The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 21: South of France. Arthur Machen. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Arthur Machen
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have just been at the coffee-house, where everybody is talking of it. It was a wonderful victory, for those biribanti are knaves of the first water. Your adventure is making a great noise, for everyone says that you could not have broken their bank unless you had made an agreement with the man that kept the bag."

      "My dear fellow, I am tired of you. Here, take this piece of money for your wife and be off."

      The piece of money I had given him was a gold coin worth a hundred Genoese livres, which the Government had struck for internal commerce; there were also pieces of fifty and twenty-five livres.

      I was going on with my calculations when Clairmont brought me a note. It was from Irene, and contained a tender invitation to breakfast with her. I did not know that she was in Genoa, and the news gave me very great pleasure. I locked up my money, dressed in haste, and started out to see her. I found her in good and well-furnished rooms, and her old father, Count Rinaldi, embraced me with tears of joy.

      After the ordinary compliments had been passed, the old man proceeded to congratulate me on my winnings of the night before.

      "Three thousand sequins!" he exclaimed, "that is a grand haul indeed."

      "Quite so."

      "The funny part of it is that the man who keeps the bag is in the pay of the others."

      "What strikes you as funny in that?"

      "Why, he gained half without any risk, otherwise he would not have been likely to have entered into an agreement with you."

      "You think, then, that it was a case of connivance?"

      "Everybody says so; indeed what else could it be? The rascal has made his fortune without running any risk. All the Greeks in Genoa are applauding him and you."

      "As the greater rascal of the two?"

      "They don't call you a rascal; they say you're a great genius; you are praised and envied."

      "I am sure I ought to be obliged to them."

      "I heard it all from a gentleman who was there. He says that the second and the third time the man with the bag gave you the office."

      "And you believe this?"

      "I am sure of it. No man of honour in your position could have acted otherwise. However, when you come to settle up with the fellow I advise you to be very careful, for there will be spies on your tracks. If you like, I will do the business for you."

      I had enough self-restraint to repress the indignation and rage I felt. Without a word I took my hat and marched out of the room, sternly repulsing Irene who tried to prevent me from going as she had done once before. I resolved not to have anything more to do with the wretched old count.

      This calumnious report vexed me extremely, although I knew that most gamesters would consider it an honour. Possano and Rinaldi had said enough to shew me that all the town was talking over it, and I was not surprised that everyone believed it; but for my part I did not care to be taken for a rogue when I had acted honourably.

      I felt the need of unbosoming myself to someone, and walked towards the Strada Balbi to call on the Marquis Grimaldi, and discuss the matter with him. I was told he was gone to the courts, so I followed him there and was ushered into vast hall, where he waited on me. I told him my story, and he said,

      "My dear chevalier, you ought to laugh at it, and I should not advise you to take the trouble to refute the calumny."

      "Then you advise me to confess openly that I am a rogue?"

      "No, for only fools will think that of you. Despise them, unless they tell you you are a rogue to your face."

      "I should like to know the name of the nobleman who was present and sent this report about the town."

      "I do not know who it is. He was wrong to say anything, but you would be equally wrong in taking any steps against him, for I am sure he did not tell the story with any intention of giving offence; quite the contrary."

      "I am lost in wonder at his course of reasoning. Let us suppose that the facts were as he told them, do you think they are to my honour?"

      "Neither to your honour nor shame. Such are the morals and such the maxims of gamesters. The story will be laughed at, your skill will be applauded, and you will be admired, for each one will say that in your place he would have done likewise!"

      "Would you?"

      "Certainly. If I had been sure that the ball would have gone to the harlequin, I would have broken the rascal's bank, as you did. I will say honestly that I do not know whether you won by luck or skill, but the most probable hypothesis, to my mind, is that you knew the direction of the ball. You must confess that there is something to be said in favour of the supposition."

      "I confess that there is, but it is none the less a dishonourable imputation on me, and you in your turn must confess that those who think that I won by sleight of hand, or by an agreement with a rascal, insult me grievously."

      "That depends on the way you look at it. I confess they insult you, if you think yourself insulted; but they are not aware of that, and their intention being quite different there is no insult at all in the matter. I promise you no one will tell you to your face that you cheated, but how are you going to prevent them thinking so?"

      "Well, let them think what they like, but let them take care not to tell me their thoughts."

      I went home angry with Grimaldi, Rinaldi, and everyone else. My anger vexed me, I should properly have only laughed, for in the state of morals at Genoa, the accusation, whether true or false, could not injure my honour. On the contrary I gained by it a reputation for being a genius, a term which the Genoese prefer to that Methodistical word, "a rogue," though the meaning is the same. Finally I was astonished to find myself reflecting that I should have had no scruple in breaking the bank in the way suggested, if it had only been for the sake of making the company laugh. What vexed me most was that I was credited with an exploit I had not performed.

      When dinner-time drew near I endeavoured to overcome my ill temper for the sake of the company I was going to receive. My niece was adorned only with her native charms, for the rascal Croce had sold all her jewels; but she was elegantly dressed, and her beautiful hair was more precious than a crown of rubies.

      Rosalie came in richly dressed and looking very lovely. Her husband, her uncle, and her aunt were with her, and also two friends, one of whom was the aspirant for the hand of my niece.

      Madame Isola-Bella and her shadow, M. Grimaldi, came late, like great people. Just as we were going to sit down, Clairmont told me that a man wanted to speak to me.

      "Shew him in."

      As soon as he appeared M. Grimaldi exclaimed:

      "The man with the bag!"

      "What do you want?" I said, dryly.

      "Sir, I am come to ask you to help me. I am a family man, and it is thought that . . ."

      I did not let him finish.

      "I have never refused to aid the unfortunate," said I. "Clairmont, give him ten sequins. Leave the room."

      This incident spoke in my favour, and made me in a better temper.

      We sat down to table, and a letter was handed to me. I recognizedPossano's writing, and put it in my pocket without reading it.

      The dinner was delicious, and my cook was pronounced to have won his spurs. Though her exalted rank and the brilliance of her attire gave Signora Isoia-Bella the first place of right, she was nevertheless eclipsed by my two nieces. The young Genoese was all attention for the fair Marseillaise, and I could see that she was not displeased. I sincerely wished to see her in love with someone, and I liked her too well to bear the idea of her burying herself in a convent. She could never be happy till she found someone who would make her forget the rascal who had brought her to the brink of ruin.

      I seized the opportunity, when all my guests were engaged with each other, to open Possano's letter. It ran as follows:

      "I went to the bank to change the piece of gold you gave me. It was weighed, and found to be ten carats under weight. I was