The Queen of Spades

Queen Of Spades, by Alexander
Sergeievitch Poushkin

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Title: The Queen Of Spades 1901
Author: Alexander Sergeievitch Poushkin
Translator: H. Twitchell
Release Date: October 17, 2007 [EBook #23058]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE
QUEEN OF SPADES ***

Produced by David Widger

THE QUEEN OF SPADES
By Alexander Sergeievitch Poushkin

Translated by H. Twitchell
Copyright, 1901, by The Current Literature Publishing Company
AT the house of Naroumov, a cavalry officer, the long winter night had
been passed in gambling. At five in the morning breakfast was served
to the weary players. The winners ate with relish; the losers, on the
contrary, pushed back their plates and sat brooding gloomily. Under the
influence of the good wine, however, the conversation then became
general.
"Well, Sourine?" said the host inquiringly.
"Oh, I lost as usual. My luck is abominable. No matter how cool I keep,
I never win."
"How is it, Herman, that you never touch a card?" remarked one of the
men, addressing a young officer of the Engineering Corps. "Here you
are with the rest of us at five o'clock in the morning, and you have
neither played nor bet all night."
"Play interests me greatly," replied the person addressed, "but I hardly
care to sacrifice the necessaries of life for uncertain superfluities."
"Herman is a German, therefore economical; that explains it," said
Tomsky. "But the person I can't quite understand is my grandmother,
the Countess Anna Fedorovna."
"Why?" inquired a chorus of voices.
"I can't understand why my grandmother never gambles."
"I don't see anything very striking in the fact that a woman of eighty
refuses to gamble," objected Naroumov.
"Have you never heard her story?"
"No--"

"Well, then, listen to it. To begin with, sixty years ago my grandmother
went to Paris, where she was all the fashion. People crowded each other
in the streets to get a chance to see the 'Muscovite Venus,' as she was
called. All the great ladies played faro, then. On one occasion, while
playing with the Duke of Orleans, she lost an enormous sum. She told
her husband of the debt, but he refused outright to pay it. Nothing could
induce him to change his mind on the subject, and grandmother was at
her wits' ends. Finally, she remembered a friend of hers, Count
Saint-Germain. You must have heard of him, as many wonderful
stories have been told about him. He is said to have discovered the
elixir of life, the philosopher's stone, and many other equally marvelous
things. He had money at his disposal, and my grandmother knew it. She
sent him a note asking him to come to see her. He obeyed her summons
and found her in great distress. She painted the cruelty of her husband
in the darkest colors, and ended by telling the Count that she depended
upon his friendship and generosity.
"'I could lend you the money,' replied the Count, after a moment of
thoughtfulness, 'but I know that you would not enjoy a moment's rest
until you had returned it; it would only add to your embarrassment.
There is another way of freeing yourself.'
"'But I have no money at all,' insisted my grandmother.
"'There is no need of money. Listen to me.'
"The Count then told her a secret which any of us would give a good
deal to know."
The young gamesters were all attention. Tomsky lit his pipe, took a few
whiffs, then continued:
"The next evening, grandmother appeared at Versailles at the Queen's
gaming-table. The Duke of Orleans was the dealer. Grandmother made
some excuse for not having brought any money, and began to punt. She
chose three cards in succession, again and again, winning every time,
and was soon out of debt."

"A fable," remarked Herman; "perhaps the cards were marked."
"I hardly think so," replied Tomsky, with an air of importance.
"So you have a grandmother who knows three winning cards, and you
haven't found out the magic secret."
"I must say I have not. She had four sons, one of them being my father,
all of whom are devoted to play; she never told the secret to one of
them. But my uncle told me this much, on his word of honor.
Tchaplitzky, who died in poverty after having squandered millions, lost
at one time, at play, nearly three hundred thousand rubles. He was
desperate and grandmother took pity on him. She told him the three
cards,