"All right," replied the reckless youth. "You may do as you like; even if the governor disinherits me I can make my fortune by stopping here. And as to leaving me, go by all means; I shall get on very well with a French valet." It was dreadful. Richard grew happier and happier every day, as the golden flood flowed in upon him, but also extremely hectic. He passed the whole day at the tables, and the want of air and exercise, and, still more, the intense excitement which possessed him, began to have the most serious effect. That prescription of "seeing the world," and "escaping from his dull surroundings," was having a very different result from what had been expected. "The paths of glory lead but to the grave"; the young Englishman and his luck were the talk of all Monte Carlo, and he enjoyed his notoriety very much; but, as the poor butler plaintively observed, what was the good of that when Master Richard was "killing himself"? How the news was received at the Court I had no means of judging, for the squire kept a rigid silence, except that he had long conferences with my father; and Lady Jane kept her room. It was indeed a very sore subject. The squire wanted to start for Monte Carlo at once; but he was singularly insular, detested travel, and in truth was very unfit for such a "cutting-out expedition" as was contemplated. He waited, half out of his mind with anxiety, but in hopes of a better report;what he hoped for was that luck would turn, and Richard lose every shilling. The very reverse of this, however, took place; Richard won more and more. He would come home to his hotel in the evening with a porter carrying his gains. His portmanteau was full of napoleons. It was characteristic of him that he never thought of banking it. One evening he came in with very bright eyes, but a most shrunken and cadaverous face.
"This has been my best day of all, Johnny," he said. "See, I have won two thousand pounds; and you shall have a hundred of it." But Maitland refused to have anything to do with such ill-gotten gains, for which, too, his young master was sacrificing his health, and perhaps his life. Still--though this did not strike Richard till afterward--he could not help regarding the great heap of gold with considerable interest. Added to the lad's previous gains, the amount was now very large indeed--more than five thousand pounds.
"I should really think, Master Richard, as you had now won enough."
"Enough? Certainly not. I have not broken the bank yet. I mean to do that before I've done with it, Johnny."
"That will be after you've killed yourself," said honest John.
"Well, then I shall die /rich/," was the reckless rejoinder. Richard, who was too exhausted for repose, tossed and tumbled on his bed for hours, and eventually dropped into a heavy slumber, and slept far into the next morning. He awoke feeling very unwell, but his chief anxiety was lest he should miss the opening of the tables; he was always the first to begin. He rang his bell violently for Maitland. There was no reply, and when he rang again, one of the hotel servants came up.
"Where is my man?" he inquired.
"Monsieur's man-servant took monsieur's luggage to the railway-station; he is gone by the early train to Turin."
"Gone to Turin with my luggage?"
"Yes, with the two portmanteaus--very heavy ones." Richard got out of bed, and dragged his weary limbs into the dressing-room, an inner apartment, where the portmanteaus were kept for safety. They were both gone.
"What train did the scoundrel go by? Where is my watch? Why, the villain has taken that too! Send for the police! No; there is no time to be lost--send a telegram. Why, he has not even left me enough money to pay a telegram!" All his small change was gone. Honest John had taken everything; he had not left his young master a single sixpence. At this revelation of the state of affairs, poor Richard, weakened as he was by his long excitement, threw himself on the bed and burst into tears. The attendant, to whom, as usual, he had been liberal, was affected by an emotion so strange in an Englishman.
"Monsieur must not fret; the thief will be caught and the money restored. It will be well, perhaps to tell the /maitre d'hotel/." The master of the hotel appeared with a very grave face. He was desolated to hear of the misfortune that had befallen his young guest. Perhaps there was not quite so much taken as had been reported.
"I tell you it's all gone; more than five thousand pounds, and my watch and chain; I have not half a franc in my possession."
"That is unfortunate indeed," said the /maitre d'hotel/, looking graver than ever, "because there is my bill to settle."
"Oh, hang your bill!" cried Richard. "/That/ will be all right. I must telegraph to my father at once."
