THE OFFICERS’ MESS
The place was Chanidigot, in British East India. The blinding brightness of the hot day had been immediately followed, almost without the transition to twilight, by the darkness of evening, which brought with it a refreshing coolness, allowing all living things to breathe again freely. In the wide plain, which served as the encampment ground for the English regiment of lancers, all was alive again with the setting of the sun. The soldiers, freed from the toil of duty, enjoyed themselves, according to their ideas and dispositions, either in playing cards, singing, or merrily drinking. The large tent, used as a messroom by the officers, also showed signs of life. Dinner was over, and a number of gentlemen sat down to a game of cards, as was their daily custom. But here the amusement was of a less harmless character than in the case of the private soldiers. For not innocent bridge, but “poker” was the order of the day, a game much affected in America and also in some parts of England, a game which is solely determined by chance together with a certain histrionic bluffing on the part of the players, and the stakes were rather high. It was mostly played by the younger gentlemen, who could not do without their nerve-tonic in the evenings, in the monotony of camp life. The older men sat apart at tables, talking and drinking whisky-and-soda, and smoking their short pipes. Amongst them there was also a gentleman in civilian dress. The hospitality with which he was treated showed that he was not one of the officers of the regiment, but their guest. The sound of his name—he was addressed as Mr. Heideck—would have betrayed his German origin, even had his appearance not proclaimed it. He was of but medium height, but athletic in build. His erect, soldiery bearing and the elasticity of his movements plainly betokened his excellent health and considerable bodily strength. A foreigner can hardly present better credentials to an Englishman than these qualities. Perhaps, more than anything else, it was his distinguished appearance, in conjunction with his amiable and thoroughly gentlemanly bearing, that had so quickly opened the usually very exclusive officers’ circle to the young German, with his clever, energetic features, and his honest blue eyes.
Judged by his profession he did not, perhaps, belong to their society, according to the ideas of some of these gentlemen. It was known that he was travelling for a large commercial house in Hamburg. His uncle, the head of the house, imported indigo. And since the Maharajah of Chanidigot was the owner of very extensive indigo fields, young Heideck had been detained here a whole fortnight by commercial negotiations with the prince. He had succeeded, during this time, in gaining the lively sympathies of all, but particularly of the older British officers. In Indian garrisons every European is welcome. Heideck was also invited to those social functions at which the ladies of the regiment were present.
He had always refused an invitation to cards with polite firmness, and to-day also he was at most an uninterested and unconcerned spectator.
Presently the door of the tent opened and a tall, but extremely slim officer joined the circle of his comrades, jingling his spurs with a self-conscious, almost haughty attitude. He was in undress uniform and talked to one of the gentlemen, who addressed him as Captain Irwin, about just returning from a fatiguing ride for the inspection of an outpost. He demanded from one of the orderlies in attendance a refreshing drink, the favourite whisky-and-soda, then he drew close to the gaming-table.
“Room for a little one?” he asked. And place was readily made for him.
For a little while the game of poker went on in the same quiet way as before. But suddenly something extraordinary must have happened. All the gentlemen, except Captain Irwin and one of the players, laid down their cards, and the unpleasantly penetrating voice of Captain Irwin was heard.
“You are an old fox, Captain McGregor! But I am aware of your tricks and cannot be taken in by them. Therefore, once more, six hundred rupees!”
Every poker-player knows that, so far from being considered dishonourable, it is a chief sign of skill in the game, where each man plays for his own hand, for one to deceive the rest as to the value of the cards he holds. The name of “bluff,” which has been given to this game, is itself sufficient to show that everyone has to try his best to puzzle his adversaries.
But this time Irwin appeared to have met his match in McGregor. For the Captain replied calmly: “Six hundred and fifty. But I advise you not to see me, Irwin.”
“Seven hundred.”
“Seven hundred and fifty.”
“Thousand!” shouted Irwin with resounding voice, and leant back in his chair smiling, as if certain of victory.
“You had better consider what you are about,” said McGregor. “I have given you warning.”
“A convenient way to haul in seven hundred and fifty rupees. I repeat: A thousand rupees.”
“One thousand and fifty!”
“Two thousand!”
All the gentlemen present in the tent had risen and stood round the two players, who, their cards concealed in their hands, watched each other with sharp glances. Hermann Heideck, who had stepped behind Irwin, noticed on the right hand of the Captain a magnificent diamond ring. But he also perceived, by the way the bright sparkle of the stone quivered, how the gambler’s fingers trembled.
Captain McGregor turned to his companions. “I take the gentlemen to witness that I have advised my comrade Irwin not to see me at six hundred.”
“To the devil with your advice!” Irwin interrupted almost furiously. “Am I a boy? Will you see me at two thousand, McGregor, or will you not?”
“Very well, since you insist upon it—three thousand.”
“Five thousand.”
“Five thousand five hundred.”
“Ten thousand.”
One of the higher officers, Major Robertson, laid his hand lightly upon the shoulder of the rash gambler.
“That is too much, Irwin. I do not care to interfere in these things, and since you do not belong to my regiment, I can only speak to you as a comrade, not as a superior. But I am afraid you will be in difficulties if you lose.”
Angrily the Captain fired up—
“What do you mean by that, sir? If your words are intended to express a doubt as to my solvency—”
“Well! well—I did not mean to offend you. After all, you must know best yourself what you are justified in doing.”
Irwin repeated with a defiant air—
“Ten thousand! I am waiting for your answer, McGregor.”
The adversary remained as calm as before.
“Ten thousand five hundred.”
“Twenty thousand!”
“Are you drunk, Irwin?” whispered the young Lieutenant Temple into the Captain’s ear, from the other side. But he only glanced round with a furious look.
“Not more than you. Leave me alone, if you please.”
“Twenty-one thousand,” came the calm response from the other side of the table.
A short, awkward pause followed. Captain Irwin nervously gnawed his small dark moustache. Then he raised his slim figure and called out—
“Fifty thousand!”
Once more the Major considered it his duty to endeavour to stop the game.
“I object,” he said. “It has been always a rule that the pool cannot be raised by more than a thousand rupees at a time. This limit has long since been passed.”
A rude, hoarse laugh escaped Irwin’s lips.
“It appears you want to save me, Major. But I am not in need of any saviour. If I lose I pay, and I don’t understand why the gentlemen are so concerned on my behalf.”
The Major, who at last saw that all his good endeavours were misplaced, shrugged his shoulders. Lieutenant Temple, however, thought he had a good idea, and with an apparently unintentional, though violent, movement pushed against the light camp-table, and sent ashtrays, bottles, glasses, and cards flying on the ground. But he did not gain anything by this, for the two players held their cards firmly in their hands, and did not allow this contretemps to disturb their sangfroid for a single moment.
“Fifty-one,” said McGregor.
“Sixty.”
“Sixty-one.”
“Seventy.”
“Seventy-one.”
“Eighty.”
“Eighty-one.”
“A lakh!” cried Irwin, who was now pale from excitement.
“Really?” asked McGregor calmly, “that is a fine bid. A lakh—that is, reckoned at the present rate of exchange, 6,500 pounds sterling. You will be a wealthy man, Irwin, if you win. Now, then, I see you.”
With trembling fingers, but with a triumphant look, the Captain laid down his cards.
“Straight flush,” he said hoarsely.
“Yes, a strong hand,” replied the other, smiling. “But which is your highest card?”
“The king, as you see for yourself.”
“That’s a pity, for I have also, as it happens, a straight flush, but mine is up to the ace.”
Slowly, one after the other, he laid down his cards—ace of hearts, king of hearts, queen of hearts, knave of hearts, ten of hearts. One single exclamation of surprise came from the lips of the bystanders. None of them had ever seen the coincidence of such an extraordinary sequence.
Captain Irwin sat motionless for a moment, fixing his unsteady eyes straight upon his adversary’s cards. Then he suddenly sprang up with a wild laugh, and left the tent with jingling steps.
“This loss spells ruin for Irwin,” said the Major gravely. “He is not in a position to pay such a sum.”
“With his wife’s assistance he could,” chimed in another; “but it would eat up pretty well the rest of her fortune.”
“I call you, gentlemen, to witness that it is not my fault,” said McGregor, who thought he perceived a certain degree of reproach in the faces of the bystanders; but all agreed with him.
Lieutenant Temple, who alone of all those present kept up a certain superficial friendship with Irwin, remarked, “Somebody must go after him to see that he does not do something foolish in his first excitement.”
He turned as if to leave the room, but a call from McGregor stopped him.
“It will be no use, Temple, unless you are able to calm him in some way or other. In my opinion there is only one thing to do. He must be persuaded that the whole affair is only a joke, and that the cards had been shuffled beforehand.”
The Lieutenant went back to the table.
“The suggestion of this way of putting it does you honour, Captain; only I have my doubts if any of us would have the courage to go to him with this manifest lie.”
The silence of the others appeared to confirm this doubt, when the decisive voice of the German guest interrupted with—
“Will you entrust me, gentlemen, with this mission? I know Captain Irwin only slightly, it is true, and should have no reason to interfere with his private concerns; but I hear that it is his wife’s property which has been at stake here, and as I consider Mrs. Irwin a very honourable lady I would gladly do my best to save her from such a heavy pecuniary loss.”
McGregor held out his hand.
“You would place me under a great obligation, Mr. Heideck, if you could succeed in this matter, but I warn you that there is no time to lose.”
Heideck quickly left the tent, but when he had come out into the delicious moonlight night the first thing that met his eye was Captain Irwin, some twenty yards distant, standing by his horse. The servant held the animal by the bridle, and Captain Irwin was about to mount. On coming nearer he saw the servant move off and perceived that Irwin held a revolver in his hand. With a quick motion he seized the officer’s wrist.
“One moment, Captain Irwin.”
Irwin started, turned round, and looked with fury at Heideck.
“I beg your pardon,” said the German, “but you are labouring under a mistake, Captain. The game was all a jest; they were playing a trick upon you. The cards were arranged beforehand.”
Irwin made no reply, but whistled to his servant and went back into the tent, revolver still in hand, without a single word to Heideck. Heideck followed. Both gentlemen stepped up to the card-table, and Irwin turned to McGregor.
“You tell me the game was all a got-up thing, do you?” he asked.
“As a lesson to you, Irwin—you who always plunge as a madman, and imagine yourself a good player, when you have not the necessary cold blood for gambling.”
“Well,” said Irwin, “that is a story that I will take care goes the round of all the garrisons in India, as an instance of kind comrade-like feeling, so that everyone may be warned against coming along here and being induced to take a hand. I never in my life came across a more despicable story; but it certainly is a lesson for me, that only honourable persons should be—”
“No, Captain Irwin,” said McGregor, standing bolt upright, levelling at his insulter a withering look from his great blue eyes, “you should rather think of your poor wife, whom you would have made a pauper if this game had not been all a hoax.”
Irwin reeled back; the revolver fell from his grasp.
“What,” he gasped—“what do you mean? It was, then, no joke, after all. I, then, really lost the money? Oh, you—you—But what do you take me for? Be quite certain that I will pay. But,” he cried, collecting himself, “I should like to know what the real truth is, after all. I ask this question of you all, and call you rogues and liars if you do not tell me the truth. Have I only really been played with, or has the game been a straightforward one?”
“Captain Irwin,” replied the Major, advancing towards him, “I, as the senior, tell you, in the name of our comrades, that your behaviour would have been unpardonable unless a sort of madness had seized you. The game was a straightforward one, and only the generosity of Captain McGregor—”
Irwin did not wait for the conclusion of the sentence, but, with a bound, was again outside the tent.