The Double and The Gambler

by Fyodor Dostoevsky

  As soon as he appeared at our place, Blanche at once began acting as his advocate before me. She even waxed eloquent. She reminded me that she had been unfaithful to the general because of me, that she had almost been his fiancée, had given him her word; that because of her he had abandoned his family, and that, finally, I worked for him and should be sensible of that, and—shame on me…I kept silent, and she rattled on terribly. Finally, I burst out laughing, and the matter ended there, that is, at first she thought I was a fool, but towards the end she arrived at the notion that I was a very good and agreeable man. In short, I had the luck, towards the end, decidedly to earn the full good favor of this worthy girl. (However, Blanche was in fact a most kind girl—only in her own way, of course; I didn’t appreciate her at first.) “You’re an intelligent and kind man,” she used to say to me towards the end, “and…and…it’s too bad you’re such a fool! You’ll never, never be rich!”

  “Un vrai russe, un calmouk” *82 18 —several times she sent me out to walk the general, just like a lackey with her greyhound. However, I also took him to the theater, and to the Bal Mabille, 19 and to restaurants. For this Blanche even supplied money, though the general had his own, and he liked very much to take out his wallet in front of people. Once I was almost obliged to use force to keep him from paying seven hundred francs for a brooch he had become enamored of in the Palais Royal 20 and wanted at all costs to give to Blanche. Well, what did she need a seven-hundred-franc brooch for? The general had no more than a thousand francs in all. I could never find out where he got it from. I suppose it was from Mr. Astley, the more so as he had paid their hotel bill. As for the way the general looked at me all the while, it seems to me that he never even suspected my relations with Blanche. Though he had heard somehow vaguely that I had won a fortune, he probably supposed I was some sort of private secretary to Blanche, or maybe even a servant. At any rate he always spoke to me condescendingly, as before, like a superior, and occasionally even began to upbraid me. Once he made Blanche and me laugh terribly, at our place, over morning coffee. He was not at all quick to take offense; but here he suddenly took offense at me—for what, I still don’t understand. But, of course, he didn’t understand himself. In short, he started talking without beginning or end, à batons rompus, *83 shouted that I was a mere boy, that he would teach me…that he would make me understand…and so on, and so forth. But no one could understand anything. Blanche rocked with laughter; finally we somehow managed to calm him down and took him for a walk. I noticed many times, however, that he felt sad, was sorry for someone or something, missed someone, even despite Blanche’s presence. In those moments, he started talking with me himself a couple of times, but never could explain anything sensibly, recalled his service, his late wife, his management, his estate. He would latch on to some word—and rejoice, and repeat it a hundred times a day, though it didn’t express his feelings or his thoughts at all. I tried to speak with him about his children; but he would get off with his former patter and quickly pass on to another subject: “Yes, yes! the children, the children, you’re right, the children!” Only once did he wax emotional—he and I were going to the theater: “They’re unfortunate children,” he suddenly began, “yes, sir, yes, they’re un-for-tunate children!” And several times later that evening he repeated the words: “Unfortunate children!” When I began talking once about Polina, he even flew into a rage. “She’s an ungrateful woman,” he exclaimed, “she’s wicked and ungrateful! She has disgraced our family! If we had laws here, I’d have tied her in knots! Yes, sir, yes, sir!” As far as des Grieux was concerned, he couldn’t even hear his name. “He has ruined me,” he said, “he has robbed me, he has killed me! He was my nightmare for two whole years! For whole months in a row I saw him in my dreams! He…he…Oh, never speak to me of him!”

  I saw that things were coming along between them, but kept silent as usual. Blanche was the first to announce it to me: this was exactly a week before we parted. “Il a de la chance,” *84 she rattled out to me, “babouchka is really sick now and will certainly die. Mr. Astley sent a telegram. You must admit that he is her heir after all. And even if he’s not, he won’t hinder anything. First, he has his pension, and second, he’ll live in the side room and be perfectly happy. I’ll be ‘madame la générale.’ I’ll get into a good circle” (Blanche constantly dreamed of that), “later on I’ll become a Russian landowner, j’auraiunchâteau, des moujiks, et puis j’aurai toujours mon million.” †85

  “Well, but if he begins to get jealous, demands…God knows what—you understand?”

  “Oh, no, non, non, non! he won’t dare! I’ve taken measures, don’t worry. I’ve already made him sign several promissory notes in Albert’s name. One slip—and he’ll be punished at once; but he won’t dare!”

  “Well, so marry him…”

  The wedding was quiet and familial, with no great pomp. Among those invited were Albert and a few close acquaintances. Hortense, Cléopatre, and the rest were decidedly excluded. The groom was exceedingly concerned with his position. Blanche herself tied his necktie, pomaded him, and in his tailcoat and white waistcoat he looked très comme il faut.

  “Il est pourtant très comme il faut,’ ‡86 Blanche herself announced to me, coming out of the general’s room, as if the idea that the general was très comme il faut struck even her. I entered so little into the details, taking part in it all in the capacity of such a lazy spectator, that I’ve forgotten much that went on. I only remember that Blanche turned out not to be de Cominges at all, just as her mother was not la veuve Cominges at all, but du Placet. Why they were both de Cominges up to then, I don’t know. But the general remained pleased with that as well, and liked du Placet even more than de Cominges. The morning of the wedding, already fully dressed, he kept pacing the reception room, repeating to himself with an extremely grave and important air: “Mlle Blanche du Placet! Blanche du Placet! Du Placet! Miss Blanca du Placet!…” And a certain self-satisfaction shone in his face. In church, at the mayor’s, and at home over the hors d’oeuvres, he was not only joyful and content, but even proud. Something happened with the two of them. Blanche also acquired an air of some special dignity.

  “I must behave quite differently now,” she said to me with extreme seriousness, “mais vois-tu, I haven’t thought about this one nasty thing: imagine, I still can’t learn my new last name: Zagoryansky, Zagoziansky, madame la générale de Sago-Sago, ces diables des noms russe, enfin madame la générale à quatorze consonnes! Comme c’est agréable, n’est-ce pas?” *87

  Finally we parted, and Blanche, that silly Blanche, even became tearful, saying good-bye to me. “Tu étais bon enfant,” she said, snuffling. “Je te croyais bête et tu en avais l’air, †88 but it suits you.” And, already pressing my hand for the last time, she suddenly exclaimed: “Attends! ”, rushed to her boudoir and a moment later brought me out two thousand-franc banknotes. I would never have believed it! “This may come in handy. You may be a very learned outchitel, but you’re a very stupid man. I won’t give you more than two thousand, because you’ll gamble it away in any case. Well, good-bye! Nous serons toujours bons amis, and if you win again, be sure to come to me, et tu seras heureux! ” ‡89

  I still have about five hundred francs left; besides, I have a magnificent watch worth a thousand francs, diamond cuff links and the like, so I may still last a rather long time without worrying about anything. I’ve purposely lodged myself in this little town in order to pull myself together, but I’m mainly waiting for Mr. Astley. I’ve learned for certain that he’ll be passing through and will stop here for a day on business. I’ll find out about everything…and then—then go straight to Homburg. I won’t go to Roulettenburg, or not until next year. Indeed, they say it bodes ill to try your luck twice in a row at one and the same table, and Homburg is also where the real gambling is.

  CHAPTER XVII

  I T’S A YEAR AND eight months since I’ve looked at these notes, and only now, out of anguish and grief, has it
occurred to me to divert myself and by chance read through them. So I left off then on the point of going to Homburg. God! with what a—comparatively speaking—light heart I wrote those last lines then! That is, not really with a light heart—but with what self-assurance, with what unshakable hopes! Did I at least have some doubts of myself? And here over a year and a half has gone by, and in my opinion I’m much worse than a beggar! What’s a beggar! Spit on beggary! I’ve simply ruined myself! However, there’s hardly anything that compares to it, and there’s no point in reading moral lessons to myself! Nothing could be more absurd than moral lessons at such a moment! Oh, self-satisfied people: with what proud self-satisfaction such babblers are ready to utter their pronouncements! If they only knew to what degree I myself understand all the loathsomeness of my present condition, they wouldn’t have the heart to teach me. Well, what, what new thing can they say to me that I don’t know myself? And is that the point? The point here is that—one turn of the wheel, and everything changes, and these same moralizers will be the first (I’m sure of it) to come with friendly jokes to congratulate me. And they won’t all turn away from me as they do now. Spit on them all! What am I now? Zéro. What may I be tomorrow? Tomorrow I may rise from the dead and begin to live anew! I may find the man in me before he’s lost!

  I actually went to Homburg then, but…later I was in Roulettenburg again, I was in Spa as well, I was even in Baden, where I went as the valet of the councillor Hintze, a scoundrel and my former master here. Yes, I was also a lackey, for five whole months! That happened right after prison. (I got to prison in Roulettenburg for a debt I incurred here. An unknown person bought me out—who was it? Mr. Astley? Polina? I don’t know, but the debt was paid, two hundred thalers in all, and I was released.) Where was I to go? I went to work for this Hintze. He’s a young and flighty man, likes to be lazy, and I can speak and write in three languages. I began working for him as some sort of secretary, for thirty guldens a month; but I ended in real lackeydom with him: he didn’t have the means to keep a secretary, and he lowered my salary; since I had nowhere to go, I stayed—and thus turned myself into a lackey. I ate little and drank little while with him, and that way I saved seventy guldens in five months. One evening in Baden, I announced to him that I wished to part with him; that same evening I went to play roulette. Oh, how my heart throbbed! No, it wasn’t money that was dear to me! My only wish then was that the next day all those Hintzes, all those hotel managers, all those magnificent Baden ladies—that they would all be talking about me, telling my story, astonished at me, praising me, and bowing before my new winnings. That was all childish dreams and concerns, but…who knows, maybe I’d meet Polina, too, and tell her, and she’d see that I was above all these absurd jolts of fate…Oh, it’s not money that’s dear to me! I’m sure I would have frittered it all away on some Blanche again and driven around Paris for three weeks with my own pair of horses worth sixteen thousand francs. I know for certain that I’m not stingy: I even think I’m a spendthrift—and yet, even so, with what trepidation, with what a sinking heart I listen to the cry of the croupier: trente-et-un, rouge, impaire et passe, or quatre, noir, pair et manque! With what greed I look at the gaming table, scattered with louis d’or, friedrichs d’or, and thalers, at the stacks of gold, when the croupier’s rake breaks it up into piles, burning like fire, or the two-foot stacks of silver lying around the wheel. Already as I approach the gaming room, from two rooms away, the moment I hear the clink of spilling money—I almost go into convulsions.

  Oh, that evening when I carried my seventy guldens to the gaming table was also remarkable. I began with ten guldens, and again with passe. I have a prejudice for passe. I lost. I was left with sixty guldens in silver coins; I pondered—and chose zéro. I began staking five guldens a time on zéro; at the third stake zéro suddenly came up, I nearly died of joy, receiving a hundred and seventy-five guldens; when I won a hundred thousand guldens, I wasn’t that glad. I at once put a hundred guldens on rouge—it won; all two hundred on rouge—it won; all four hundred on noir—it won; all eight hundred on manque—it won; counting what I’d had before, it came to one thousand seven hundred guldens, and that in less than five minutes! But in such moments you forget all your previous failures! For I had obtained it at the risk of more than life, I had dared to risk and—here I was numbered among the human beings again!

  I took a room, locked myself in, and sat till three o’clock counting my money. The next morning I woke up a lackey no more. I decided that same day to leave for Homburg: there I had never served as a lackey or sat in prison. Half an hour before the train, I went to make two stakes, no more, and lost fifteen hundred florins. However, I still moved to Homburg, and it’s a month now that I’ve been here…

  I live, of course, in constant anxiety, play for the smallest stakes, and am waiting for something, I calculate, I stand for whole days at the gaming table and watch the play, I even dream about it, but for all that it seems to me that I’ve turned to wood, gotten stuck in some mire. I conclude that from the impression of my meeting with Mr. Astley. We hadn’t seen each other since that very time, and we met by chance; here’s how it was. I was walking in the garden and reckoning that now I was almost out of money, but that I did have fifty guldens—besides, two days before I had paid up fully at the hotel, where I occupied a small room. And so I was left with the possibility of going only once now to play roulette—if I won at least something, I could go on playing; if I lost—I would have to become a lackey again, if I didn’t at once find Russians who needed a tutor. Occupied with this thought, I went for my daily walk through the park and through the woods to the neighboring principality. Sometimes I’d spend four hours walking like that and return to Homburg tired and hungry. I had just walked out of the garden into the park, when I suddenly saw Mr. Astley sitting on a bench. He noticed me first and called to me. I sat down beside him. Noticing a certain gravity in him, I at once restrained my gladness; for I had been terribly glad to see him.

  “So you’re here! I just thought I’d meet you,” he said to me. “Don’t bother telling me: I know, I know everything; your whole life for the past year and eight months is known to me.”

  “Hah! see how you keep track of old friends!” I replied. “It’s to your credit that you don’t forget…Wait, though, that gives me an idea—was it you who bought me out of the Roulettenburg prison, where I was sent for a debt of two hundred guldens? Some unknown person bought me out.”

  “No, oh, no! I didn’t buy you out of the Roulettenburg prison, where you were sent for a debt of two hundred guldens, but I knew you had been sent to prison for a debt of two hundred guldens.”

  “So all the same you know who bought me out.”

  “Oh, no, I can’t say as I know who bought you out.”

  “Strange; our Russians don’t know me, and the Russians here probably wouldn’t buy anyone out; it’s there in Russia that Orthodox people buy out their own. So I thought it might have been some odd Englishman, out of eccentricity.”

  Mr. Astley listened to me with some astonishment. It seems he expected to find me crestfallen and crushed.

  “However, I’m very glad to see you have completely preserved all your independence of mind and even your gaiety,” he said with a rather unpleasant look.