Morley Ernstein; or, the Tenants of the Heart

by G. P. R. James

"Not exactly so," replied the old nobleman, "though I always think that mineral waters are medicines with which nature herself furnishes us for almost all diseases, if we do but apply them rightly. It is now many years ago since I myself received great benefit from these waters. I had just suffered a deep and terrible affliction which, through the mind, had preyed upon my constitution, and no one expected that I should ever recover. I was then a younger son, seeing life, as it is called, in the Austrian service. I accordingly threw up my commission, and was returning home to die in England, little cared for by anybody, and, to say the truth, caring little for anybody myself? except, indeed, one who has also been snatched from me since, by the inexplicable decrees of God. I paused, however, at this very place; and though at that time I thought life a very valueless possession, and was prepared, like Cawdor, 'To throw away the dearest thing I owed, as 'twere a careless trifle,' I remained here for six weeks, and by so doing recovered health and life."

"And have you never had to curse the waters since?" asked Morley, gloomily, "and to wish that you had not tasted them?"

"No, my young friend," replied the old lord; "though I thought at that time, as you seem to think now; yet I have since had to bless them for affording me time to judge better of many things, and to learn submission to the will of the Almighty--nay more, for having left me to the enjoyment of many blessings, the calm sunshine of health and ease, and that degree of freshness of heart? notwithstanding some bitter sorrows and deep disappointments? which enables me still to feel many endearing affections, partaking, perhaps, less of the eager passions which are the portion of youth, but more of the permanent convictions of experience. I can now love worth," he continued, with a smile, "better than beauty, and seek in the companion of my later hours the friend rather than the mistress."

"I have been wrong, my lord," said Morley, "and gave way to a bitterness of spirit which I do not wish in general to indulge----"

At that moment Lieberg came up hastily, and spoke to his young companion in a low voice, saying--"Will you do me a favour, Morley? I know you hate play of all kinds, but I know also you do not care about losing a crown or two. The old Baroness Von L----, next whom you sat at dinner, is very anxious for a quotidian game of whist. She has pressed me into the service, and there is the old Prince of Naggerstein, but we cannot get a fourth, all we can do. Come, only sit down for one rubber. I hate that dull drivelling game as much as anybody, but I could not well refuse."

Morley rose and walked slowly to the table, feeling that it was utterly impossible he could take the slightest interest in any one of all the gambler's pursuits. In his eyes, rouge-et-noir was as stupid as whist, and whist as stupid as draughts. Of all the games that were ever invented, if he had been forced to choose one, it would probably have been marbles. He sat down to play, however: the old lady was charmed with his politeness; the Prince of Naggerstein was courtesy itself. Morley soon found that the stakes were enormously high, and that the two old opponents of Lieberg and himself were a couple of thorough-paced gamblers. Lieberg seemed to discover the fact at the same moment, and gave a warning look across the table towards Morley. He himself played well and carefully, but during the first rubber the young Englishman could not bend his attention sufficiently on the game, made several mistakes, and the two companions were losers of a very considerable sum.

"For Heaven's sake, Morley, be careful?" said Lieberg. "You have lost me five hundred louis by not playing up to my lead. We must have our revenge, however, for it is impossible to rise with such a loss as that. I understand the old lady's game now; only be careful, and we shall recover."

He spoke in English, which language the other two did not understand, and Morley, vexed with himself, continued at the table. He did now pay attention--nay, more, he became interested, eager. The dark bright eyes of Lieberg were fixed upon him sharply from the other side of the table, and Morley fancied that he read in them anxiety to see what he was about to play. It was, on the contrary, only to mark how far the gambling spirit of the place was getting a hold upon his mind. The scheme had been well arranged, and it was so far successful, that Morley felt that dangerous degree of excitement which he had never experienced before, the first symptoms of the growing disease--of that fell and terrible disease, which, when once it has taken full possession of any human being, never leaves him till it has destroyed him--the immedicable fever of the mind.

Once he raised his eyes from the table, and saw Lord Clavering standing opposite to him with a look of melancholy interest in his face. Morley averted his glance, and went on eagerly with the game, the impetuosity of his nature affecting him in this, as in all other pursuits, and carrying him on with a vehemence which he wished to restrain without being able. As his mind was clear and rapid, and his memory good, he played well now that he paid attention; Lieberg also managed his game with admirable skill, leading Morley on almost to the very last with the expectation of winning.

The end of the rubber was again approaching; Morley Ernstein had played, the Prince of Naggerstein had just made a trick; the result of the whole depended upon Lieberg's next card, and while he paused, as if in thought, Morley again lifted his eyes. Lord Clavering was still there, but another figure now stood beside him which made the young Englishman turn, for a moment, as pale as death. The next instant the blood rushed from his heart into his face and temples, he saw and understood nothing more of what had passed at the card-table, except that Lieberg had played, and that the game was lost.