University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.

Wittelsey repeated his invitation to Waldron, to join with him in a
glass of the sparkling brandy that stood before them upon the marble table.

`I have positively resolved never to drink any more spirits while I am in
business.'

`You won't refuse wine! That I know you are accustomed to. Vestris!'
he cried, addressing one of the young girls, each of whom had a soubriquet,
borrowed from some popular danseuse, `the decanters and goblets! The
silver ones,' he said in a low tone. `We can drink more in them, as they
don't tell us how deep we go, like the glass. You will take wine with me,
Ralph?'

`I have no objections to wine, though I drink wine only at dinner.'

Wittelsey's eye sparkled as he filled his friend's glass, for he well knew
that he who will take one glass will take two,and he who will take two has.
by so much, weakened his resolution, and will be easily induced to take another;
and he who will drink three glasses of wine, will not be found difficult
to tempt to brandy, especially if he has had once a love for it.

Wittelsey reasoned well, as the bad always do when they would tempt
the upright to fall. Ralph being accustomed to wine at his father's board,
thought no evil of it. He did not hesitate to indulge in it moderately.—
Brandy was all he feared. He was ignorantly making a distinction without
a difference. For he who loves wine will come to love that which is stronger
than wine. The habit of drinking wine insensibly deadens the sensibility
of the taste and palate, and to excite them, three glasses become necessary,
where one will not produce the requisite sensation. But three or
four glasses, the wine-drinker finds will give head-aches and dullness, and
by and by, fail to produce the pleasant results they once did. To deepen
his draughts drowns his senses and besots him! His only alternative is to
substitute brandy for wines! This is a necessary and irresistable change.
He finds one glass of brandy produce the effects that formerly was caused
by a single glass of wine, and which now half a dozen glasses fail to bring
about. He therefore drinks brandy, moderately at first, and oddly enough
begins to think that, by the change, he has taken a great step towards temperance
and moderation. But the one glass of brandy must of necessity, by
and by, become two, and two, three, till the senses become paralysed, the
eyes inflamed, the nerves unstrung, the hand trembling, and the whole man
lives by an artificial stimulant irregularly and wildly coursing through the
veins, arteries and nerves, in place of the pure fluids! feeding upon his very
life, while it communicates life, in it are the seeds of death!

If Ralph had never known wine, he would have been less easily tempted.
It was because he drank wine he was prevailed upon by De Witt in their
hunting excursion to try brandy. It was because he drank wine he now
consented to partake with him! He drank and then the two young men
turned away to walk up and down the room. At the farther extremity,
seated in a luxurious arm chair, of purple velvet, borded with gold lace, and
surrounded by three or four young men who were lounging upon ottomous
and smoking, sat a person whose appearance at once struck Waldron. He
was a man about seven and twenty, of great height, and symmetry of person,
and an exterior of the most polished refinement. He had a noble

head, covered with dark locks, and a profile whose outline was the perfection
of manly beauty. His complexion was olive, and relieved by black
arched eye-brows, and large whiskers, coal black and glossy as a raven's
wing. His eyes were large, bold and penetrating, and his lips expressed decision
and strength of character. But the expression of his face was repulsive.
It was cold, heartless, artificial. He looked like a man relentless in
hatred, and one who would arrive at whatever he aimed by any means
whatsoever. This, however, was the deeper expression of his countenance
and which he did not care should be read; and his habit was to conceal the
true malignity of his character beneath smiles, and gentle-toned words, and
an address of the most finished courtesy. Altogether he was a splendid
looking man of the world, whose appearance in any Court ni Europe would
be distinguished. He was in a sort of undress, being attired in a green silk
robe, and wearing a green velvet cap with a gold braid and tassel. He was
smoking a Turkish pipe, ornamented with chains of gold, and the fragrant
perfume of the scented scarfalatti tobacco which he gracefully expelled from
his lips, as he reclined in his luxurious chair with a lordly dignity, filled the
room. He was talking familiarly with the young gentlemen around him,
who were among `the first blood' of the city; men who would have disdained
to acknowledge him in society, or recognize him in the street.

`Who is that person, Wittelsey?' asked Waldron, as they arm and arm
slowly approached him.

`Not to know him is to be yourself unknown! why, my dear fellow, that
is the immortal Frankton!'

`The proprietor of the establishment!'

`The same!'

`I have seen this man in the street, and I thought he was some foreign
Count.'

`You could'nt compliment him more efficiently than by telling him so.
He is as vain as— but I will introduce you. That's what I came this way
for.'

`Thank you, no!' answered Waldron, `I had rather not make his acquaintance.'

`You must. Every stranger who enters here has to be presented to Lord
Frankton. You need not fear his recognising you in the street. He knows
well you would out him, and has too much pride to expose himself to insult.
So you are safe.'

`Ah, Mr. Wittelsey, you are welcome to-night,' said Frankton, without
moving from his attitude of negligent ease, and fixing as he spoke, his gaze
from under his dark brow closely upon the face of Waldron; that is, addressing
the one, and bending his eyes upon the other!

`Allow me, Frankton, to introduce to you my particular friend and relation,
of whom you have heard me speak, (in uttering these last words he
looked significantly at the proprietor,' who caught and returned his glance
with a look of secret intelligence.) it is Mr Ralph Waldron. Ralph, this is
Mr. Frankfort, the proprietor of B— Halls!'

Ralph bowed, and so did Mr. Frankton, with a polished movement of his
body, and a gracious smile. He then half rose and said, `Mr. Waldron I
am happy to have the honor of seeing you. Allow me to introduce you to
my friends here.'

Frankton then presented him to each, and gave him a seat by his side.

`Wine!' cried the proprietor to a black servant in livery, who stood behind
his chair.

It was brought upon a silver waiter, and placed upon a bronzed pedestal
before him in the midst of the party.

`Music!' he commanded in an imperious tone. All at once came swelling
from some invisible source, the sweet instrumental music that had before

enchanted Waldron. The same rich female voice rose and mingled
with the instruments. He listened with delight, his senses bewildered and
entranced. In the meanwhile, Frankton had filled the half dozen glittering
goblets before him.

`Mr. Waldron, we drink your health!' said he, as he raised a goblet,
motioning to the others to do the same. Ralph drank with them, and then
was engaged in conversation by Frankton, who had a wonderful talent to
please when he chose to do so. He knew well whom he had before him.
From De Witt he had had all his history previously; and the latter had
bargained to give him one thousand dollars of the six thousand he hoped to
strip him of, to have the use of his rooms to play in. Waldron was therefore
in a net, against the toils of which temperance alone could give him
power. But alas! temperance, that temperance which is temperate in all
things he had not known! Wine to him was destined to become his ruin,
as completely and as surely as brandy could have done. Frankton knew
his man! Not an incident of his life or character that would aid his cause
had Wittelsey omitted in his prior interview with the proprietor.

`If he drinks wine he is ours!' was the positive reply, at the time, of the
experienced Frankton.

The wine was freely passed by the subtle and dangerous accomplice of
Wittelsey, who remaining apparently indifferent, and having left the game in
Frankton's hands, did not, for fear of exciting suspicion, or afterwards incurring
any reproaches from his victim, once urge him to drink. But with
the pressing politeness of the fascinating Frankton, the free companionship
of the young gentlemen around, the swell of ravishing music, the voluptuous
excitement of the novel place in which he found himself, with the magiclike
and enchanting splendor of the surrounding scenes, all conspired to
cause him to yield up his senses to the delusive joys of the hour.

As a skillful physician watches the pulse of his patient to know the moment
when to check the flow of blood from his opened veins, so the experienced
proprietor of B— Halls, watched the countenance of his victim, to
know precisely the moment to withdraw the bottle! As accurately as the
physician knows the powers and uses of his medicines, so he knew what
wines produces certain effects. Frankfort knew that a glass or two of sherry,
followed by champagne and brandy, by making him dull and sullen,
would produce a condition that would soon unfit his patient for play. He
knew that a sparkling tumbler of champagne first administered, then madeira
in one or two draughts, followed again by champagne, would produce precisely
that condition most favorable to his object; a high degree of elevation
of the spirits, extravagantly generous feelings, social amenity, and an open,
acquiescing and reckless spirit, that yields itself with mad gaiety to any
temptation that may be presented. Such was the condition of Waldron,
when Frankton catching the eye of Wittelsey with a peculiar look of satisfaction,
gave a sign for the glasses to be removed.

`Come, Ralph, let us go in and see the players in the next room,' said
Wittelsey, taking his arm.

`Players! I have seen players and plays too, my boy!' answered Waldron,
with his face full of smiles, and looking altogether perfectly happy,
and being what Frankton termed very `prettily tipsy!' `Mr. Frankton, you
—you are a gentlemen! You kee—keep good wine, and d— me if you
an't a gentleman! if any man says to-to the con-con-con-con-con—never
mind the rest o' the word—you know what I mean, my boy—I'll knock him
down!'

The proprietor looked savagely under his thick black brows, as if annoyed
by this equivocal compliment, and Wittelsey hurrying him away, they entered
a room where some young men were betting at roulette. Ralph as he

walked, reeled `quite genteely,' swaying a little, but not absolutely staggering.
He was precisely in a fit state to do any thing that was hinted to him;
whether to kick up a row with watchman; tear off door-knockers; change
opposite store-signs, or play! Wittelsey lead him before the costly silvermounted
roulette table, with its green cloth, particolored spots, burnished
and rapidly flying wheel.

`Double O O, red!' drawled, as they came up, a young man with the
thorough gambler's physiognomy, coarse and vicious; and at the same time
with a slender rod, tipped with a silver hook, he swept towards a pile a
stake which had been placed on single O red, by a young man who was the
only one playing.

`What game is this, De Witt?' demanded Ralph tipsily, and waving like
a poplar swayed by a gentle wind.

`Roulette! it is a fascinating game!'

`How is it played?'

“E-lev-en black!' drawled out, syllable by syllable, the gambler, and casting
the while a quick furtive glance at Waldron, and estimating him, to use
an expressive phrase of the `fraternity.' Of Wittelsey he only took notice
by a slight half-nod; for this gentleman was well known there. The gambler,
or `banker,' having pronounced the number, shoved from a pile of gold
by his side, ten eagles, the player having staked upon the `eleven black,'
fifty dollars and won.

`You see how it is played,' answered De Witt. `These upon the cloth in
the black and red coloured checks are certain numbers, duplicates of which
you see are marked within the horizontal wheel in the centre of the board.
An ivory ball is spun from the fingers of the banker as you beheld, and the
wheel being set revolving simultaneously, the ball flies round and finally
rests, when the wheel is stopped, upon one of the numbers in the wheel.—
Now if you place a dollar down upon one of the red squares, say number 7
red, drawn on the green cloth, and the ball on being spun rests on number
7 red in the wheel you are the winner. Otherwise you lose. If you place
your money on O O black or red, it is a law of the game that you win or
lose thirty-six times (I believe it is,) the amount of your stake. I once saw
a hundred dollars win thirty six hundred at this very table on those figures!
Now watch the ball!'

`Ten black!' monotonously sang the banker. `The money is on 9 black.
He loses. If it had been on ten he would have won,' said Wittelsey.

The banker extending his silver crook drew five of the eagles back to his
pile of gold from which he had just before paid them out; but always,
whether wining or losing with the same cold and indifferent look, and repeating
the numbers in the same drawling, disagreeable, sing-song tone.—
Wittelsey was closely and anxiously watching the countenance of Waldron.
He had too much policy to ask to play the friend he intended to ruin. He
was willing that wine should be his ally; and a true and faithful ally it
ever is to the wicked and designing, as they well know. Waldron was just
in that state which requires activity. The artificial fire and hilarity within
him struggled for external action. He wanted to exhaust the feeling in outward
excitement. This was the natural effect of undue inward excitement.
Whatever, therefore, that offered him this activity, that promised vent to his
exhiliarating impetus in his blood, he would instinctively and gladly embrace.
There was no resistance, but rather a craving for free exercise and
developement. The drinker at this stage cannot be passive. He must be
doing. He must use his fierce powers. He must give full rein to his extravagant
animation. Hence the midnight bouts with Charlies; the uproarious
songs and mad frolies of homeward going bacchanals; hence the recklessness
with which men rush to the gaming table! Such was the feeling

that possessed Waldron. Wittelsey saw it working and struggling for action.
If he had proposed boxing or fencing, Waldron would have here
found an avenue for his surplus flow of spirits. But this was no part of his
scheme.

Without speaking his intention, Waldron in a very dignified manner, all
at once drew from his purse a dollar and placed it after a second tipsy effort
with a slapping emphasis down upon the O O red! Wittelsey saw this act
with a joy he could ill conceal, and the banker observing his looks caught
his eye and slightly vibrated his left eye-lid; for he instantly comprehended
the whole matter. He cast the ball into the wheel and set it whirling.—
Waldron watched the galloping motion of the little ivory coursed around
his revolving circus with an earnest interest. It stopped.

`Double O O Red!' called the man with some surprise.

`By Heaven, Ralph, you have won!' cried Wittelsey. `If it had been a
cool hundred now you would have got $3600 for your stake! You were
born under a lucky star, Waldron.'

`The star spangled banner and I are first cousins, my boy,' answered the
young merchant, gazing upon his friend's countenance with a beaming
smile of ludicrous tenderness. He then began to sing in a mellow voice

`The wheel waits, Ralph,' said Wittelsey.

`Waits, eh? go it little ivory!' he cried, winking funnily at the banker,
and throwing his arm affectionately about Wittelsey's neck to support himself,
for he swung backward and then forward like a pendulum wrong end
up. `There it is again, double O O black!' said he placing the thirty-two
dollars upon these figures in the black square. The ball went rattling and
clattering around the flying circle and rested upon the answering number
in the wheel.

`Double O O black!' drawled the banker; and rapidly counting out thirty-two
times the amount of his stake pushed it towards him.

We will not follow out in detail this painful scene. Inspired by his two
first brilliant successes, Ralph entered with all his spirit into the play, and
at midnight, after two hours and a half play he was a loser of nine hundred
dollars, for which he, with a heavy heart, for he was now perfectly sober,
gave a check to Frankton; this person always keeping such blank conveniences
in a room at the foot of the stairs, which he used as an office. The
money won from him by the banker was to go to Wittelsey, according to
the contract, the proprietor taking his proportion as bargained for, as well
as the usual percentage.

The next morning Ralph felt more miserable than he had ever felt in his
life. He recalled as well as he could all that had passed, and groaned in
spirit. At the moment of his deepest shame and regret, Wittelsey entered.
Ralph wanted society and hailed his appearance with pleasure. De Witt
seeing how he was, prescribed brandy and water, and sending to the bar,
Waldron being at a hotel, he persuaded him to drink it. He soon felt better,
and the blues of remorse vanished.

From that day Waldron began to descend. He was prevailed by De
Witt to try to recover what he had lost by betting at other games. He alternately
lost and won, but still inspired by the hopes of winning all back he
nightly resorted to Frankton's; nightly drank deeply, and played heavily,
and each night involved himself deeper and deeper. At length he drew
the last dollar from the bank which he had placed there but two months before,
(for only that length of time had he been in the city,) to be used by the

House whenever the sum should be required for certain contemplated transactions.
At the same time he addressed Mr. Ward the following brief note.

Poor Waldron had indeed chosen his own course, and sadly did he abide
by it, as will be shown hereafter.