University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.

My heart beat quicker than ever when he pointed to Rainbow.
Not that I expected or wished to win him back, for I would only
have taken him back by giving up all the money, or all except
the hundred and fifty dollars; but it now seemed to me as
if I looked on the old man with such feelings as would have made
me consent to almost any thing he wished. I had a strange sort
of pity for him. I considered him a sort of kind-hearted, rich old
madman. I said, `Very well;' and he took another pill out of
his box, and begun again at the cards.

“ `You are a very fortunate fellow,' said he, `and seem a very
good one. I really see no reason why you should not be my heir.
You say you are not married.'

“ `No.'

“ `But you have your sweetheart, I suppose. A lad of twenty-five,
which I suppose is much about your age, is seldom without
one.'

“ `It's not the case with me,' said I. `In these parts we have
mighty few folks and fewer women, and I don't know the girl
among them that's ever seemed to me exactly the one that I should
be willing to make my wife.'

“ `Why, you're not conceited, I hope? You don't think yourself
too fine a fellow for a poor girl, do you?'

“ `No, by no means, stranger; but there's a sort of liking
that one must have before he can think of a wife, and I haven't
seen the woman yet to touch me in the right way.'

“ `You are hard to please, and properly. Marriage is easier
found than lost. A man is too noble an animal to be kept in a
mouse-trap. But there are women—'

“He stopped short. I waited for him to say something more,
but by this time the cards had been distributed, and he was sorting
his hand.

“ `There are women!' he said again, though as if he was

talking to himself. There he stopt for a minute, then looking
up, and fixing his bright eyes upon mine, he continued:

“ `Come, Rayner,' said he, good-humouredly. `The cards are
in your hands, and remember to play your best, for that famous
fine horse may become your own again. I warn you, I have a
good hand. What do you do?'

“ `Good or not,' said I, something more boldly, `I will stand
on mine.'

“I had a most excellent hand, being sure of high and low,
with a strong leading hand for game.

“ `Play then!' he answered; and at the word, I clapped down
the ace of hearts, the very ace you see atop of the pack over the
chimney now.

“ `You are a lucky fellow, Rayner,' said he, as he flung down
the Jack upon it, the only heart he held in his hand. The game
ended; I was owner of horse and money. But I jumped to my
feet instantly.

“ `Stranger,' said I, `don't think I'm going to rob you of your
horse or money. I don't exactly know why I played with you
so long, unless it be because you insisted upon it, and I did'nt
wish to disoblige an old gentleman like yourself. Take your
money, and give me my horse; or, if you want the horse, leave
me the hundred and fifty, which is a fair price for him, and put
the rest in your own pocket. I wont't touch a copper more of it.'

“ `You are a good fellow, Rayner, but, with some persons,
younger and rasher persons than myself, your words would be
answered with a bullet. Nay, were I the boy I have been, it would
be dangerous for you to speak, even to me, in such a manner.
Among gentlemen, the obligation to pay up what is lost by cards
is sacred. The loser must deliver, and the winner must receive.
There is your money, and that is your horse again; but I am
not yet done with you. As I said before, you are a good fellow,
and most certainly a lucky one. I like you, though your principles
are scarcely fixed yet—not certain! Still, I like you;
and there's some chance that you will be my heir yet. A few
more trials at the cards must determine that. I suppose you are
not unwilling to give me a chance to win back my losses?'

“I caught at the suggestion.

“ `Surely not,' I replied.

“ `Very good,' says he. `Don't suppose that, because you've
emptied my purse, you've cleaned me out quite. I have a diamond
ring and a diamond breastpin yet to stake. They are
worth something more than your horse and your heap of money.
We will place them against your eagles and horse.'

“ `No!' said I quickly. `I'm willing to put down all the
eagles, but not the horse; or I'll put down the horse and all the
money, except the hundred and fifty.'

“ `As you please,' said he, `but, my good fellow, you must
take my word for the ring and breastpin. I do not carry them
with me. I know it's rather awkward to talk of playing a
promised stake against one that we see, but I give you the honour
of a gentleman that the diamonds shall be forthcoming if I
lose.'

“I began to think that what he said was only a sort of comeoff—but
I didn't want his money, and was quite willing that he
should win it back. If he had said, `I'll stake my toothpick
against the money,' I'd have been just as willing, for all that I
now aimed at was to secure my horse or the price of him. I
felt very miserable at the thought of winning the man's money
—such a heap of it! I had never played cards for money in all
my life before, and there's something in the feeling of winning
money, for the first time, that's almost like thieving. As I tell
you, if he had said his toothpick, or any worthless thing, instead
of his diamonds, I'd have been willing. I didn't say so, however,
and I thought his offer to stake diamonds that he couldn't show,
was pretty much like a come-off. But I was willing enough, for
the money seemed to scald my eyes to look upon. He took out
a pencil, the case of which I saw was gold also, and wrote on a
slip of paper, `Good for two brilliants, one a ring, the other a
breastpin, the latter in form of a Maltese cross, both set in gold,
with an inner rim of silver, valued at seven hundred dollars.'
This was signed with two letters only, the initials of his name.
I have the paper now. He bade me read it, and when I did so,
I thought him madder than a March hare; but if I thought so
then, I was more than ever convinced of it, when, a moment
after, and when we were about to play, he spoke to this effect:

“ `There's one thing, Rayner. There's a little incumbrance
on these jewels.'

“ `Well, sir,' I said.

“I didn't care a fig for the incumbrance, for I didn't believe a
word of the jewels.

“ `If you win them, you win a woman along with them. You
win a wife.'

“I laughed outright.

“ `Don't laugh,' said he; `you don't see me laugh. I'm serious;
never more so. You are unmarried. You need a wife.
Don't you want one?'

“ `Yes! if I could get a good one—one to my liking.'

“ `You are a good fellow. You deserve a good wife, Rayner;
and such is the very one I propose to give you.'

“ `Ay, ay,' said I; `but will she be to my liking?'

“ `I hope so; I believe so. She has all the qualities which
should command the liking of a sensible and worthy young man.
She, too, is sensible; she is intelligent; she has knowledge; she
has read books; she has accomplishments; she sings like an angel;
plays on several instruments—piano and guitar!'

“ `Piano and guitar!' said I.

“I didn't know what they were. I felt sure that the old fellow
was mad, just out of a hospital, perhaps; but then where did he
get the money and the gold things? I began to think more suspiciously
of him than ever.

“ `Yes, piano and guitar,' said he; `she draws and paints too,
the loveliest pictures—she can make these trees live on canvass;
ah! can she not? Money has not been spared, Rayner, to make
Rachel what she is.'

“ `Rachel—is that her name?' I asked.

“ `Yes, it is.'

“ `What's the other name?'

“ `You shall know, if you win the diamonds.'

“ `Yes—but how old is she? how does she look? is she young
and handsome? I wouldn't want an ugly wife because she happened
to be wise. I've heard that your wise women are generally
too ugly for any thing else than wisdom.'

“ `You are a fool, Rayner, though a good fellow. But Rachel

is beautiful and young—not more than seventeen—the proper age
for you. You, I think you say, are twenty-eight. In this climate
a man's wife should always be ten or twelve years younger
than himself—provided he be a sober and healthy man, and if he be
not, he has no business with a wife, nor a wife with him. You
are both sober and healthy. You are a good fellow—I see that. I
like you, Rayner, and for this reason I am willing to risk Rachel on
the cards, playing against you. My loss will probably be her gain,
and this makes me rather regardless how it ends. You shall be
my heir yet.'

“ `Thank you, old gentleman,' said I, beginning to feel a little
bold and saucy, for I now couldn't help thinking that the stranger
was no better than a good-natured madman who had got away
from his friends. `Thank you,' said I. `If Rachel's the girl you
make her out to be, you can't bring her along a day too soon.
But, may I ask, is she your daughter?'

“ `My daughter!' he answered sharply, and with something of
a frown on his face, `do I look like a man to have children?—to
be favoured with such a blessing as a daughter?—a daughter like
Rachel?'

“ `Now,' said I to myself, `his fit's coming on,' and I began to
look about me for a start.

“ `No, Rayner,' he continued, `she is no daughter of mine,
but she is the daughter of a good man and of honourable parents.
You shall have sufficient proof of that. Have you any more
questions?'

“ `No, sir.'

“ `And you will take Rachel as your wife? You have heard
my description of her. If she comes up to it, I ask you, will you
be willing to take her as your wife?'

“I looked at him queerly enough, I reckon. He fixed his
keen black eyes upon me, so that I couldn't look on him without
shutting my own. I didn't know whether to laugh or to run.
But, thinking that he was flighty in the upper story, I concluded
it was best to make a short business of it, and to agree with any
thing that he wished; so I told him freely `yes,' and he reached
out his hand to mine, which he squeezed nervously for a minute,
and then took out his box of pills, swallowed a couple of them,

and began dealing out the cards. I had the strangest luck—the
same sort of luck that had kept with me from the start. I won
the diamonds and won Rachel!

“ `Well,' said he, `I'm glad, Rayner, that you are the man-I've
been long looking for an heir to my diamonds. They are
yours—all is yours; and I shall have to be indebted to you for
the loan of the horse, in order to go and bring you your wife.'

“ `Ay,' said I, `stranger, the horse is at your service, and half
of the money too. I never thought to take them from you at the
first; I shouldn't have felt easy in my conscience to have used
the money that I got in this way.'

“ `Pshaw!' said he, gathering up the cards, and wrapping
them in the buckskin wallet from which he had taken them.
`Pshaw, you are a fool. I'll borrow your horse, and a few pieces
to pay my way.'

“ `Help yourself to the rest,' said I, taking, as I spoke, fifteen
of the eagles to myself, and leaving the rest on the dead body of
the horse, where they had been growing from our first commencing
to play.

“ `You are my heir,' he answered, `and behave yourself as
you should. Between persons so related there should be no paltry
money scruples;' and, while he said these words, he stooped
to take the money. I turned away that he shouldn't suppose I
watched him, but I couldn't help laughing at the strange sort of
cunning which he showed in his conceit. Says I to myself, `You
will take precious good care, old fellow, I see that, that I carry
off no more than my own poor hundred and fifty.' But he was
too quick in mounting and riding off to give me much time to
think about it or to change in my disposition. It was only after
he was off, out of sight, and in a full gallop, that, looking round
upon the dead horse, I saw the eagles still there, nearly all of them,
just as I had heaped them up. He had only taken two of them,
just enough, as he said, to bear his necessary expenses.

“I was a little surprised, and was now more sure than ever
that the stranger had lost his wits. I gathered up the money, and
walked home, mighty slowly, thinking all the way of what had
taken place. It seemed more like a strange dream than any thing
else. Was there any man? Had I played old sledge with a

stranger? I was almost inclined to doubt; but there was the
dead horse. I went back to look at it, and when I thrust my
hand down into my breeches pocket, I brought it up full of the
precious metal; but was it precious metal? I began to tremble
at this thought. It might be nothing better than brass or copper,
and my horse was gone—gone off at a smart canter. My heart
grew chilled within me at this reflection. I felt wild—scared
half out of my wits, and instead of regarding the old man as a
witless person escaped from his keepers, I now began to consider
him a cunning sharper, who had found one more witless than I
had fancied him.