Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 42).djvu/746

"I'm afraid I shall have to push you a little beyond the sticking-point. I'm in a hole myself. I'm pressed for money. I've got to find at least five hundred pounds in four-and-twenty hours."

"Is that true?"

"Perfectly true. I shall be in a very inconvenient position if I don't find it; and it's got to come from you. You'll be in a more inconvenient position than I shall if it doesn't; so that's plain. I've come all the way to Dieppe to make it clear to you that it is plain. Can you get five hundred pounds out of your fair lady between this and to-morrow night? If you can I'll wait a few days for the rest, but five hundred I've got to have before I go to bed to-morrow night; or—you know the alternative if I don't. That engagement will be off; I don't suppose even she will want to marry you after you've done a term of penal servitude. There's something else—I should like a hundred to-night."

"I haven't ten pounds left in the world. I'm practically broke; I've been losing steadily ever since I've been at this place."

"Then it looks as if you'll have to get a hundred for me and a bit over for yourself. I've got to have my hundred, and the other four to-morrow."

Mr. Armitage, looking steadily at the other, seemed to see something in his face which made it clear that he meant what he said. A grim look came on his own face as I saw him say: "I'll see what I can do."

"You'd better. Where is the lady?"

"Punting, in the club; playing baccarat."

"Then you'd better cut off to the club as fast as ever you can, and take her by the scruff of the neck and squeeze that hundred out of her while she's got it to squeeze. After you're married you're not going to let her play baccarat with your money, are you? She'll make a pauper of you if you don't take care."

"You mind your own business, and leave me to manage my matrimonial affairs after my own fashion." Mr. Armitage got up from his chair. "Where shall I find you, at the hotel or here?"

"You'll find me all over the place, my lad, don't you make any mistake. I'm not going to lose sight of you till I've got my money, or got you in jail. You can go, but just you understand I shall be close behind you—and I'm not the only one who'll be close behind you either. If you keep looking over your shoulder you'll see two or three—friends of mine."

Mr. Armitage took himself off, with an air of indifference which was very well done; he could not have had a very careless feeling in his heart. Almost immediately Mr. Clarke followed with the evident intention of dogging his steps. And I was left alone, nearly overcome by feelings which were altogether indescribable.

What on earth was I to do? It was no business of mine, this affair of the old maid and the young bachelor. She must have known what a risk she was running when she agreed to his preposterous proposal. If, by what I will call an accident, I had become acquainted with facts which made the gentleman's position in the matter abundantly clear—still it was no concern of mine.

But it was no use my talking to myself like that. I could not allow a person of my own sex to enter into what I knew would be such a hideous marriage without making some attempt to lay before her the facts upon which my knowledge was based. In other words, here was one of those opportunities for doing good of which people were so fond of talking; and, if the thing was in my power, good should be done.

I got up from my seat and went in search of Miss Drawbridge; finding her, as I had expected, in that part of the building which is found in every French casino, and which—I presume ironically—is called "Cercle privé," as if it ever is, in any sense of the word, a "club," or has anything "private" about it. She was seated at one of the baccarat tables, and I could see at a glance that she was winning; she had quite a quantity of bank-notes in front of her, and kept adding to the store. Presently the bank was closed and the players rose. Miss Drawbridge rose too, with her spoils in a white satin handbag. As she moved towards the door Mr. Armitage came into the room, with Mr. Clarke not very far behind him. When he accosted her, I thought, as I suppose everyone else did in the room, what an extraordinary couple they were—to think that they were ever going to be married. I saw him ask her, with an attempt at a smile:—

"Well, what luck? How many banks have you broken?"

Her back was towards me, so that I could not see her answer, but I guessed what it was from his rejoinder.

"That's great news." I fancy he hesitated. Would he have the assurance to ask for that hundred pounds for Mr. Clarke without a moment's warning? He approached the subject by what I suppose he meant to