The Mysteries of London (Vol. 1-4). George W. M. Reynolds. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: George W. M. Reynolds
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nor even prudently, in allowing their son-in-law to live by his wits and be compelled to raise money where he can."

      "And they will tell you in reply, that you did not act honourably nor prudently to squander the large sum they gave you when you married their daughter."

      "The devil they will!" exclaimed the baronet. "Then, in that case, I shall remind them of the consideration for which the large sum you allude to was given."

      "Monster—coward!" cried Lady Cecilia: "do you dare to throw in my teeth the weakness of which I was guilty through excess of love for you?"

      "I am sure you need not be so fastidious, Cecilia. To talk of love now, between a man of the world like me and a woman of the world like you, is an absurdity;—and as for the little weakness of which you speak, I repaired it."

      "Yes," said the lady, bitterly. "When you saw me kneeling in despair at your feet—and when my mother implored you to save her daughter's honour, you turned a deaf ear to our entreaties—you scorned our prayers: but when my father offered a golden argument——"

      "Lady Cecilia—silence, I command you!"

      "When he offered a golden argument, I say," continued the lady, with withering scorn, "—when he produced his cheque-book, Sir Rupert Harborough pretended to yield to my entreaties; and as he raised me from the ground—condescendingly raised me—me, the daughter of a peer—with one hand—with the other he clutched the bribe! Ah! Sir Rupert—you spoilt a good heart—you trampled a confiding disposition in the dust—when you would not allow yourself to be purchased by my love, but still consented to sell yourself to me for my father's gold! Oh! it was the vile instance of a man prostituting himself for gain, as poor weak woman has so often been doomed to do!"

      "Lady Cecilia—I am astonished—I am amazed at the terms in which you allow yourself to address me!" said Sir Rupert Harborough, humiliated and put to shame by these words of keenly cutting satire.

      "And now," continued the indignant lady—"now you solicit me to ruin myself for you—to part with my very ornaments to supply your extravagances—you, who had no pity upon my tears, no feeling for my anguish, no respect for my honour! No, Sir Rupert Harborough: I have assisted you once—assisted you twice—assisted you thrice—assisted you a hundred times already; and what return have you made me? When you are penniless, you remain at home: when you are in the possession of funds, you remain absent for weeks and weeks together. You may love me no longer, it is true;—and, with regard to myself, I confess that your conduct has long—long ago destroyed all the romance of affection in my bosom. Still a woman cannot endure neglect—at least I thought so a few months ago;—but now—now," she added emphatically, as her thoughts wandered to Greenwood, "I am indifferent alike as to your attention or your neglect!"

      "At least, Lady Cecilia, you are candid and explicit," said Sir Rupert, biting his lips. "But perhaps you have something more to observe."

      "No—nothing," answered the lady coldly; and, with these words, she rose and left the room.

      Not many minutes had elapsed since the termination of this "scene," when Mr. Chichester was announced.

      "Well, what news with the old man?" demanded the baronet hastily.

      "My father will not advance me another shilling until June," answered Chichester, throwing himself upon the sofa; "and as for your bill—he won't look at it. Any thing good with you?"

      "Nothing. Lady Cecilia positively refuses to part with the jewels again," said the baronet, stamping his foot with rage.

      "And can't you——"

      "Can't I what?"

      "Can't you help yourself to them in spite of her?" demanded Chichester.

      "Impossible!" returned Harborough. "She keeps them under lock and key in her own room; and the door of that room she always locks when she goes out."

      "How provoking! If we only had some ready money at this moment," observed Chichester, "we might make a little fortune."

      "Yes—town is full—and such opportunities as we might have! By Jove, we must raise the wine somewhere."

      "You do not think that Greenwood——"

      "Oh! no—not for a moment!" cried the baronet, turning very pale as the idea of the forged acceptance of Lord Tremordyn, which would be due in another month, flashed across his mind: "no—I cannot apply to Greenwood for a shilling."

      "And after all the pains I have taken in perfecting you in the new dodges with the cards and dice, ready for this season," said Mr. Chichester, in a most lachrymose tone; then, taking a small parcel from his pocket, he continued, "Here are the implements we want, too: every thing prepared—except the money."

      "Ah!" exclaimed the baronet, "you have got the things, then, at last?"

      "Yes," returned Chichester, opening the parcel and displaying its contents upon the table. "Here are the scratched dice, you see. These must be used upon a bare table, because it is necessary to judge by the sound of the dice in the box whether they are on the scratched side or not. You understand that a hole has been drilled in the centre pip of the five in this die, and in the ace of the other; a piece of ebony is then inserted, with a very small portion projecting. These dice cannot, therefore, fall perfectly flat, when the five side of the one and the ace of the other are underneath on the table; and it is very easy for the thrower just to move the box the least thing before he lifts it, to that the sound may tell him whether the scratched side is down or not. But you are to recollect that a man must be very drunk when you can use them with any degree of safety."

      "I should think so, indeed," said Sir Rupert.

      "I can assure you that no implements of our craft are, on certain occasions, more destructive than these," observed Chichester.

      "And what is the use of these slight scratches upon the dice?"

      "To assist the eye in manipulating them. But here," continued Chichester, holding up a dice-box, and surveying it with a species of paternal admiration—"here is a famous antidote to fair dice. Don't you see that when fair dice are used, you must introduce an unfair box. Many a greenhorn may have heard of loaded dice, and so on; but very few know that there is such a thing as the Doctor Dice-box. Honour to the man, say I, who invented it. If you judge by the outside of this box, it is a very fair-looking one; but just put your finger into it, and you will feel that no less than three-quarters of the inside are filled up, so that there is now only just space enough left in the middle for the dice to fit in. Towards the top the sides grow larger and smoother. The dice, you see, rattle by rising up and down, when shaken briskly, but do not change their position. All that you have to do is to put them in, in the first instance, with a view to the way in which you want them to come up."

      "So that if you want to throw a six and a five, put the dice into the box with the ace and the two uppermost," said the baronet.

      "Precisely," answered Chichester. "A fair box, you know as well as I do, has one or more rims inside, against which the dice must turn in coming out."

      "By the bye," said the baronet, "what is the Gradus, Chichester? you promised to show me a great many times, and have forgotten it; but now that we are upon the subject, you may as well enlighten me."

      "Certainly, my dear fellow," returned this very complacent Mentor; then, taking up a pack of cards, he said, "nothing is more easy than the Gradus, or Step. It is often much safer than Bridging, too. Bridging is known by every snob about