When Christabel brought out those two packs of cards, and shuffled them, and handed them round, and tossed them about, Gibbs’s weak eyes began to sparkle with unwonted fire.
It was quite delightful to see how clever Christabel was with those bits of pasteboard. The audience might cut them as they pleased, and think of what card they liked, she could always present them with the counterfeit of their thoughts. Shuffle them as they might, in two or three cuts she would bring all the suits together: blindfold her, and she could pick out any card that was mentioned. She did twenty clever things with the cards; not the ordinary showman’s tricks—not simply the innocent jokes which mark the sport in drawing-rooms at Christmas time; but genuine clever unaccountable tricks which elicited from Mr. Jefferson Crawley, otherwise Shuffleton Gibbs, frequent exclamations of “bravo, bravo.”
It was not the mere tricks that enraptured Mr. Crawley either; but the dexterous way in which Christabel manipulated the cards and moved any number of them to that part of the pack where it was necessary to her success they should be. Dealing with ordinary players, and with experienced players too, she could evidently turn up almost any card she pleased.
This was the leading thought that cropped up in the mind of Mr. Crawley. He envied the girl her dexterity, her lithe quick fingers, and then he thought what a fortune she might be to any one who could give her an education worthy of her powers.
When the performance was at an end, he waited until the magician emerged from behind the curtain, whereupon he complimented him upon his powers, and desired to be introduced to his wonderful daughter.
The showman with the aliases, looked inquiringly into the face of the gentleman with the same possessions. Gibbs thought he understood the expression.
“I have an interest in a certain exhibition of some importance, sir,” said Gibbs, drawing himself up to his full height and forcing as much assumption of virtuous circumspection into his bleary eyes as possible, “and I have also a very slight acquaintance with a gentleman to whom you directed one Dibble to write requesting a loan.”
“Your humble servant,” said the showman. “Christabel, when you have dressed—this is our last performance to-night, sir,—when you have dressed, here’s a gent wishes to see you.”
Momus hereupon came out to see the “gent,” making her best bow to Gibbs, who took no notice of the “dawg,” but went on talking to the magician.
“Is it only fifty pounds you require for the proposed extension of this exhibition, haw?” said Gibbs.