The Strange Story -- The Arrival of the Mob At the Hall, And Their Dispersion

"You will find that the time which elapsed since I last saw you in London, to have been spent in an eventful, varied manner."--"You were in good circumstances then," said Mr. Chillingworth.--"I was, but many events happened after that which altered the prospect; made it even more gloomy than you can well imagine: but I will tell you all candidly, and you can keep watch upon Bannerworth Hall at the same time. You are well aware that I was well to do, and had ample funds, and inclination to spend them."--"I recollect: but you were married then, surely?"--"I was," said the stranger, sadly, "I was married then."--"And now?"--"I am a widower." The stranger seemed much moved, but, after a moment or so, he resumed--"I am a widower now; but how that event came about is partly my purpose to tell you. I had not married long--that is very long--for I have but one child, and she is not old, or of an age to know much more than what she may be taught; she is still in the course of education. I was early addicted to gamble; the dice had its charms, as all those who have ever engaged in play but too well know; it is perfectly fascinating."--"So I have heard," said Mr. Chillingworth; "though, for myself, I found a wife and professional pursuits quite incompatible with any pleasure that took either time or resources."-"It is so. I would I had never entered one of those houses where men are deprived of their money and their own free will, for at the gambling-table you have no liberty, save that in gliding down the stream in company with others. How few have ever escaped destruction--none, I believe--men are perfectly fascinated; it is ruin alone that enables a man to see how he has been hurried onwards without thought or reflection; and how fallacious were all the hopes he ever entertained! Yes, ruin, and ruin alone, can do this; but, alas! 'tis then too late--the evil is done. Soon after my marriage I fell in with a Chevalier St. John. He was a man of the world in every sense of the word, and one that was well versed in all the ways of society. I never met with any man who was so perfectly master of himself, and of perfect ease and self-confidence as he was. He was never at a loss, and, come what would, never betrayed surprise or vexation--two qualities, he thought, never ought to be shown by any man who moved in society."-"Indeed!"--"He was a strange man--a very strange man."-"Did he gamble?"-"It is difficult to give you a correct and direct answer. I should say he did, and yet he never lost or won much; but I have often thought he was more connected with those who did than was believed."-"Was that a fact?" inquired Mr. Chillingworth.-"You shall see as we go on, and be able to judge for yourself. I have thought he was. Well, he first took me to a handsome saloon, where gambling was carried on. We had been to the opera. As we came out, he recommended that we should sup at a house where he was well known, and where he was in the habit of spending his evenings after the opera, and before he retired. I agreed to this. I saw no reason why I should not. We went there, and bitterly have I repented of so doing for years since, and do to this day."-"Your repentance has been sincere and lasting," said Mr. Chillingworth; "the one proves the other."--"It does; but I thought not so then. The place was glittering, and the wine good. It was a kind of earthly paradise; and when we had taken some wine, the chevalier said to me,-"'I am desirous of seeing a friend backwards; he is at the hazard-table. Will you go with me?'--I hesitated. I feared to see the place where a vice was carried on. I knew myself inclined to prudential motives. I said to him,--'No, St. John, I'll wait here for you; it may be as well--the wine is good, and it will content me?'