosh. The bank stands always its regular chance to win, no matter what you do, and it dodges47 you exactly where you think you’ve dodged48 it.”
He took out a pencil and paper, and began with great show of care and patience to make the fallacy as clear as day to his unwilling49 pupil. Franz leant over him and looked. Step by step the clever American unravelled50 before his eyes all the tangled51 mass of false assumptions and baseless conclusions Franz called his System. Poor Franz stood aghast; the demolition52 was patent, irresistible53, crushing. Joaquin Holmes was in his element; he was a specialist on games of chance; he demonstrated with loving care that in this case, as in all others, the bank had exactly thirty-seven chances for itself, against thirty-six for the players. Franz saw it with his own eyes: sorely against his will he was forced to see it. He couldn’t gainsay54 it: it was clear as mud; he could only murmur in a feebly illogical way, “But my friend made twenty thousand pounds in these rooms right off with it.”
The Seer was remorseless. “Accident!” he answered, calmly, with a bland55 wave of the hand. “Pure luck! Coincidence! And if it happened once, by a mere56 fluke, to pull itself off so well, all the less reason to believe such a wonderful sequence of happy shots would ever manage to repeat itself. The bank stands always its fixed57 chance to win in a certain proportion; by good fortune you may circumvent58 it, by calculation, never!”
Franz was convinced against his will. But the blow was an appalling59 one. He had lost three hundred and fifty pounds already; he saw no hope of recovering it. And, what was far worse, he had practically lost twenty thousand into the bargain. During all those years while he had been saving and scraping, he had considered his fortune as good as made, if he could but once go to Monte Carlo with five hundred pounds of ready money in his pocket. In five short minutes the affable stranger had knocked the bottom out of his drum?—?demolished60 the whole vast superstructure of false facts and bad reasoning Franz had reared so carefully; and now, like a house of cards, it had tumbled about his ears, leaving the poor duped Tyroler blankly hopeless and miserable61.
The reaction was painful and piteous to behold62. From a potential millionaire, Franz descended63 at once to be the owner of a paltry64 hundred and fifty pounds in English money. The Seer did his best in these straits to console and comfort him. He pointed65 out that while no man can ensure a fortune at games of chance by trying to play on a system, any man may have the good luck to win large sums if he treats it frankly66 as a question of fortune, not of deliberate planning. “Only,” he added, with a significant glance towards the Casino, “it’s foolish to play where one backs one’s luck against a public bank which stands to win, by its very constitution, a certain regular proportion of all money staked against it.”
His words fell on stony67 ground. Franz was simply inconsolable. The longer he looked at those irrefragable calculations, the more clearly did he recognise now that the Seer was right, and the System on which he had staked his all was a pure delusion68. But Mr Joaquin Holmes extended him still the most obtrusive69 sympathy. “I’m awfully70 sorry for you, Herr von Forstemann,” he said, over and over again, regarding his figures sideways. “This has been a hard trial to you. But you mustn’t give up because you’ve been bitten once. Sooner or later, luck must turn. You’ve lost a great deal; all the sooner, then, must it change for you. Give me the pleasure of dining with you at the restaurant round the corner. You’ll see things in a truer light, you know, when you’ve digested your dinner.”
Franz followed him mechanically. He had no heart for anything. The Seer ordered a choice repast, and plied25 his pigeon well with the best wines in the cellar. All the while, as they dined, he harped71 still on three chords?—?his own persistent72 ill-luck at all games of chance; the folly73 of playing where the odds74 are against you, no matter how little, at a public table; and the certainty of winning back, on the average, what you’ve lost, if only you play long enough at even betting.
Emotions, once well roused, tend to flow on unchecked, in spite of temporary obstacles, in an accustomed channel. As the dinner digested itself, and the Dry Monopole fired Franz’s brain once more, the thrasonic mood of the gambler came over him yet again as strong as ever. Like a born braggart75 that he was, a true Tyrolese Robbler, he began to boast in thick tones of how he would get the better still of those swindling tables. The Seer encouraged him to the echo in this gallant76 resolution, but thought ill of his chances at the unfair roulette-board, against the certain dead-weight of a mathematical calculation. “Come up with me to my room after dinner,” he put in, carelessly, “and I’ll show you a little game I learnt when I went buck-shooting in the Rockies some years ago. It’s perfectly77 fair and square, with no sort of advantage to one side over the other. None of your beastly zeros: all even chances. I won’t play it with you myself?—?or at least, only for a turn or two, just to show you how it’s done?—?I’m so deuced unlucky. But there are lots of fellows around who’ll be glad enough to give you a chance of your revenge; and, in my opinion, it’s just about the very evenest game a sensible man ever put his money down upon.”
Franz submitted to be taught with a very good grace. He was ready enough now for anything on earth that would help him to win back his solid lost sovereigns. They went round to a large hotel in the direction of La Condamine. People were moving in and out of the doorway78 by degrees, for it was just after dinner, and the town was crowded. Franz followed the Seer upstairs to a nicely furnished bedroom on the second floor, arranged as a salon79, with an alcove80 for the bed, after the continental81 fashion. Nobody took much notice of them; come and go is the rule at Monte Carlo everywhere; and, besides, Mr Joaquin Holmes, that affable new-comer, was very much in the habit of taking strangers to play in his bedroom.
They sat down at the table, and the Seer, after much show of fumbling82 in his box, produces at last a pack of English cards, the cover still unbroken. With an innocent air of very slight acquaintance with the game he had proposed, he shuffled83 and cut them. “Let me see,” he said, knitting his brows, and pretending to recollect84. “It’s like this, I think. Ah, yes, I remember.” And he dealt out a card to himself, and another to Franz, with most ingenious carelessness.
Then he went on to explain in very glowing terms the simplicity85 of this game, and its peculiar86 guilelessness. “You back your card for what you like, and if I choose, I double you. You see, it’s even chances. We each stand to win equally. It’s easy as A.B.C. But my luck’s so bad, I won’t play you for money. Let’s stake an imaginary five pounds on the turn-up.”
They tried a deal or two, for love, on this imaginary basis, and Franz won twice out of three times. He wished it had been for sovereigns. He tried again and again, the Seer manipulating his pack all the time with conspicuous87 awkwardness, and managing to lose with surprising regularity88. What a pity the man was so shy of tempting89 fate, Franz thought; though, to be sure, it was no wonder. For he lost, lost, lost, with almost incredible persistence. Still, Franz was annoyed to think that so many lucky shots, at so even a game, should all go for nothing. And he himself?—?why, he could win at this play like wildfire. If only he could find such a pigeon to pluck! He’d drain his man dry of all he had at a sitting!
“Come, put a louis on it!” he exclaimed at last, with a “Who’s afraid” sort of air, to the reluctant stranger.
The Coloradan hesitated. He pulled out a purse full of notes and gold. “No; I can’t go to a louis,” he answered, gingerly, after a pause. “I’ve such beastly bad luck. But I’ll tell you what I’ll do; I’ll lay you ten francs on it!”
His air was candid90 enough to disarm91 the most suspicious mind. He played, and lost. Franz picked the coins up nimbly. “Try it again,” he said, with a broad smile; and Joaquin Holmes tried it. Four times running Franz won; then the American lost patience. “I’ll go you a louis,” he cried, warming up, and drawing a coin from his purse. Franz took him, and won it. At that, Holmes, as the Robbler thought, lost his head and grew frantic92. He plunged93; he doubled; he lost; he cursed his luck; and once more he boldly plunged again. Now and then, to be sure, he won; but ’twas always on the times when he omitted to double. This was a first-rate game, Franz thought; he was winning back his own again.
After a while, the Seer pulled up his chair, and settled down to it seriously. “I’m a devil of a gambler,” he said, with a smile, “when once I get well into it. I won’t leave off now till you’ve broken my bank, and got my bottom dollar. I’ve eight hundred pounds here”?—?which was a simple trade lie?—?“and I won’t stop now till I’ve lost every penny of it.”
Ha, ha; that was game! They buckled94 to in earnest. Franz played with a will. He won, won, won; he laughed loud; he picked up gaily; then, suddenly, strange to say, he lost, lost, lost again. All at once, the Seer’s fingers seemed to go like lightning. He dealt fast and furious; he doubled every time; luck had somehow changed; he was winning now heavily. Franz didn’t think quite so well of the game as it proceeded; he began to regard it, in fact, as little short of a swindle. But, as his pile diminished, the Seer gave him scant95 time to reflect between deals. “Stake! I double you!” Flash went the card; the Seer raked in the money. That was very strong champagne, and Franz’s head was reeling. Still he played, played, played, lost, lost, lost, yet played again. His pile was dwindling96 now with appalling rapidity. He took a pull at the brandy and soda the Seer had obligingly placed by his side. What was this? The affable stranger was clearing him out every time. Franz began to suspect a plant. Could the man be a swindler?
He glanced at his little heap. A cold thrill coursed through him. Only seven louis left! When those seven were gone?—?why, then he would be penniless!
The Seer dealt again. With a loud German oath, Franz seized his hand and stopped it. “I saw you do it,” he cried. “You rogue97, I’ve found you out! You felt one card, changed it, and then pushed out another.”
The Seer sprang up angrily. “That’s an imputation98 on my honour,” he cried, standing99 up and facing him with an air of indignant virtue30. “I’m an English gentleman. If you insult me like that?——”
But before he could say another word,?—?quick as thought, a knife flashed in the air with unspeakable swiftness. The Seer’s hand darted100 into his pocket for the trusty six-shooter. It was dagger101 against pistol, Tyroler against Westerner. But Franz was too sharp for him. Before the Coloradan’s deft102 fingers could reach the trigger of the revolver, that keen blade was buried deep in his exposed left breast?—?buried deep and gurgling. Without a word, without a groan103, the American dropped back short into the easy-chair he had that moment quitted. Blood spurted104 from the wound?—?spurted fast in little jets. It had penetrated105 his heart. He was dead in a second.
In less time than it takes to say it, Franz realised what he had done, and pulled himself together from his paroxysm of passion. Leaving the notes where they lay, he crammed106 his own gold hastily into his waistcoat pocket. He let the knife stop in the wound; it was in no way compromising. Then he opened the door, and walked calmly out, and down the broad stone steps, and into the streets of Monte Carlo.
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1
complacent
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| adj.自满的；自鸣得意的 | |
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snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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mettle
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| n.勇气，精神 | |
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plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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disapproving
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| adj.不满的，反对的v.不赞成( disapprove的现在分词 ) | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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fluctuations
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| 波动，涨落，起伏( fluctuation的名词复数 ) | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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punctilious
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| adj.谨慎的，谨小慎微的 | |
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despondent
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| adj.失望的，沮丧的，泄气的 | |
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alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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onset
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| n.进攻，袭击，开始，突然开始 | |
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insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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exchequer
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| n.财政部；国库 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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doctrine
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| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
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mathematician
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| n.数学家 | |
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sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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abstruse
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| adj.深奥的，难解的 | |
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confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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47
dodges
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| n.闪躲( dodge的名词复数 )；躲避；伎俩；妙计v.闪躲( dodge的第三人称单数 )；回避 | |
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dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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unravelled
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| 解开，拆散，散开( unravel的过去式和过去分词 )； 阐明； 澄清； 弄清楚 | |
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51
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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52
demolition
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| n.破坏,毁坏,毁坏之遗迹 | |
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53
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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54
gainsay
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| v.否认，反驳 | |
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bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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circumvent
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| vt.环绕，包围；对…用计取胜，智胜 | |
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appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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demolished
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| v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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paltry
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| adj.无价值的，微不足道的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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obtrusive
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| adj.显眼的；冒失的 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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harped
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| vi.弹竖琴（harp的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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braggart
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| n.吹牛者；adj.吹牛的，自夸的 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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salon
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| n.[法]沙龙；客厅；营业性的高级服务室 | |
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alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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continental
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| adj.大陆的，大陆性的，欧洲大陆的 | |
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fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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candid
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| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
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disarm
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| v.解除武装，回复平常的编制，缓和 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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buckled
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| a. 有带扣的 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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dwindling
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| adj.逐渐减少的v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的现在分词 ) | |
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rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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imputation
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| n.归罪，责难 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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deft
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| adj.灵巧的，熟练的（a deft hand 能手） | |
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103
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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spurted
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| （液体，火焰等）喷出，（使）涌出( spurt的过去式和过去分词 )； （短暂地）加速前进，冲刺 | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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