Many eyes were now watching him. Used as he was to the world and to misfortune, he was not successful in his attempt to bear his loss with a show of indifference. The motion of his head, the position of his hands, the tone of his whistling, all told the tale. Even the unimpassioned croupiers furtively cast an eye after him, and a very big Guard, in a cocked hat, and uniform, and sword, who hitherto had hardly been awake, seemed evidently to be interested by his movements. If there is to be a tragedy at these places,—and tragedies will sometimes occur,—it is always as well that the tragic scene should be as far removed as possible from the salons, in order that the public eye should not suffer.
Lady Glencora and Alice had left their places, and had shrunk back, almost behind a pillar. “Is it he, in truth?” Alice asked.
“In very truth,” said Glencora. “What can I do? Can I do anything? Look at him, Alice. If he were to destroy himself, what should I do then?”
Burgo, conscious that he was the regarded of all eyes, turned round upon his heel and again walked the length of the salon. He knew well that he had not a franc left in his possession, but still he laughed and still he whistled. His companion, whoever he might be, had slunk away from him, not caring to share the notoriety which now attended him.
“What shall I do, Alice?” said Lady Glencora, with her eyes still fixed on him who had been her lover.
“Tell Mr Palliser,” whispered Alice.
Lady Glencora immediately ran up to her husband, and took him away from Mr Grey. Rapidly she told her story,—with such rapidity that Mr Palliser could hardly get in a word. “Do something for him;—do, do. Unless I know that something is done, I shall die. You needn’t be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” said Mr Palliser.
Lady Glencora, as she went on quickly, got hold of her husband’s hand, and caressed it. “You are so good,” said she. “Don’t let him out of your sight. There; he is going. I will go home with Mr Grey. I will be ever so good; I will, indeed. You know what he’ll want, and for my sake you’ll let him have it. But don’t let him gamble. If you could only get him home to England, and then do something. You owe him something, Plantagenet; do you not?”
“If money can do anything, he shall have it.”
“God bless you, dearest! I shall never see him again; but if you could save him! There;—he is going now. Go;—go.” She pushed him forward, and then retreating, put her arm within Mr Grey’s, still keeping her eye upon her husband.
Burgo, when he first got to the door leading out of the salon, had paused a moment, and, turning round, had encountered the big gendarme close to him. “Well, old Buffer, what do you want?” said he, accosting the man in English. The big gendarme simply walked on through the door, and said nothing. Then Burgo also passed out, and Mr Palliser quickly went after him. They were now in the large front salon, from whence the chief door of the building opened out upon the steps. Through this door Burgo went without pausing, and Mr Palliser went after him. They both walked to the end of the row of buildings, and then Burgo, leaving the broad way, turned into a little path which led up through the trees to the hills. That hillside among the trees is a popular resort at Baden, during the day; but now, at nine in the evening, it was deserted. Palliser did not press on the other man, but followed him, and did not accost Burgo till he had thrown himself on the grass beneath a tree.
“You are in trouble, I fear, Mr Fitzgerald,” said Mr Palliser, as soon as he was close at Burgo’s feet.
“We will go home. Mr Palliser has something to do,” said Lady Glencora to Mr Grey, as soon as the two men had disappeared from her sight.
“Is that a friend of Mr Palliser?” said Mr Grey.
“Yes;—that is, he knows him, and is interested about him. Alice, shall we go home? Oh! Mr Grey, you must not ask any questions. He,—Mr Palliser, will tell you everything when he sees you,—that is, if there is anything to be told.” Then they all went home, and soon separated for the night. “Of course I shall sit up for him,” said Lady Glencora to Alice, “but I will do it in my own room. You can tell Mr Grey, if you like.” But Alice told nothing to Mr Grey, nor did Mr Grey ask any questions.
Chapter LXXVI.
The Landlord’s Bill
“You are in trouble, Mr Fitzgerald, I fear,” said Mr Palliser, standing over Burgo as he lay upon the ground. They were now altogether beyond the gaslights, and the evening was dark. Burgo, too, was lying with his face to the ground, expecting that the footsteps which he had heard would pass by him.
“Who is that?” said he, turning round suddenly; but still he was not at once able to recognize Mr Palliser, whose voice was hardly known to him.
“Perhaps I have been wrong in following you,” said Mr Palliser, “but I thought you were in distress, and that probably I might help you. My name is Palliser.”
“Plantagenet Palliser?” said Burgo, jumping up on to his legs and looking close into the other’s face. “By heavens! it is Plantagenet Palliser! Well, Mr Palliser, what do you want of me?”
“I want to be of some use to you, if I can. I and my wife saw you leave the gaming-table just now.”
“Is she here too?”
“Yes;—she is here. We are going home, but chance brought us up to the salon. She seemed to think that you are in distress, and that I could help you. I will, if you will let me.”
Mr Palliser, during the whole interview, felt that he could afford to be generous. He knew that he had no further cause for fear. He had no lingering dread of this poor creature who stood before him. All that feeling was over, though it was as yet hardly four months since he had been sent back by Mrs Marsham to Lady Monk’s house to save his wife, if saving her were yet possible.
“So she is here, is she;—and saw me there when I staked my last chance? I should have had over twenty thousand francs now, if the cards had stood to me.”
“The cards never do stand to any one, Mr Fitzgerald.”
“Never;—never,—never!” said Burgo. “At any rate, they never did to me. Nothing ever does stand to me.”
“If you want twenty thousand francs,—that’s eight hundred pounds, I think—I can let you have it without any trouble.”
“The devil you can!”
“Oh, yes. As I am travelling with my family—” I wonder whether Mr Palliser considered himself to be better entitled to talk of his family than he had been some three or four weeks back—”As I am travelling with my family, I have been obliged to carry large bills with me, and I can accommodate you without any trouble.”
There was something pleasant in this, which made Burgo Fitzgerald laugh. Mr Palliser, the husband of Lady Glencora M’Cluskie, and the heir of the Duke of Omnium happening to have money with him! As if Mr Palliser could not bring down showers of money in any quarter of the globe by simply holding up his hand. And then to talk of accommodating him,—Burgo Fitzgerald, as though it were simply a little matter
