Eugene Pickering | Page 5

put it into his hand,
and bade him place it on a number of his own choosing. He was
evidently filled with a sort of delightful trouble; he enjoyed the
adventure, but he shrank from the hazard. I would have staked the coin
on its being his companion's last; for although she still smiled intently
as she watched his hesitation, there was anything but indifference in her
pale, pretty face. Suddenly, in desperation, he reached over and laid the
piece on the table. My attention was diverted at this moment by my
having to make way for a lady with a great many flounces, before me,
to give up her chair to a rustling friend to whom she had promised it;
when I again looked across at the lady in white muslin, she was
drawing in a very goodly pile of gold with her little blue-gemmed claw.
Good luck and bad, at the Homburg tables, were equally
undemonstrative, and this happy adventuress rewarded her young
friend for the sacrifice of his innocence with a single, rapid, upward
smile. He had innocence enough left, however, to look round the table
with a gleeful, conscious laugh, in the midst of which his eyes
encountered my own. Then suddenly the familiar look which had
vanished from his face flickered up unmistakably; it was the boyish
laugh of a boyhood's friend. Stupid fellow that I was, I had been
looking at Eugene Pickering!
Though I lingered on for some time longer he failed to recognise me.
Recognition, I think, had kindled a smile in my own face; but, less
fortunate than he, I suppose my smile had ceased to be boyish. Now
that luck had faced about again, his companion played for herself--
played and won, hand over hand. At last she seemed disposed to rest on
her gains, and proceeded to bury them in the folds of her muslin.
Pickering had staked nothing for himself, but as he saw her prepare to
withdraw he offered her a double napoleon and begged her to place it.
She shook her head with great decision, and seemed to bid him put it
up again; but he, still blushing a good deal, pressed her with awkward
ardour, and she at last took it from him, looked at him a moment
fixedly, and laid it on a number. A moment later the croupier was
raking it in. She gave the young man a little nod which seemed to say,
"I told you so;" he glanced round the table again and laughed; she left
her chair, and he made a way for her through the crowd. Before going
home I took a turn on the terrace and looked down on the esplanade.

The lamps were out, but the warm starlight vaguely illumined a dozen
figures scattered in couples. One of these figures, I thought, was a lady
in a white dress.
I had no intention of letting Pickering go without reminding him of our
old acquaintance. He had been a very singular boy, and I was curious to
see what had become of his singularity. I looked for him the next
morning at two or three of the hotels, and at last I discovered his
whereabouts. But he was out, the waiter said; he had gone to walk an
hour before. I went my way, confident that I should meet him in the
evening. It was the rule with the Homburg world to spend its evenings
at the Kursaal, and Pickering, apparently, had already discovered a
good reason for not being an exception. One of the charms of Homburg
is the fact that of a hot day you may walk about for a whole afternoon
in unbroken shade. The umbrageous gardens of the Kursaal mingle
with the charming Hardtwald, which in turn melts away into the
wooded slopes of the Taunus Mountains. To the Hardtwald I bent my
steps, and strolled for an hour through mossy glades and the still,
perpendicular gloom of the fir-woods. Suddenly, on the grassy margin
of a by-path, I came upon a young man stretched at his length in the
sun-checkered shade, and kicking his heels towards a patch of blue sky.
My step was so noiseless on the turf that, before he saw me, I had time
to recognise Pickering again. He looked as if he had been lounging
there for some time; his hair was tossed about as if he had been
sleeping; on the grass near him, beside his hat and stick, lay a sealed
letter. When he perceived me he jerked himself forward, and I stood
looking at him without introducing myself--purposely, to give him a
chance to recognise me. He put on his glasses, being awkwardly
near-sighted, and stared up at me with an air of general trustfulness, but
without