CHAPTER XV.MY REVENGE AT BILLIARDS.
Enticed to Liverpool with a Burlesque Troupe— The comic Murderers—a nice Amateur—the unknown Friend— the Champion of England.
"Look here, Jack, you know Pattie Hastings?" said Horace Brown, as he entered my apartments hurriedly one morning.
"I have certainly set eyes on that young lady," I replied. "She is not here?"
"Who said she was? Why, you old hypocrite, you were mad about her last winter, and even now the recollection of these beautiful sonnets you used to send her, to say nothing of the bouquets and bracelets, makes her sigh—after a third glass of champagne!"
"Champagne has more than that to answer for. Suppose I did at one time admire the little woman's antics on and off the stage, what then? Has she sent you to me for a certificate of character? Eyesight all right? No Colorado gold nor Arizona diamonds for her; and she is sound in wind. I will back her to talk scandal against any three damsels you know. The Duke of C—— is not going to be divorced to marry her? No dissension, I hope, in a certain household?"
"You talk coolly enough now, old fellow!" said Brown. "Other times, other opinions. She was the queen of burlesque a short year ago, and her dancing some one not a mile off thought more graceful than Kate Vaughan's!"
"This is evidently the dull season, and you are hard up for subjects to speak about," said I. "Does Hughes run his horse at Sandown?"
"I don't know. But I say, Jack, you are not bad friends with Pattie?"
"Bother Pattie! Has the world taken a fit to revolve round her? Or is it a case of Miss Hastings on the brain? Pulse too rapid, head hot, skin too dry, feverish very; hold out your tongue, and let me prescribe for you."
"I see," said Brown, "you are in one of your 'waiting-to-be-fed' moods; it is no good asking a favour."
"You have confined your observations to Miss Hastings since you entered the room, permit me to observe. When I hear what the request is I may be able to answer. The money market, however, is tight."
"It is not money," said Brown. "I want you to come to Liverpool with me."
"To Liverpool!" said I. "Why not San Francisco? In queer street, eh? Pressing business abroad, I suppose?"
"Bosh!" said Brown. "Pattie Hastings is taking her troupe to America, and I am going to Liverpool to see her off. I wish you would come—she will be delighted."
"I see!" said I. "After the steamer goes dull hotel! No one to speak to or play billiards with! Long railway journey without a partner atécarté. Well, all right; I will take pity on you. When does this burlesque eclipse take place?"
"We start by the nine o'clock train to-morrow morning," said Brown.
Having agreed to go, we arrived at the station at the appointed time, and went to Liverpool. There were the gushing Pattie and her invaluable troupe, and a more forward set of young women I never saw. We put them safely on board a Cunard steamer, and returned to the Washington Hotel. The question then arose how we were to dispose of our time, as we did not mean to leave for town till next day. The theatres were no good—all old pieces, which we had seen many times in London. Brown suggested a visit to a waxworks in the neighbourhood, where all the notorious murderers—Rush, Palmer, and Co.—wore evening-costume, and only wanted a flower in their coats to look like stewards of a county ball. I declined to interview the horrors. We eventually made up our minds to try our luck at that ever-fascinating game—billiards.
Notwithstanding that I play a more than an average game, I happened to meet my match that night.
As regards playing cards with strangers, an amusing anecdote is related of the elder Matthews and his partner Mr. Yates. They were on a professional tour and found themselves at a country hotel on a stormy day without any means of killing the time during the bad weather. They would have liked a game of whist immensely, but where were they to find partners, double dummy being dull work? The landlord was consulted, and asked if he knew of any gentleman who would have a game of whist? He replied in the affirmative, a gentleman being then in the hotel whom he thought understood the game pretty well. A polite message was immediately conveyed to the stranger, inviting him to join them in a game. The unknown gentleman soon made his appearance, and they all sat down to play, the new arrival taking dummy.
Luck was dead against the comedians. They could not win a single game. After they had played some time, and no inconsiderable amount of money had passed to the holder of "dummy," the stranger looked at his watch and said he was sorry to have to leave, having to meet an important engagement. The comedians were apparently surprised at this sudden termination of the game, and Matthews asked whether he would be disengaged soon again? The stranger replied that he would be most happy to meet them at any hour next day, when perhaps they would be in better luck, at the same time regretting it was most urgent business that called him away. "Pray," said Matthews, who was rather excited, and when so stammered, "what may your—your business be if—if—it isn't—im—pertinent—to inquire?" "Why," replied the stranger, with a knowing nod, "I am, like yourselves, a professional—a magician—and give a performance to-night at the Town Hall. You will, therefore, excuse my departure. Good evening, gentlemen!" and the stranger bowed and retired. The two comedians considered it prudent next morning not to renew the game with so lucky an opponent, and thought they had had enough of it, although very much dissatisfied with the stranger and his "luck."
Well, I considered I was "done" at billiards at Liverpool, but determined, unlike the comedians, to have satisfaction and revenge before I left. Dinner over at the Washington, we strolled a little through the city, and came across some excellent billiard-rooms in the neighbourhood of the Exchange. Having nothing else on hand at the time I suggested a game to Brown, and just as we had finished our third hundred a well-dressed, young-looking man came into the room. As he appeared rather anxious to play, I obliged him, and it was not long before I found, to my surprise, that he was a much better player than I had anticipated. Thinking I could win easily, I began very carelessly, but my young-looking opponent soon made me stare with astonishment at his good play; and as he kept edging up to the "spot-stroke" without leaving the balls about, I began to anticipate defeat. I, however, pulled myself together, and, after a well-contested and exciting game, I came off the winner. The second game was also exciting, as I was ninety-eight when he ran out the victor. The third game commenced very steadily, but eventually I came off triumphant. The betting, at first in half-sovereigns, increased as we continued to play, and I found myself at the end of the game richer by £4. Brown was also a gainer by the result.
"You are very evenly matched, you two gentlemen," said a man, who, judging from his flash appearance, probably dabbled in horse-racing. "If you will play again, I don't mind backing the loser of the last game for £5 or £10!"
Brown jumped at the offer, and the money was accordingly deposited with the marker. "Now," said Brown, "you have not come across a 'duffer;' do your best!" Play commenced, and notwithstanding my having endeavoured by every possible means to win, I was defeated by three! This annoyed me very much, and Brown was exasperated that I should be beaten in this manner at my favourite game by a provincial. We now saw that my opponent stood in with the bookmaker in his bets; but this was to us quite immaterial so long as the marking was correct, which Brown took good care it should be.
The rumour spread by this time through the neighbourhood that billiards was being played for large sums of money, and the room became in consequence inconveniently crowded. Another game was proposed, and as I was anxious to win back Brown's money as well as my own, I consented, on condition that my opponent would give me points. This I scarcely expected would be granted.
"I think we are fairly matched," said my modest friend. "How many would you have the conscience to ask?"
"Can you give me ten in a hundred?"
"Impossible," replied my opponent. "I might as well give you the game."
The bookmaker here interposed, and persuaded him to let me have the ten points, offering at the same time to back his friend for £25, or any part of it!
Brown and I consulted, and as it seemed a certainty for me, the match was made. It is needless to describe the play here, but it was the most exciting of the series, and the betting equal. Suffice to say that, to my utter amazement, the game, with nine spot strokes, resulted in a victory for my opponent, my score being only ninety-five!
There was no help for it—luck was dead against us, and, like the comedians, Brown and I considered we had had enough of it—at least, for the present—and thought it prudent to retire. Before leaving, however, we learned the victor's name. His profession was that of a clerk in an insurance office. On striking a profit and loss account at the hotel we ascertained, to our dismay, that our evening's amusement had cost us £42! So much for Pattie Hastings and our trip to Liverpool.
The next morning we strolled down to see the extensive docks, and to witness the landing of the passengers from America, a Cunarder having just then arrived. I was pleased to find among the passengers an old friend of mine, who had been on a professional tour in the United States. Having informed him of the hotel we were stopping at, he agreed to accompany us, and on arriving and partaking of some refreshment he retired to have a few hours' rest. Brown and I again consulted as to our mode of procedure, and having struck on a good idea and discussed it, we resolved on remaining another night, and endeavouring if possible to turn the tables on our conquerors.
On my friend coming down to dinner, I had an opportunity to narrate to him our unlucky proceedings the previous evening, and the amount of money we lost. As he was acquainted with my play, he felt surprised, and was anxious to see this provincial wonder. Having succeeded in arousing his curiosity, he agreed to look in at the billiard-rooms, but his name was on no account to be mentioned. We accordingly appointed an hour, and when we entered the rooms it was easily to be seen that we were expected. The bookmaker, with his cable chain, was there, and there were a numerous gathering of his friends. There, too, was my opponent, playing a game with the marker. Before I was very long in the room I was asked if I should like to stand up, and I replied, with some hesitation, I would play one game for £5 on getting ten. This was assented to, and the play commenced in the midst of some enthusiasm, and resulted in my carrying off the honours, my opponent, for his own reasons, not wishing to show off his best form so early in the evening. When I declined to play any more, Brown was asked to have a game, and he declined. They then pressed our friend to try his luck, and he rather unwillingly consented, not being in so good a condition as he should wish, owing to his voyage across the Atlantic. Wishing to do us a favour if possible, he stood up and prepared for the play. When asked, however, how many points he would take, he caused some surprise in the room when he replied that, although he was somewhat cramped by a sea voyage, he would try to play level!
The game commenced, and the bookmaker's friends were jubilant; they looked upon this match as the best thing ever known for their champion! They hoped we would only stop some time in Liverpool, and they would make their fortunes. What an immense advantage it was to have such a splendid player to set against strangers like us!
But this time they were mistaken. They had caught the wrong bird. Our friend won the game, and, to their utter consternation, kept on winning game after game, until, after two hours' play, he whispered, "Got your money back?" and I answered, "Yes, with interest—don't play any more."
We immediately left the place and returned to the hotel, where we had an excellent supper and a few bottles of "phiz," leaving the bookmaker and his friends to wonder who the "unknown" was.
A couple of years afterwards I met the insurance clerk at St. James's Hall, and he showed us that he was one of the best players in the country. But the man who beat him at Liverpool was the Champion of England.