The Enemies of Women Part 35

She thought the same. "Yes; how short!"

They could no longer walk together. It was necessary to say good-by there, far from the crowd.

Alicia held out both hands.

"Nothing more?" sighed Michael.

The d.u.c.h.ess hesitated a moment. Then, with the agility of a young girl, as though she were still the wild Amazon of the Bois de Boulogne, she sprang for his open arms.

"There, there, and there!"

There were three rapid fiery kisses, that only lasted for a second; three kisses that made Lubimoff think he had never felt one in all his life, since he had never experienced the quivering that swept his body from head to feet.

"More! Give me more!"

She laughed at his imploring look.

"Enough folly. Another time, who knows!--For the present I am worried again. I am afraid to enter my house: I feel terror and hope. Oh, the news that I may receive at any moment! Tell me; do you really think that nothing has happened to him? Do you think he may come back?"

CHAPTER VIII

Spadoni entered Novoa's room with the intention of getting him to talk.

At present he was an ardent believer in the professor's knowledge, and seeing him well disposed toward gambling and inclined to meditate on its mysteries, he hoped with simple faith that the scientist would discover something miraculous, some brilliant idea that would make them both wealthy. On that account the pianist arose earlier than he was wont, to surprise the professor during his toilet, considering this the proper time for matters of confidence.

"The word 'chance,'" said Novoa, "is a term devoid of meaning; or, I should say rather, chance does not exist. It is an invention of our human weakness, our ignorance. We say that a phenomenon takes place by chance when the causes either are unknown to us or seem impossible to a.n.a.lyze. We are ignorant of the causes of the majority of things that occur and we get out of the difficulty by attributing them to chance."

The musician opened his eyes wide, and his olive features contracted with a look of respectful attention. He did not understand the scientist's words very clearly, but he admired them in advance, as a prelude to revelations which would be more practical, and of immediate application.

"Every phenomenon," continued Novoa, "no matter how slight it seems, has a cause, and the man with an infinitely powerful brain, infinitely well informed of the laws of Nature, would be capable of foreseeing everything that might happen within a few minutes or within a few centuries. With a man like this it would be impossible to play any gambling game. Chance would not exist for him. Having the secret of the small causes that at present escape our intelligence, and a knowledge of the laws that control their combinations, he would know absolutely everything that might arise from the mystery of a pack of cards or from the numbers of a roulette wheel. No one could hope to win from him."

"Oh, Professor!" sighed the pianist, in admiration.

Inwardly he prayed that his ill.u.s.trious friend would go on studying. Who knows but what a professor might become that all-powerful person, and, taking pity on a poor pianist, allow him to follow in his trail of glory!

Novoa smiled at Spadoni's simplicity and went on talking.

"The number of facts which we attribute to chance (and chance is nothing but a fict.i.tious cause created by our ignorance) varies, in the same ratio as our ignorance varies, according to the times and according to the individual. Many things which are chance for an uneducated person, are not chance for a man of learning. What is chance to-day will not be perhaps within a few years. Scientific discoveries finally diminish considerably the domain of chance, just as our ignorance decreases."

The pianist's face beamed with a rapt expression.

"You are a great scholar, Professor, a great scholar!... Don't shake your head; I know what I'm saying. I have a feeling of certainty that, if you go on studying these important matters, you will find a system which...."

The Spaniard interrupted him, pointing to a pack of cards on a nearby table. It was easy to guess that he had been studying during the night, before going to bed. These cards were for Spadoni evidence of scientific studiousness, worthier of respect than all the books from the library of the Prince, which lay forgotten in the corners. At present the Professor was interested in the mysteries of chance, and Spadoni was certain that he would discover something better than anything which had been invented thus far by ordinary gamblers.

But his hope vanished at Novoa's gesture of dismay.

"Look at that pack of cards: A few pieces of cardboard and, nevertheless, they contain the immensity of the universe! They cause in one the feeling of dizziness inspired by the Infinite, just as when you look upward with a telescope or downward with a microscope. Do you know how many combinations can be made with a pack of fifty-two cards? I don't know how to express it: nor will you find the figure in a dictionary or an arithmetic, as it is useless, since it lies beyond human calculations. Let us coin the word: eighty unidecillions, or the figure eight followed by sixty-six ciphers. Two men who began to play with a pack of fifty-two cards and played a hand every minute, each hand being different, would not be able to exhaust all the possible combinations in five million centuries."

There was a long silence, as though the walls of the room had shrunk under the weight of these inconceivable numbers. Spadoni bowed his head.

"Now, tell me," continued the Professor, "what can a poor human being, with all his calculations of probabilities, do against this infinity!"

And seizing a handful of cards, he let them fall again like a whispering rain of colors on the table.

"Everything depends on chance," he added, "or I should say, on error. We lose through error and win through it likewise. Our error is the result of an infinity of infinitesimal errors due to another infinity of small causes, the a.n.a.lysis of which we cannot even attempt. These tiny causes are all independent of one another, and since they are directed by chance, they operate in one way as readily as in another. When the infinitesimal is positive, it causes us to win, when it is negative, we lose."

Spadoni nodded his head, although he scarcely understood. The one thing clear to him were the infinitesimal errors which cause us to lose. He was acquainted with them; they were like microbes, malevolent germs, which always clung to him. He wished that his learned friend might discover an antiseptic that would put an end to them.

"Besides," said Novoa, "if there are probabilities of winning, these probabilities are in proportion to the wealth of the gamblers. A poor gambler has less chance of winning than one who has capital at his disposal."

"Then, how about us?" the musician asked in a melancholy voice.

"We are the under dogs and were born to be victims. Gambling is an image of life: the strong triumph over the weak."

Spadoni remained thoughtful.

"I have seen wealthy gamblers," he said, "who were finally ruined like the rest."

"Because they don't stop in time, at the point where the resisting power of their capital brings the hour of winning. In life, as well, the great devourers, soldiers, multi-millionaires, and rulers, are in turn devoured in the final leveling: death. But before that time, they triumph through a powerful means that fate has placed in their hands. We who are poor, never triumph continuously for a whole day. Trying to win a great fortune with small capital is equivalent to wanting to lose that small capital."

They both fell silent, discouraged; but Novoa seemed to have suffered the contagion of his companion's dreams, and felt the necessity of bolstering him up again with some fantastic meditation fit for a gambler.

"You know, Spadoni, how much one can win with a thousand francs? Last night I undertook to make the calculation."

He pointed to a piece of paper covered with figures which was protruding from among the cards. So Novoa was up to the same tricks as the pianist!

"With a thousand francs, doubling each time in forty-three games (some four hours), one could win a block of gold a hundred thousand million times as large as the sun."

"Oh, Professor!"

They both looked at each other with mystic ardor, as though they were actually contemplating this immeasurable block. Beside such a vision what did the winnings of a few paltry millions mean?

Toledo was beginning to realize, little by little, the gradual transformation of his friend, the scientist.

Novoa was greatly interested in his personal appearance; he had asked the Colonel to recommend him to his tailor in Nice; and the Professor made frequent trips to the latter city, merely to make purchases.

Besides, he was gambling. Don Marcos frequently surprised him beside a table in the Casino, standing and meditating before risking one of the few chips which he held tightly in his hand. He seemed dazzled by the ease with which he won. The amounts were small, but so large in comparison with those which he had received for his previous work as a Professor! In half an hour he could win a month's salary. In an afternoon he had succeeded in ama.s.sing three thousand francs; half a year's work at teaching and in the laboratory.

Monte Carlo seemed to him an interesting place and life there a quiet relaxation, which stood out above the grave, laborious monotony of his previous existence. The Museum of Oceanography could wait; it would not move away during his absence from the point on the rock of Monaco. The science of maritime zoology was not going to be revolutionized in a few months. And when the director saw him with a gay excited look enter, from time to time, the quiet silent atmosphere of the Museum, and when he observed his gay clothes, and the closeness with which he followed men's style, he sadly shook his head. Novoa was not the first. Oh, Monte Carlo! The old professors looked with the stern face of prophets at the city opposite. Young men who arrived from various places in the world to study the mysteries of the ocean, ended by making mathematical calculations on the probabilities of roulette.

"Besides, he is in love," said Castro, communicating to Toledo his impressions in regard to Novoa. "When he isn't gambling he is with that Valeria woman."

They were engaged. The professor, with an air of mystery, had told this to all his friends, asking each one to keep the secret. After idle gallantries as a student, this was the first, the great love of his life. He was worried somewhat by the humbleness of his position. When they were married what would Valeria say on learning how little he earned as a scientist? But immediately he placed his hope on gambling, the undreamt of fortune which at present offered itself each day.