[p 178]
XVI
It is almost impossible for me to describe the feverish, irritated and contradictory state of mind in which I now began to pass my days. With the absolute fixity of my fortunes, my humours became more changeful than the wind, and I was never absolutely contented for two hours together. I joined in every sort of dissipation common to men of the day, who with the usual inanity of noodles, plunged into the filth of life merely because to be morally dirty was also at the moment fashionable and much applauded by society. I gambled recklessly, solely for the reason that gambling was considered by many leaders of the ‘upper ten’ as indicative of ‘manliness’ and ‘showing grit.’
“I hate a fellow who grudges losing a few pounds at play,”—said one of these ‘distinguished’ titled asses to me once—“It shows such a cowardly and currish disposition.”
Guided by this ‘new’ morality, and wishing to avoid the possibility of being called “cowardly and currish,” I indulged in baccarat and other ruinous games almost every night, willingly losing the ‘few pounds’ which in my case meant a few hundreds, for the sake of my occasional winnings, which placed a number of ‘noble’ rakes and blue-blooded blacklegs in my power for ‘debts of honour,’ which are supposed to be more strictly attended to and more punctually paid than any debts in the world, but which, as far as I am concerned, are still owing. I also betted heavily, on everything that could be made the subject of a bet,—and not to be behind my peers [p 179] in ‘style’ and ‘knowledge of the world’ I frequented low houses and allowed a few half-nude brandy-soaked dancers and vulgar music-hall
‘artistes’ to get a couple of thousand pounds worth of jewels out of me, because this sort of thing was called ‘seeing life’ and was deemed part of a ‘gentleman’s’ diversion. Heavens!—what beasts we all were, I and my aristocratic boon companions!—what utterly worthless, useless, callous scoundrels!—and yet,—we associated with the best and the highest in the land;—the fairest and noblest ladies in London received us in their houses with smiles and softly-worded flatteries—we—whose presence reeked with vice; we, ‘young men of fashion’ whom, if he had known our lives as they were, an honest cobbler working patiently for daily bread, might have spat upon, in contempt and indignation that such low rascals should be permitted to burden the earth! Sometimes, but very seldom, Rimânez joined our gambling and music-hall parties, and on such occasions I noticed that he, as it were, ‘let himself go’ and became the wildest of us all. But though wild he was never coarse,—as we were; his deep and mellow laughter had a sonorous richness in it that was totally unlike the donkey’s ‘hee-haw’ of our ‘cultured’ mirth,—his manners were never vulgar; and his fluent discourse on men and things, now witty and satirical, now serious almost to pathos, strangely affected many of those who heard him talk, myself most of all. Once, I remember, when we were returning late from some foolish carouse,—I with three young sons of English peers, and Rimânez walking beside us,—we came upon a poorly clad girl sobbing and clinging to the iron railing outside a closed church door.
“Oh God!” she wailed—“Oh dear God! Do help me!”
One of my companions seized her by the arm with a lewd jest, when all at once Rimânez stepped between.
“Leave her alone!” he said sternly—“Let her find God if she can!”
The girl looked up at him terrified, her eyes streaming with [p 180] tears, and he dropped two or three gold pieces into her hand. She broke out crying afresh.
“Oh God bless you!” she cried wildly—“God bless you!”