"Before I tell you I must, that you may understand me, give you some information concerning the past of a certain member of our family. You know that I have a brother of whom I have never spoken to you; I am going to do so now. We were two merry boys together,--Ferdinand two years younger than I,--and we were very fond of each other, although we were utterly dissimilar physically and mentally; he was a bookworm, excellent at learning, while I was a wild, wayward fellow, fonder of my rifle than of any book. When we left school he wanted to pursue his studies, while I was bent on entering the army. Our father was a stern, harsh man, and would not suffer any son of his to be a quill-driver. All Ferdinand's entreaties, and even the tears of our mother, whose favourite he was, were of no avail; he had to don the uniform. To the last moment he implored my father not to force him to embrace a profession which he hated, but my father contemptuously turned a deaf ear, and did not even bid him good-bye when he left us, nor indeed did I, for I was vexed with him for his womanish conduct.
"And so Ferdinand became a soldier, and the reports received of him from his colonel, an old friend of my father's, were extremely fair. He was no favourite in the corps of officers: he was too staid and grave, he was even accused of miserliness, but he did his duty, soon became ensign, passed a brilliant examination, and scarcely a year after entering the service gained his epaulettes, while I was two full years gaining mine.
"Several years went by; then we met on some great occasion. I had been delighted with the prospect of seeing him, but I soon found that we did not suit each other. He had grown more staid, I was wilder than ever,--no two brothers could be more different. All our comrades said so. I heard remarks of theirs about Ferdinand that made me furious, and yet I could do nothing to contradict them, for there was no positive expression of opinion in what was reported to me,--it mostly consisted of vague sneers from which I drew the worst conclusions.
"Ferdinand was as unpopular as possible; the officers of his regiment accused him of unsociability, and declared that instead of living with them he was always shut up in his room, poring over his books, and that he hoarded every penny of his pay. But they found fault with him chiefly because he never took part in any social entertainment unless he knew that gaming would form part of it. Play was his only passion; his stakes were never large, although when he had a decided run of luck he would play a little higher than usual, but then only with extreme caution. It was owing to this caution that he won with great regularity.
"My head used to spin when I heard my comrades talk of Ferdinand and his never-failing luck at play, using expressions too vague to admit of a reply, but easy enough to understand. I made up my mind to speak frankly with him upon the subject, but before I could do so the catastrophe occurred which separated us forever. One evening we were both present at a gay gathering; Ferdinand knew that the thing would close with play. A young officer of hussars, a Herr von Kleinschmidt, kept the bank, and was unfortunate. He lost considerable sums and it vexed him, but it irritated him still more that Ferdinand, whom he could not bear, played with his usual caution and met with his usual success. Every time Ferdinand won Herr von Kleinschmidt made some cutting remark, and his observations were all the more bitter as Ferdinand scarcely seemed to hear them. Others won far larger sums than he, but he alone seemed to excite the venom of the angry bank-keeper; he followed Ferdinand's play with suspicious eyes, and suddenly, when Ferdinand had won several times upon the same card, the irritated officer threw his cards upon the table.
"'So long as Herr von Heydeck plays I will not draw another card,' he said, angrily; and then, with a contemptuous glance at Ferdinand, he continued: 'I am not a gamester by profession, and am not sufficiently skilful to enter the lists against a man who makes gaming his study and knows well how to assist his luck. I hold such play dishonourable, and the man who practises it guilty of dishonourable conduct.'
"This was followed by dead silence throughout the room. All eyes were riveted upon Ferdinand, who stood by the card-table ghastly pale, biting his lips. He replied not a word, but gathered in the money he had won with a trembling hand and left the room. His comrades gave way before him, seeming to avoid him as he passed out from among them.
"When I heard such disgraceful words applied to my brother I grew almost wild with rage. I was on the point of rushing upon his insulter, but a friend restrained me. 'You can do nothing, Heydeck,' he whispered in my ear. 'Your brother's honour is lost if he leaves you to defend it.'
"I saw that he was right. It was hard to bridle my fury, but I did it. I followed Ferdinand, and overtook him near his lodgings. 'I am your second,' I said to him.
"He made no reply, and, as I looked at him as we passed beneath a street-lamp, I saw his lips quiver spasmodically; his cheeks were ashen, his eyes without lustre; he looked fearfully.