He’d not play at all if it were his own money at stake, but his superiors were only too willing to supply funds to make use of his memory at cards and his linguistic abilities with international opponents at the table.
“Might I suggest we break for refreshments, gentlemen, before the game turns serious?” Fournier asked once the young man left.
The dealer signaled for a waiter to approach.
“A bottle of thatvin doux naturelfrom Banyuls and three glasses,” Fournier ordered. “We introduce ourselves now as the serious players, yes? Me, I am Gilbert Fournier, banker by trade. I have played with M.Beaumont here before.”
Light flashed on cut crystal as Nate lifted his wine goblet in salutation.
Fournier turned to the blond man. “You, I have not seen. You are a fine opponent at the tables. What is your name, my friend?”
“Oberlin.” The man’s voice was curt.
“You are not from Paris, M. Oberlin,” Fournier observed. He merely stated the obvious; Oberlin’s accent during play had marked him as not native to Île-de-France.
“No. I am here for family business.” Oberlin’s tone conveyed that he had no wish to discuss himself.
Fournier, already lubricated with liquor, ignored the hint. “And what is this family business?”
“We are in the business of wine.” Oberlin’s voice remained terse.
The waiter’s return momentarily distracted Fournier. By the time three glasses ofvin doux naturelwere poured and distributed, Fournier had begun talking about the upcoming marriage of his eldest daughter to one of the recently elected deputies from Paris. Nate used the opportunity to casually ask several leading questions but none of Fournier’s answers hinted that he was anything more than he appeared: a middle-aged banker who supported moderate royalist politics and was pleased with the social cachet of a son-in-law newly minted into theChambre des députés.
Meanwhile, Oberlin’s silent attention towards Nate was direct, almost hostile at times, and likewise pointedly on Isobel, although it was possible he was merely admiring her.
Fournier worked his way through a plate of sandwiches and several glasses ofvin doux naturelbefore proposing resumption of the game with raised stakes. They had left off with all three of Nate’s five-franc stakes remaining, Fournier and Oberlin with two each. Nate, currently in the best position, declined raising the stakes from one to five francs per hand.
Fournier nodded knowingly. “Saving your money for that one?” he asked, nodding towards Isobel. Isobel stood with severalof the other women near one of thepasse-dixtables, a glass of wine in hand. She seemed to feel the men’s interest in her for she turned, lips curving in a shy smile.
“That, and the night is yet young,” he replied. “I’ve no wish to see it end prematurely should my luck turn.”
“Our friend Beaumont never plays more than three games,” Fournier informed Oberlin. “She’s lovely, your girl. Not that I am unhappy with my own mistress, you comprehend, but there is no cost for a man to appreciate the fortunes of another.”
With a noncommittal noise, Nate signaled the dealer to resume play.
On the fourth hand, Fournier went out when Nate made anothertrente-et-un. Despite having lost money on the game, Fournier remained cheerful, rubbing his hands as he settled in to watch Nate and Oberlin finish out the game. Nate still had two five-franc stakes remaining while Oberlin had none. Oberlin took the first hand, knocking with twenty-nine, but Nate took the second, knocking early with twenty-eight and taking the game with a net of just over fifty francs.
After hearty congratulations, Fournier attempted to entice more players without success. “No takers? It is slow tonight. The weather, perhaps. Who can say? Another game, my friends, between us? Perhaps for this game we raise the stakes, M.Beaumont, as M.Oberlin has desired?”
Nate inclined his head in agreement.
“Fifteen francs in the dish, five francs per hand?” Fournier suggested. “Unless you have a different suggestion, M.Oberlin?”
Oberlin assented, too.
By virtue of draw, the order of play was the same as in the first game: Oberlin on the dealer’s left, Nate to Oberlin’s left, and Fournier to the dealer’s right.
After five hands, Oberlin’s and Fournier’s final five-franc pieces were in the pot and Nate had one remaining in his dish. Itwas possible, likely even, that either Oberlin or Fournier would be out after this hand, but he still needed to play moderately.
His opening cards weren’t spectacular, the queen ofcarreauxas his only court card and no matched suits, but after four turns he had assembled the queen–nine–eight ofcarreaux.
Oberlin’s discards had the appearance of tightening his hand in a particular suit. Fournier had picked up Nate’s most recent discard, the five oftrèfles, suggesting he collectedtrèflesbut did not have a strong hand.
A total of twenty-seven wasn’t ideal for knocking, but with three players there was a good possibility that he’d be safe if he did. He was saved from deciding when Oberlin knocked with theroi-valet-septofpiques. Fournier sheepishly laid down his hand: thedix-cinq-quatreoftrèfles. Nate and Oberlin, having tied at twenty-seven, both beat Fournier’s total of nineteen; Oberlin was safe.
Fournier rocked back in his chair. “Some nights the luck isn’t with one, eh?”
In general Nate agreed with that, which was why he never played more than three games in the course of an evening’s work, buttrente-et-unalso required at least a moderate amount of skill as a hand progressed. Although when one had the amount of money Fournier did, it mattered little on the balance if one’s play owed more to luck than skill.
