XVII
THE SOCIAL ASPIRATIONS OF CAPTAIN McBANE
It was only eleven o'clock, and Delamere, not being at all sleepy, and
feeling somewhat out of sorts as the combined results of his afternoon's
debauch and the snubbing he had received at Clara's hands, directed the
major's coachman, who had taken charge of the trap upon its arrival, to
drive him to the St. James Hotel before returning the horses to the
stable. First, however, the coachman left Ellis at his boarding-house, which was near by. The two young men parted with as scant courtesy as was possible without an open rupture.
Delamere hoped to find at the hotel some form of distraction to fill in
an hour or two before going home. Ill fortune favored him by placing in
his way the burly form of Captain George McBane, who was sitting in an
armchair alone, smoking a midnight cigar, under the hotel balcony. Upon
Delamere's making known his desire for amusement, the captain proposed a
small game of poker in his own room.
McBane had been waiting for some such convenient opportunity. We have
already seen that the captain was desirous of social recognition, which
he had not yet obtained beyond the superficial acquaintance acquired by
association with men about town. He had determined to assault society in
its citadel by seeking membership in the Clarendon Club, of which most
gentlemen of the best families of the city were members.
The Clarendon Club was a historic institution, and its membership a
social cult, the temple of which was located just off the main street of
the city, in a dignified old colonial mansion which had housed it for
the nearly one hundred years during which it had maintained its
existence unbroken. There had grown up around it many traditions and
special usages. Membership in the Clarendon was the _sine qua non_ of
high social standing, and was conditional upon two of three
things,--birth, wealth, and breeding. Breeding was the prime essential, but, with rare exceptions, must be backed by either birth or money.
Having decided, therefore, to seek admission into this social arcanum, the captain, who had either not quite appreciated the standard of the Clarendon's membership, or had failed to see that he fell beneath it, looked about for an intermediary through whom to approach the object of his desire. He had already thought of Tom Delamere in this connection, having with him such an acquaintance as one forms around a hotel, and having long ago discovered that Delamere was a young man of superficially amiable disposition, vicious instincts, lax principles, and a weak will, and, which was quite as much to the purpose, a member of the Clarendon Club. Possessing mental characteristics almost entirely opposite, Delamere and the captain had certain tastes in common, and had smoked, drunk, and played cards together more than once.
Still more to his purpose, McBane had detected Delamere trying to cheat
him at cards. He had said nothing about this discovery, but had merely
noted it as something which at some future time might prove useful. The
captain had not suffered by Delamere's deviation from the straight line
of honor, for while Tom was as clever with the cards as might be
expected of a young man who had devoted most of his leisure for several
years to handling them, McBane was past master in their manipulation. During a stormy career he had touched more or less pitch, and had escaped few sorts of defilement.
The appearance of Delamere at a late hour, unaccompanied, and wearing
upon his countenance an expression in which the captain read aright the
craving for mental and physical excitement, gave him the opportunity for
which he had been looking. McBane was not the man to lose an
opportunity, nor did Delamere require a second invitation. Neither was
it necessary, during the progress of the game, for the captain to press
upon his guest the contents of the decanter which stood upon the table
within convenient reach.
The captain permitted Delamere to win from him several small amounts, after which he gradually increased the stakes and turned the tables.
Delamere, with every instinct of a gamester, was no more a match for
McBane in self-control than in skill. When the young man had lost all
his money, the captain expressed his entire willingness to accept notes
of hand, for which he happened to have convenient blanks in his
apartment.