“And we have only ten. Heigh ho! I tell you I don’t think I can stick it out.”
“I quite understand. Try to endure it two weeks more and then we’ll see.”
Hugh continued to accompany the professor and to watch him with monotonous certainty make his seventy or eighty thousand francs a day. His association with the old man had made him quite a celebrated character. He shone with a reflected radiance, a moon to the old man’s sun. He was supposed to be a partner, a sharer in the colossal fortune, the professor’s heir and successor.
Many of the players were leaving Monte Carlo, for the season was over. Mr. Tope had returned to his Kentish cottage and his roses. The Calderbrooks, not being able to afford the mountains, had convinced themselves that Monte was even more charming in summer than in winter. The father looked tired, but amiably acquiesced.
“Of course,” said Mrs. Calderbrook, “we don’t promise to stay. If we have a bit of luck at the tables, we might take a month or two at Chamounix.”
The tall Brazilian with the spade-shaped beard was still a dominating figure in the Rooms. He wore great, horn-rimmed spectacles of a yellowish colour and walked up and down in an impeccable costume of white serge, his hands behind his back, his carriage that of deliberate dignity. He looked at the women harder than was necessary, though he repulsed all their efforts to speak with him. Once Hugh saw him turn to stare at the tall female in grey. In spite of the growing heat she continued to wear her veil and remained as mysterious as ever. She came less frequently, but still seemed to have lots of money.
Of the old crowd there remained only MacTaggart and Mr. Gimp and they made their exit from the scene in a very sensational manner.
4.
As MacTaggart had already paid him two thousand francs, Hugh insisted on cancelling the debt between them. MacTaggart was over eight thousand francs ahead, and continued to play with hundred franc counters. Curiously enough, his luck began to leave him as soon as he gambled entirely for himself.
“It’s fair playin’ auld Harry wi’ ma nerves,” he said. “The ither day I near fented at the table. After a’ they years, I’m thinkin’, I’ll hea tae gie it up. Ma system’s willin’ but the flesh is weak. I’m gettin’ that every time I put a stake on the table ma hert dings like an alarm clock. An’ ma temper. I don’t know whit I’m no’ capable o’ daein’ at times. It’s as if I had a kind o’ a brain-storm. There’s whiles I’m fair feart for masel’. I often think that if I wis once mair back in ma wee shop in Strathbungo, I’d never want tae see a roulette wheel for the rest o’ ma days.”