I saw there was an understanding between them, but, as usual, I said nothing. Blanche announced the news to me first—^it was just a week before we parted: "II a du chance," she babbled. "Granny really is ill this time, and certainly will die. Mr. Astley has sent a telegram. You must admit that the General is her heir, anjnvay, and even if he were not, he would not interfere with me in an5^thing. In the first place, he has his pension, and in the second place, he will live in a back room and will be perfectly happy. I shall be 'Madame le G6n6rale'. I shall get into a good set" (Blanche was continually dreaming of this), "in the end I shall be a Russian landowner, j'tmrai im chateau, des mmtjiks, et puis j'awrai topjours mo<tp million."
"Well, what if he begins to be jealous, begins to insist ... on goodness knows what^—do you understand?"
"Oh, no, now, non, non! How dare he! I have taken precautions, you needn't be afraid. I have even naade him sign some lOUs for Albert. The least thing—and he will be arrested; and he won't dare!"
"Well, marry him . . ."
The marriage was celebrated without any great p>omp; it was a quiet family affair. Albert was invited and a few other intimate friends. Hortense, Cleopatra and company were studiously excluded. The bridegroom was extremely interested in his position. Blanche herself tied his cravat with her own hands, and pomaded his head: and in his swallow-tailed coat with his white tie he looked tres ommne il faut.
"II est pomiamt ires comme il ftmt," Blanche herself observed to me, coming out of the General's room, as though the idea that the General was tres comme U fmd was a surprise even to her. Though I assisted at the whole affair as an idle spectator, yet I took so little interest in the details that I have to a great extent forgotten the course of events. I only remember that Blanche turned out not to be called "de Cominges", and her mamma not to be Ja veutue "Cominges", but "du Placet". Why they had been both "de Cominges" till then, I don't know. But the General remained very much pleased with that, and "du Placet" pleased him, in fact, better than "de Cominges". On the morning of the wedding, fully dressed for the part, he kept walking to and fro in the drawing-room, repeating to himself with a grave and important air, "Mile. Blanche du Placet! Blanche du Placet, du Placet! . . . and his countenance beamed with a certain complacency. At church, before the moire, and at the wedding breakfast at home, he was not oniy^^jByful but proud. There was a change in both of them. Blanche, too, had an air of peculiar dignity.
"I shall have to behave myself quite differently now," she said to me, perfectly seriously: "mads vois-tu, I never thought of one very horrid thing: I even fancy, to this day, I can't learn my surname. Zagoryansky, Zagozj^nsky, Madame la Wn^rale de Sago—Sago, ces diables de noms russes, enfin madame h gdndrale a quartwze consomnis! Comme c'est agreaible, n'est-ce pas?"
At last we parted, and Blanche, that silly Blanche, positively shed tears when she said good-bye to me. "Tu itais bon enfani," she said, whimpering. "Je te croyais bite et tu en anms I'dr.
but it suits you." And, pressing my hand at parting, she suddenly cried, "Attends!" rushed to her boudoir and, two minutes later, brought me a banknote for two thousand francs. That I should never have believed possible I "It may be of use to you. You may be a very learned owbchitei, but you are an awfully stupid man. I am not going to give you more than two thousand, for you'll lose it gambling, anjnvay. Well, good-bye 1 Noiis serons Umjcmrs bon amis, and if you win, be sure to come to me ageiin, 0t ti* seras hemrewc!"
I had five hundred francs left of my own. I had besides a splendid watch that cost a thousand francs, some diamond studs, and so on, so that I could go on a good time longer without anxiety. I am sta3dng in this little town on purpose to collect myself, and, above all, I am waiting for Mr. Astley. I have learnt for a fact that he will pass through the town and stay here for twenty-four hours on business. I shall find out about everything: and then—^then I shall go straight to Homburg. I am not going to Roulettenburg; not till next year anyway. They say it is a bad omen to try your luck twice running at the same tables; and Homburg is the real place for play.
CHAPTER XVII
IT is a year and eight months since I looked at these notes, and only now in sadness and dejection it has occurred to me to read them through. So I stopped then at my going to Homburg. My God! With what a light heart, comparatively speaking, I wrote those last lines! Though not with a light heart exactly, but with a sort of self-confidence, with undaunted hopes I Had I any doubt of m5^self ? And now more than a year and a half has passed, and I am, to my own mind, far worse than a beggar 1 Yes, what is being a beggar? A beggar is nothing! I have simply ruined myself! However, there is nothing I can compare myself with, and there is no need to give myself a moral lecture! Nothing could be stupider than moral reflections at this date! Oh, self-satisfied people, with what proud satisfaction these prattlers prepare to deliver their lectures! If only they knew how thoroughly I understand the loathsomeness of my present position, they would not be able to bring their tongues to reprimand me. Why, what, what can they tell me that I do not
know? And is that the point? The point is t hat^oa£.tanurf the wheel, and all will be changedTand those very moralists will be the first (I am convinced of that) to come up to congratulate me with friendly jests. And they will not all turn away from me as they do now. But, hang them all I What am I now? Zero. What may I be to-morrow ? To-morrow I may rise from the dead and begin to live again 1 There are stiU the makings of a man in me.
I did, in fact, go to Homburg then, but . . . afterwards I went to Roulettenburg again, and to Spa. I have even been in Baden, where I went as valet to the councillor Gintse, a scoundrel, who was my master here. Yes, I was a lackey for five whole months! I got a place immediately after coming out of prison. (I was sent to prison in Roulettenburg for a debt I made here.) Someone, I don't know who, paid my debt—who was it? Was it Mr. Astley? Pohna? I don't know, but the debt was paid; two hundred thalers in all, and I was set free. What could I do? I entered the service of this Gintse. He is a young man and frivolous, he Uked to be idle, and I could read and write in three languages. At first I went into his service as a sort of secretary at tiiirty guldens a month; but I ended by becoming a regular valet: he had not the means to keep a secretary; and he lowered my wages; I had nowhere to go, 1 remained—and in that way became a lackey by my own doing. I had not enough to eat or to drink in his service, but on the other hand, in five months I saved up seventy gulden. One evening in Baden, however, I aimounced to him that I intended parting from him; the same evening I went to roulette. Oh, how my heart beat! No, it was not money that I wanted. All tbat I wanted then was that next day all these Gintses, all these ober-kelhters, all these magnificent Baden ladies—that they might be all talking about me, repeating my story, wondering at me, admiring me, praising me, and doing homage to my new success. All these are childish dreams and desires, but . . . who knows, perhaps I should meet Polina again, too, I should tell her, and she would see that I was above all these stupid ups and downs of fate. . . . Oh, it was not money that was dear to me I I knew I should fling it away to some Blanche again and should drive in Paris again for three weeks with a pair of my own horses, costing sixteen thousand francs. I know for certain that I am not mean; I beUeve that I am not even a spendthrift— and yet with what a tremor, with what a thrill at my heart, I hear the croupier's cry: trente et tm. rouge, impair et passe.