by Ella Edon
“Yes, of course!” she said. “But they are not really players?”
“They are, and they are not,” he replied, smiling. “They really do win, but they are employees of the house, and they do not keep their winnings, on pain of death.”
“How does anyone know?”
“Because there is a Clerk who manages the affairs of the various Puffs. They are allowed to cheat the customers, but not the bank.”
“That is truly fascinating,” said Garance, admiring the knowledge of her man. “You know so much. I had no idea.”
“I simply read something in one of the papers, and committed it to memory, as a way of justifying my father’s stupidity. I mean, his cupidity.”
“That man has just won a great sum, has he not?”
“No, he is a Puff,” said Jonathan, blowing smoke in the air. “He is a fake. And that fellow over there, who is talking loudly about how the bank lost so much money the other day, he is called a Flasher, and he gives people the idea that the bank is slanted in their favor, encouraging betting.”
“But surely nobody is so naive as to believe this?”
“Really?” said Jonathan. “I can attest that my father, who was not a stupid man, was taken in by this, and lost his entire fortune.”
“I see,” said Garance. “Is that all?”
“You will observe, my love, that the drinks get more plentiful, the more you lose,” Jonathan went on. “It makes the pain a little easier to deal with and, of course, it also makes you want to bet more.”
“Jonathan, since you understand this so well, do you not think it would be a good idea to play a game or two of Pharaoh?”
Jonathan laughed. “I see they seem to have convinced you that it is something more than merely chance. But believe me, my angel, I learned my lesson here a few nights ago. Remember how I halved my fortune.”
“Ah yes, that is true. You are very wise.”
“And I had the same information then. I just did not have the concentration. No, I think I want to play cribbage. Let me observe.”
“Certainly. May I sing?”
“I think that would be delightful. The thing is, it will dissuade some of these people from thinking you are a working girl.”
“But I am a working girl!” she said, rather too loudly.
“No! I mean, a woman of the night. A prostitute.”
“Oh no, I am not that! Of course.” She blushed sweetly, and Jonathan put his arm around her waist lovingly.
“Of course, one of the advantages of this company is that they will not mind if I kiss you in public.”
Garance’s eyes lit up. “Do you think you dare?” She giggled coquettishly.
“I shall dare if you permit me,” said Jonathan, smiling.
“No, my love, not yet,” she said, looking across the room at a ruffian who was staring at her, obviously thinking she was an extraordinarily beautiful prostitute.
“And beware of that one over there,” said Jonathan, pointing to another man dressed in somber business attire. “He is an attorney, and he dispenses advice, almost all of it incorrect, about the law. He, too, is in the employ of this Crockford fellow.”
“I hear he is very rich,” said Garance.
“Of course, he is! He has his hand in everyone else’s pockets.”
“Ah yes, of course! How clever you are. But you are too clever for him.” She looked across at the ruffian who was eyeing her. Jonathan saw too, and took her in his arms, and kissed her, to try to indicate that she was taken. Sadly, it did not have the desired effect. Jonathan had thought he would think she was his wife, but he clearly just wanted in on the action, and as he made his lumbering way over to them, the two of them moved to the other side of the cribbage tables. And Garance began to hum softly.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cribbage
“Mind if I play?” said Jonathan to a man sitting alone at a table with a cribbage board in front of him. Jonathan thought that he was an employee of the club, but it was difficult to know.
“Of course,” said the man. “Have a seat, friend.” Jonathan sat opposite him, put his cigar in the ashtray on the table and let it blow toward the man.
“My name is Johnny Anderson,” said Jonathan, giving a sense to the man that he was a commoner. He did this so that he would not get a sense that Jonathan was in any way loaded with money.
“Brutus Smyth,” said the man, smiling to reveal several missing teeth. He was a young man, not what was the usual type of player, and he seemed very genial. “Nice smellin’ cigar you got there. I take it you have a little money to bet with.”
“I have a few pennies,” said Jonathan cryptically.
“So, are you new to this club?” asked Brutus.
“No, but I’m new to cribbage,” said Jonathan, taking up the cigar and puffing madly on it. “How does one play?”
“Well it’s quite simple,” said the man. “This is called six-card cribbage.”
“I see,” said Jonathan, playing dumb. “So, I assume you give me six cards.”
“We need to cut the deck, and the one with the lowest card deals. Six cards each, and we each take turns making points.”
“And how does one make points?”
“Well,” he said. “The aim of cribbage is to be the first to move your pegs - these are the pegs - all the way up and down the board twice and end up in the game hole.” Here, he indicated the game hole at the beginning of the board.
“Seems simple enough,” said Jonathan. “How many points does that take?”
“One hundred and twenty-one,” he said.
“Alright then,” said Jonathan. “Shall we cut the cards?”
“Certainly,” said the man, getting a sense that Jonathan was a mark.
The two men cut the cards, and Jonathan drew a six of clubs, while Brutus drew the queen of spades.
“Oy,” he said, smiling. “That’s bad luck for one of us.”
“I suppose in any game, someone has to lose,” said Jonathan. “Goodness knows I’ve rarely won a thing at any game.”
Brutus smiled to himself. “I suppose you need to shuffle and deal,” he said. Although Jonathan was a deft hand at shuffling, he also knew that this would let Brutus know that he was better than he was letting on, and so he shuffled deliberately slowly and sloppily.
“Have you never played cards before?”
“Well, of course I have. I am simply a little out of practice,” said Jonathan. Then, he dealt six cards.
“Not so quick, me old mate,” said Brutus. “I need to cut that deck before you gives me my cards.”
Jonathan took back the cards and placed the deck in the center of the table, as Garance began to sing a popular melody called “The Foggy Dew.”
“That’s a fine ditty,” said Brutus, smiling at Garance. “And she’s a fine-looking lass. Is she a friend of yours?”
“A dear acquaintance,” said Jonathan, winking slyly. Once again, he took up the cigar and blew a cloud of smoke in the direction of his opponent.
Brutus smiled. “Nice,” he said. “Now, discard two of your cards. This will be our ‘crib.’”
“How do I decide what to discard?” he asked. He did this, trying to test the man to see if he was going to steer him wrong.
“It matters little to be honest, but the hand is yours anyway.”
“I see,” said Jonathan. He laid down two eights and Brutus laid down two face cards.
“There are many ways to score points,” said Brutus, outlining the many ways to score points, and Jonathan listened, noting that he left out several important facts.
“Now, I read a little on the subject,” said Jonathan. “I heard that one wants to score as many points as possible, but that if one scores and does not notice it, one forfeits one’s points. Is this true?”
“Well, certainly,” said Brutus, and Jonathan noticed that he was only half listening and looking lovingly at Garance who was still singing the lovely song called “The Foggy Dew.” Thi
s annoyed Jonathan a trifle.
“Shall we play this hand for practice and then wager on the next?” asked Jonathan.
“You frightened of losing?”
Jonathan laughed, blowing out clouds of thick smoke. “Dear God, if I were frightened to lose, I should never step within these walls. I daresay I have lost hundreds of guineas in places like this, but I get a great deal of joy, even from the possibility of winning.”
“You’ve never won?” asked Brutus, coughing from the acrid smoke billowing around him.
“Well, not at cribbage, of course. I once won twenty pounds a Pharaoh.”
“That is a tidy little sum,” said Brutus.
“It is. I grant you, but I lost it all by the end of the night. Still, I made jolly good friends. I hope you will be one of those friends.”
“I’ve got a good feeling about this, mate.”
Jonathan looked at Garance, who smiled knowingly. He knew he was doing the right thing and was trying his best to make sure that things went smoothly. He puffed again on the cigar and blew the smoke into the air.
By the end of the first game, it was clear that Brutus was smitten with Garance, and yet Jonathan allowed him to win. Jonathan deliberately missed a number of scores because he needed to set this man up. In fact, his research into the tactics of the fellows who convince marks to lose hundreds.
“I say,” said Jonathan. “That was good fun! I suppose you’ll be looking for someone a trifle better than me though.”
“Not at all, sir,” said Brutus. “You play very well. I grant you, you missed a couple of chances there, but you played jolly well. I think we could play for a little scratch if you have the nerve.”
Jonathan had a strong sense that this fellow was playing him as much as he was playing the fellow. However, the beautiful singing of Garance and the billows of thick smoke from his cigar were helping him stay a bit off his full powers of concentration. “I have the nerve. I’m not sure I have the deep pockets needed, Brutus,” said Jonathan, smiling.
“Let’s have a go then,” he said. “First game, for fifty pounds. Best of three double or nothing.”
“I’m not sure I understand, but let’s give it a go. Jolly good fun isn’t it?”
Jonathan began to work in earnest at this point and by the end of the first game he eked out a win, beating Brutus by a slim margin. Brutus smiled. “You got the beginner’s luck,” he said.
“It would appear so,” he said. “Shall we go again?”
“Sure. I think double or nothing for the next game then?”
“Well alright,” said Jonathan. His calculation was that he would lose this game, forfeit the money and then double or nothing the third game and win it back and double his money. That would put him in the start of a winning streak. One hundred and fifty ahead. But only if the plan succeeded. He looked at Brutus, and his appearance and his manner told Jonathan that he was not a profound thinker, but that he could probably afford to lose this amount without worrying or getting violent.
He looked around at the other players and saw that some of them were taking an interest in his play. Garance was attracting rather a good deal of male attention too, which put Jonathan at a certain discomfort, even though he knew that she was his distraction. He looked at her with all the love in his heart. Together they decided that, for the second game, Brutus needed to win and that she should save the singing for the final game.
She sat beside them, talking pleasantly, putting her tiny hand on Jonathan’s strong, masculine one. “This is a very interesting game. Are the stakes high?” she asked innocently.
Brutus laughed. “Oh my, no! I have often played for a thousand pounds. This is nothing.”
“It is a great deal for me, though,” said Jonathan, looking very serious. “I shall endeavor to do my very best. For you, my dear.”
“You are brave to play against such an expert, Jonathan,” said Garance, knowingly. “Of course, you have a great deal to lose before it will hurt your finances, judging by your attire.”
“You have seen through me,” said Jonathan. “Well, Brutus, now that I have been shamed and exposed as a fool in front of my lover, would you like to bet for more?”
“Two hundred?” he asked.
“Well, alright,” said Jonathan, a trifle nervously, puffing on the cigar. His nervousness was not from the bet but because he was looking at a man who was skulking around the edges of the cribbage area. He looked rough and dangerous, and Jonathan could tell that he had been watching their game. Was he an associate of Brutus, he wondered?
They began playing and Brutus was suddenly much better than he had been in the first game. Jonathan realized that he could not possibly afford to lose the second game and played his absolute best as Garance distracted Brutus with her cajoling manner, her good looks, and her singing. Jonathan puffed continuously on the cigar, causing Brutus to cough and fan the smoke away.
As the game neared the end, Brutus began to win, and Jonathan concentrated as hard as he could, forcing several errors on Brutus, who, he thought, had begun to make some sort of signals to the tough-looking man who was skulking around the edges of this game. In the end, Jonathan managed to beat Brutus by a single point.
“I see I may have met my match,” said Brutus, clearly no longer believing that Jonathan was a silly fop who didn’t mind losing. “Still double or nothing?” he said, handing over the two hundred pounds. Jonathan was now up by three hundred and fifty pounds.
“Perhaps you could make this a real contest,” said Garance. “You have lost two hundred and fifty pounds.”
“You have a keen eye, lovely lady,” said Brutus. “Let us agree on, let’s say, double that amount. Are you man enough for this, Johnny?”
Jonathan still was unable to know for sure if he was being played, but decided to trust his mathematical and observational abilities, and agreed. “Very well. Five hundred pounds,” said Jonathan, knowing that if he lost, he would be in frightful debt. He had a fleeting thought that this might be a set-up, a situation similar to what his father had fallen for. However, in his mind, the situation was a test, and he decided it was worth the risk.
He had the advantage of being dealer, and they began in a very competitive way, and he puffed furiously on his cigar. They were clearly attracting a crowd away from the Pharaoh tables, since things were getting tense. This was exactly what Jonathan didn’t want and he looked at Garance, trying to let her know that he did not want notoriety. She knew instinctively that he was right and began to move away, toward the Pharaoh tables, leading many of the crowd with her. This turned out to be a very good move as Jonathan was playing with all his faculties at their maximum.
Within twenty minutes, he had won handily. “I must say, Brutus,” said Jonathan. “You are a very worthy opponent, and although I am new to this sport, I am rather good at sums, and so I thank you.”
Brutus handed over the winnings. “What do you say we double or nothing this hand?”
“I am afraid I shall turn into a pumpkin if I do not leave, for I am terribly tired. Perhaps another night?”
“I’ll look to win back them losses,” said Brutus, smiling crookedly and shaking his hand as he rose from the table.
Jonathan rose, stubbed out the cigar, and signaled to Garance that they must leave. He could see that there were people who knew he had eight hundred and fifty pounds on him, and he knew it was a matter of great urgency to leave safely. He moved swiftly to the door where Nathan was waiting, having stepped inside to keep tabs on his Lord.
Nathan was ready to leave, and as Jonathan and Garance stepped into the carriage, he said to Nathan, “get us out of here as quickly as possible. I know there are several people who want to follow us. Make sure that does not happen. Keep them away.” He tossed a sovereign to Nathan and Nathan took off rapidly, in the wrong direction, turning at every possible street, noting that two carriages were on his tail.
Rather than head directly home, he took the two of them on a rapid rid
e through Piccadilly Circus through a long and circuitous route. Before long, it was clear that they had lost those ruffians who wanted their money. Jonathan got an idea.
“Garance, there must be many other places like this, where I could make money at cribbage. Let us ask Nathan to take us to one of them.”
“Will they not be closed at this hour?” asked Garance. “For it is past twelve o’clock.”
“I doubt it. London rarely sleeps.” He opened the door and called to Nathan. “I say, Nathan. Another sovereign for you if you can take us to another such place. I want to try my luck.”
