My Little Lady | Page 6

am tired with my long walk too."
"Ah, that walk," said the Belgian, "I did wrong in advising you to take
it; you prolonged it till you missed the _table- d'hôte_ dinner, and now
you are too much fatigued to dance."
"But I am very much amused as it is, I assure you," insisted Graham.
"Do tell me something about all these people. Are they all stopping at
the hotel?"
His companion was delighted to give any information in his power. No,
not a third of the people were stopping at the hotel, the greater part had
come over from Liége, and would go back there by the ten o'clock
train.

"Then you do not know many of them?" Graham said.
"No," the Belgian admitted, "he did not know many of them; only those
who were staying at Chaudfontaine. That lady he had just been dancing
with, Monsieur had seen in the morning, he believed; she was the
Countess G----, a most distinguished person, with blood-royal in her
veins, and came from Brussels. That pretty girl in blue was
Mademoiselle Sophie L----, who was going to be married next month
to one of the largest proprietors in the neighbourhood, the young man
standing by her, who was paying her so much attention. The
odd-looking man in shoes and buckles was a rising genius, or thought
himself so, a violinist, who came over occasionally from Liége, and
hoped to make his fortune some day in London or Paris; and perhaps he
will do so," says the Belgian, "for he has talent. That little dirty-looking
young man with a hooked nose, and the red Turkish slippers, is a
Spaniard going through a course of studies at Liége; he is staying in the
hotel, and so are the fat old gentleman and lady seated on the sofa; they
are Brazilians, and he has been sent over by his Government to
purchase arms, I believe. Those three young ladies in white are sisters,
and are come here from Antwerp for the summer; that is their mother
talking to Mademoiselle Cécile. I see no one else at this moment," he
added, looking slowly round the room at the groups of dancers who
stood chattering and fanning themselves in the interval between the
dances.
"Who is that?" asked Graham, directing his attention to a gentleman
who had just appeared, and was standing, leaning in the doorway
opposite.
He was a tall handsome man, with light air, and a long fair moustache
and beard, perfectly well dressed, and with an air sufficiently
distinguished to make him at once conspicuous amongst the Liége
clerks and shopkeepers, of whom a large part of the company consisted.
"Ah! precisely, Monsieur, you have fixed upon the most remarkable
personage here," cried his companion, with some excitement; "but is it
possible you do not know him?"

"I never saw him before," answered Graham. "Is he a celebrity? A
prince, or an ambassador, or anything of that kind?"
"No, nothing of that kind," said the other laughing, "but a celebrity
nevertheless in his way. That is M. Linders, the great gambler."
"I never even heard of him," said the young Englishman; "but then I
don't know much about such people."
"It is true, I had forgotten that Monsieur is not of this country; but you
would hear enough about him were you to stay any time at Wiesbaden,
or Homburg, or Spa, or any of those places. He twice broke the bank at
Homburg last year, won two hundred thousand francs at Spa this
summer, and lost them again the next week. He is a most dangerous
fellow, and positively dreaded by the proprietors of the tables."
"What! when he loses two hundred thousand francs?"
"Ah! that is a thing that rarely happens; as a rule he is perfectly cool,
which is the principal thing at these tables, plays when the run is in his
favour, and stops when it is against him; but occasionally he gets
excited, and then of course the chances are that he loses everything like
another."
"What can he be doing here?" said Graham.
"Who knows? Stopping a night or two on his way to Paris, or Brussels,
perhaps, on the chance of finding some one here rich enough and
imprudent enough to make it worth his while. You do not play,
Monsieur?"
"Never in that way," answered the lad, laughing; "I can get through a
game of whist decently enough, but I rarely touch cards at all."
"Ah, then you are safe: otherwise I would have said, avoid M. Linders;
he has not the best reputation in the world, and he has a brother-in-law
who generally travels with him, and is even a greater rogue than
himself, but not so lucky--so they say at least."

"Do you know him, this