Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 2).djvu/143

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The Story of a Game.
143

"I turned round at once, and instantly seized a hand, the hand of M. de Mertens, which held a note for a thousand francs, which he was taking from me.

"The face of the unfortunate man was convulsed.

"I exchanged a look with him, one only, and I saw something pass in his eyes, now enlarged by fright.

"'M. de Mertens is quite right,' I said, quite coolly, 'and I am surprised that anyone has dared to bring such an accusation against such a man as he; we are associates, and he has taken money for which he has need, that is all.'

"The explanations were brief. It was the first time that the individual who cried out had come to the Club, and he was not acquainted with M. de Mertens. The players, who were standing, were rather anxious; the new comer had seen a hand slip in the hat, and, believing that someone was stealing from me, had cried out. He made profuse apologies to M. de Mertens, whom all sympathised with on the deplorable incident caused by the foolishness of the impolitic individual.

"We then continued playing, and M. de Mertens went out.

"Three days passed, and I received no news from the young man. That he was not wishful to see me was quite natural. In saving him I had saved the posthumous honour of a brave soldier; but still I thought it strange that he should not have found some way of testifying his appreciation of my service.


"A lady was waiting."

"One evening I was just setting out to make some visits, when my orderly told me that a lady was waiting in the salon.

"She was a lady of about forty-five, a face calm and proud, with an honest look.

"'I am Madame de Mertens,' she said. 'My son has told me all, and I have come to thank you for having kept unsullied the honour of our name.'

"'Madame!'

"'My son was foolishly enamoured of a woman, who was always demanding money, and he has ruined himself for her; he has played, he has lost. You know the rest.'

"I was very sorry, for the trouble of this noble woman touched me deeply; she was standing before me, and the tears glistened in her dark eyes.

"'A folly of youth, Madame,' I stammered. 'I will see your son and talk to him.'

"She quietly shook her head.

"'You will not see him, Captain; he is engaged in the Infantry of Marines, and l came when he had departed."

III.

We had listened to Captain I——— without interruption; when he stopped there was a short silence.

"And the end, Captain? What has become of M. de Mertens?"

"He is dead, gentlemen. A few years ago I received a letter, which came from Kélung; a poor little letter, written with pale ink, on paper already yellow. It contained these lines:—

'I am seriously wounded . . . . Admiral Courbet has just brought me the cross . . . .