The Enemies of Women (Los enemigos de la mujer)

"Who wants money?"

He began to fling it about in an enchanting rain. All except the most aristocratic women came running, tense and pale, swarming around the table, struggling for a single louis. They shoved one another, rolled on the carpet, bruising each other with hands and feet, to gain a single drop of this golden manna. Some of them struck and scratched each other, while their right hands clutched the same thousand franc note, tearing it. Hats rolled about on the ground; the hair of some of the women fell down their back, or was scattered in a cloud of false curls.

"Me, Prince! Me!"

And with clutching fingers they danced about him, in a body, as though possessed.

"Who wants money?"

The head employees intervened, angry but smiling, seeing who was the cause of the disturbance. "Your Highness, please! You are interrupting the play! Such a thing has never happened here before." But he continued flinging his money, until he had exhausted his winnings – more than sixty thousand francs – and the games went on again, with more players than before. Every one who had gathered something from the floor or caught it in the air, ran to risk it on a card or a number.

Michael dwelt on this memory which was like a triumph. He could repeat it any time he pleased; he was sure of it. He recognized that in the end every gambler finally loses, and he did not consider himself an exception to this rule. But his will dominated fortune at first, and – by withdrawing in time before the latter had a chance to recoup with the perverse cunning of an untamable female!..

The Prince finally went to sleep thinking of Alicia.

"Poor woman! She doesn't know how to play; Lewis is right: She doesn't know how… How should a beautiful woman know, who has never thought about anything save her own person! I must help her. I am a man. Perhaps to-morrow … to-morrow!" …

The following day, at the breakfast hour, Don Marcos had a great surprise which worried him considerably. The Prince, who never bothered about money, allowing his "Chamberlain" to make negotiations directly with his Paris manager for the house expenses, asked him what amount he had at his disposal.

The Colonel made a mental calculation. He did not think he kept just then any more than fifteen thousand francs. He was expecting a check from the agent.

"Give it to me," Lubimoff commanded.

And immediately, as though suddenly recalling something, he calmly mentioned the debt he had contracted the afternoon before. Toledo was thoughtful for a moment on learning that he was to come to an understanding with the old money lender to return the twenty thousand francs and the payment of extraordinary interest, which might double in a few days. He recalled the luncheon during which the Prince had proposed their present solitary life. Where were the ferocious "enemies of women" now? For the Colonel suspected that behind these squanderings of the Prince and this sudden passion for gambling, lay the influence of some woman. And he who never dared stake more than a few odd coins from time to time, thinking of the enormous sums entrusted to his loyalty, was deeply worried.

While Don Marcos was on his way to the bank where the house money was deposited, the Prince walked about in the neighborhood of the Casino, waiting impatiently for the rooms to open. In the morning the crowd was very slight and very few tables were operating. Only the most desperate gamblers, after spending a sleepless night, anxious to try their new combinations as soon as possible, and sickly people who hoped to find a good seat vacant, came at that early hour.

Impatiently Lubimoff entered the anteroom, after secretly thrusting into a pocket a roll of bills which Toledo handed to him. The employees of the first shift were arriving slowly, like clerks entering an office. The cleaning women and porters in shirt sleeves had just swept up the sawdust scattered on the floor. They all looked at him from the corner of their eyes, pointing him out to one another by discreet nudges. Imagine the Prince there at that hour, when people of his station in life were still in bed! Instinctively they looked all about expecting to see some coyly dressed lady waiting to meet him unobserved at that early hour. His well-known reputation did not permit them to imagine anything save a rendezvous.

It was ten o'clock. The curtains were opened, and Michael entered brushing against the first gamblers to arrive, modest timid folk. He felt the same nervousness, impatience, and dull anger that he felt on the mornings when he had fought duels. He walked with a heavy step; his hands kept contracting as though ready to strangle the empty air. At the same time he felt the same proud confidence of a marksman, sure of hitting the bull's-eye. He defied Lady Fortune before facing her, the wench whom he had once conquered. "By God! She would see she was dealing with a man this time!"

He jerked a chair away from a hand already stretched out to take it, and sat down at a roulette table, between two dirty, badly dressed old women, who looked like witches. The employees exchanged looks of amazement, eyeing one another discreetly. The Prince betting, and at such an hour!..

"Faites vos jeux!"

The game began. Michael had no particular combination and had not thought of any. His eyes wandered over the thirty-six numbers, but only for an instant.

"That's the one," he thought. And he placed all that he could, nine louis, the maximum, on thirteen.

The ball spun about the mahogany border, and when it finally came to rest was greeted with a murmur of amazement. "Number thirteen."

A few thousand franc notes thrust in his direction by the rake of the croupier remained in front of the Prince, who sat there impassively, retaining a hard willful look. He knew it; he was sure he was making no mistake. Thirteen once more.

People looked in amazement. What folly to bet twice on the same number! But when thirteen won a second time and the Prince was paid the maximum again, a murmur from the crowd applauded the victor. Onlookers came hurrying, leaving the other tables devoid of spectators. This was going to be as famous a morning in the Casino, in spite of the smallness of the crowd, as the most celebrated afternoon and evening, when wealthy players fought with luck.

Lubimoff changed his number. It was absurd to go on with thirteen. And he placed nine louis on seventeen. The ball spun around. It was thirteen once more. He lost.

His look became harder and more aggressive. Dame Fortune was beginning to laugh at him for his lack of will power. A conqueror should feel no vacillation; it was his fault, for having given up his number. Men like him should go ahead, and impose their will, or perish without abandoning their first attitude. Thirteen as before!.. And it was seventeen that won.

For a moment he thought the ground was falling away beneath his feet; he seemed to be floating in air, surrounded by mysterious forces that were weakening and finally breaking his will. He passed his hand over his forehead, as though trying to brush away, far away, his momentary weakness.

"The she-devil," he exclaimed, mentally, insulting Fortune, sure once more that he was going to enslave her.

And he went on playing.

At three o'clock in the afternoon he came out of the Hôtel de Paris. He had lunched alone, without paying any attention to the glances he had received from other tables, avoiding friendly greetings that might have started a conversation.

In his mouth was a fat cigar, and his legs, although perfectly steady, inwardly felt a certain voluptuous sensation. The food had been bad; he had scarcely touched the dishes; on the other hand he had drunk a bottle of famous Burgundy, and several glasses of cordials immediately after finishing two cups of coffee.

From the hotel steps he gave a glance of destructive hate at the square, the Casino and the Gardens. He thought with satisfaction of the possibility of a cruiser belonging to one of the nations which were carrying on war on the seas of Europe anchoring in front of that gingerbread house, and firing a few shells at it. What a wonderful sight! Then, in his imagination, he had a landing party with their machine guns disembark, to take prisoner all the people who were filling the square, men, women and even children. The world would lose nothing by it. What a city of corruption! Why the devil had his mother taken it into her head to buy the promontory of Villa Sirena, obliging him to live near this den of thieves? He even upbraided the dead Princess, with the stern uncompromising morality of every gambler who has just found himself tricked.

As he glanced over the gay, well-dressed crowd that he was condemning to slavery, he saw Alicia, alone and on foot, on the edge of the sidewalk around the "Camembert," looking at the Casino.

"Are you going in?" he said, approaching her.

The Duchess became indignant, as though he was proposing something humiliating, something that she had never done before. She enter the Casino?

"It's a rotten den, and the employees are rotters, and those who gamble – rotters too."

It was all rotten! After saying this they took each other's hands as though they had just suddenly recognized each other.

When Michael, still harping on his kind wishes, told her about the bombardment and landing party with machine guns that he had been enjoying in his imagination, the Duchess almost applauded. As far as she was concerned, she would be very glad if they destroyed everything, if they even took the sovereign Prince himself prisoner, and if, into the bargain, the invaders returned the money she had lost, she could want nothing better.

Suddenly, as if these charitable fantasies of Lubimoff told her of something, her eyes scrutinized him closely, much like those of a suspicious invalid who is able to recognize his own symptoms in those of a neighbor.

"You have been gambling."

Michael nodded sadly.

"And you have lost," she continued; "that goes without saying: I don't need to ask you. You, gambling!"

But her surprise was short.

"You have been gambling for my sake: I have guessed it. You said to yourself: 'I'm going to win what that crazy woman loses; men know more than women.' Oh, my poor boy, my poor boy, how grateful I am for your friendly intention!.. How much was it?"

On hearing the sum she gave him a look of compassion, but smiled immediately, as though the comradeship of misfortune made her own losses easier to bear.

They remained silent for a moment. Then she explained her presence on the square. The night before she had sworn she would never again come near the Casino, but habit…!

"I'm alone. Valeria went away immediately after lunch. She goes around like a crazy woman on account of that scientist you have at your house. They must have made an engagement somewhere. All she talks about is Spain, because the women there marry without dowries. As for 'the General,' don't talk to me about her: I don't want to hear her name; she is dead – dead forever, as far as I am concerned! And I'm so bored all by myself; I think of things that make me weep; I go out, and my feet take me here without my realizing it."

Then she added with a graceful entreaty:

"Take me somewhere, wherever you feel like. Let's go a long ways from here. Where can we go?"

The Prince showed the same hesitation. They continually moved in the same circle, from their houses to the center of Monte Carlo, the Casino, and seemed lost if they tried to go any farther. The war had done away with private automobiles; to go on an excursion it was necessary to get a permit in advance. One could find nothing save carriages drawn by feeble horses, rejected by the Army.

"Suppose we go to Monaco?" Alicia proposed.

Monaco was in sight, on the other side of the harbor; a street car ran from there to Monte Carlo every twenty minutes, and nevertheless she made this proposal as though speaking of some remote country.

They had both spent some twenty years there, continually seeing the rock which bore on its crest the old city of the Princes; but, as though those places were painted on a back drop in the theater, it had never entered their heads to go that far. Alicia vaguely recalled a visit to the Palace of the Sovereign and another to the Museum of Oceanography, without being able to formulate her impressions. Lubimoff also from his automobile had seen the garden, the old houses, and a large square, the one day that he had visited the Prince of Monaco in his old castle.

They decided on the trip with the glee of school children, and when the Duchess went to call a cab, Michael showed a certain hesitation as he searched through various pockets.

He had no money. He had dropped it all in the roulette, absolutely all. At the hotel he had asked them to charge his lunch, handing over his last few francs to the waiter as a tip.

Alicia greeted his worried look with bursts of laughter. Lubimoff unable to pay a cabman! Monte Carlo was the only place where you could see things like that.

"Poor boy, I'll pay. You can deduct it from the twenty thousand I owe you. No; not that, no; it will be a gift. You have given women so much money, let me be the first to pay a bill for you. What a luxury! I 'keeping' Prince Lubimoff."

They had gotten into the carriage, which was beginning to descend the slope toward La Condamine harbor.

"How people stare at us!" said Alicia. "They will think I am carrying you off by force. The Duchess de Delille, ruined, seduces a multi-millionaire Prince to make him her lover and get money out of him … and they don't know that I am the one that is paying! Come laugh a little. Are you annoyed that I should pay? Don't you think it is amusing?"

She talked of her lack of foresight and her folly with a certain pride, as though it were something which placed her above people of regular habits. The evening before she had been afraid of not having enough money left to buy food for the next day. But Valeria had spent the morning making valuable discoveries in the closets! Bank notes lost among the clothes, Casino chips forgotten among the books, and even a thousand franc bill used to wrap up an old cake of soap.

She suddenly stopped enumerating these finds.

"Look! Look!"

They were beside the harbor. She pointed out a lady who was walking along the shore, among the tall rose-bay bushes trimmed in the shape of trees. It was Clorinda. A gentleman who seemed to be waiting for her rose from the bench, and came forward to meet her. They both recognized Atilio Castro, and observed how he and "the General" greeted each other, and how they continued their promenade together, so absorbed in mutual contemplation, that they did not notice the carriage.

Michael smiled slightly. Himself there, beside Alicia, who was causing him to commit every sort of folly; and the other man waiting there for Doña Clorinda's arrival with all the emotion of a youth! Poor enemies of women!

"Don't talk to me about her!" Alicia exclaimed in a rage, in spite of the fact that her companion had said nothing. "I hate her… Think of poor Martinez forgotten. She quarrels with me to get him, takes him away from me, and then comes in search of Castro, while the other unhappy fellow is wandering about Monte Carlo. What a woman! She has done me so much harm! She is to blame for everything."

And as the Prince looked at her with a questioning air she explained her complaints with a tone of conviction. Her losses which had been so rapid and so complete, could not be explained logically. She had won for two weeks, and in a few hours had lost everything. How could that be? The evening before, as she was leaving the Casino, a respectable friend, an Italian Marchioness, a former dancer, who was very wise in matters of luck, and who had been gambling for the last thirty years in Monte Carlo, had revealed to her the cruel truth: "Duchess, there is some one who hates you; an envious friend who comes to your house and has cast an evil spell over you. That is the only way to explain what has happened. You must drive out the evil luck, turning it back on the person who gave it to you.

"So you see it couldn't be clearer: an envious friend who comes to my house – Clorinda; it can't be any one else. And no later than to-morrow I am going to drive away my bad luck, in the way the Marchioness recommended. Other gamblers follow her advice and are very successful."

It was the Three Wise Kings who possessed the power of undoing evil spells. It was necessary to cleanse away the rooms which "the General" had entered by burning in a small pan gold, incense and myrrh, the three presents of the monarchs who had come from afar. She had no gold; it was inaccessible on account of the war; but, according to the Witch-Marchioness, it would be the same if she burned wheat.

"And at the same time recite a prayer in Italian, a very pretty entreaty to the Three Kings, that sounds like a song, that says – that says – "

Unable to remember it, she opened her hand bag. She kept the prayer in her coin purse, written in lead pencil on one of the cards furnished by the Casino to keep track of bets. Michael looked at the contents of the purse with the curiosity always inspired by every object belonging to a woman who interests a man. Beside the mussed handkerchief he saw a little leather case, and hanging from it a gambler's fetish, a hand with the index and little finger extended like horns, to ward off bad luck. But beside the hand there hung another golden fetish, of such an unexpected, unheard of form, that Michael refused to believe what had passed before his eyes like a rapid vision.

Alicia drew back, pushing aside his inquisitive hand: "No, no!" And she closed the purse so rapidly that the silver rings almost caught his fingers. Blushing and smiling, she held him off, giving him a sly look, and at the same time shrinking like a naughty child.

"It is a gift from the Marchioness. The best she knows, to bring luck. Mine has gone. That is all you need to know. How curious you are!"

And while she pretended to be somewhat angry in order to avoid new explanations, Michael recalled the Rosary of Satan belonging to his friend Lewis and its strange ornaments.

The carriage began to ascend the slope towards Monaco. The ships and the harbor seemed to sink with each turn of the wheel. Verdant shades cooled the road, within sight of the luminous sea and of the yellowish mountains, that were taking on a rosy color under the afternoon sun.

Michael explained to his companion the strange features of the promontory that serves as a base for old Monaco. On the Southern part, among the rocks covered with century plants and prickly pear, the vegetation of the warm countries becomes acclimated with a facility that if one takes the latitude into account is truly extraordinary. On his visit to the palace of the Prince he had found in the warmer moats of the fortress, which are like natural hothouses, the same damp sticky heat that one finds in the forests of Equador, with their Brazilian palm trees that rise many yards in quest of light. On the other hand, without leaving the rock, one finds on the northern side, where there is little sunlight, ferns from the cold countries, vegetation from the Vosges Mountains, which got here no one knows how, and took root beside the Mediterranean.

Alicia, not wishing to seem less informed, talked about the San Martino Gardens. She had not seen them, but she imagined that they were between the Museum of Oceanography and the Cathedral. Valeria had not been able to talk about anything else during the last few weeks, and described them as though they were the most interesting gardens in the world. She had seen them in good company, and this had exerted a strong influence on her powers of vision. It was doubtless Novoa who had revealed to her this Paradise.

"Supposing we were to meet them!" said Alicia, laughingly.

The carriage passed between two little towers, capped with tiles, that marked the entrance to the walled enclosure of Monaco. The harbor lay far below, with its boats that seemed so tiny. On the other side of the sheet of water shone the cupolas of the Casino and the many Monte Carlo hotels, with their multi-colored façades, the windows of their balconies and belvideres. It was impossible to make out the people. Automobiles were gliding along like tiny insects on the slope that descended to La Condamine.

They followed the asphalt avenue, between two narrow dense gardens, leading to the Museum of Oceanography.

"Look at them!" said Alicia with an expression of triumph, as she nudged the Prince at the same time.

When the latter turned his head all he could see were two indistinct forms hiding in a side path.

"It is they, you may be sure," continued the Duchess, laughing. "They were walking in the middle of the avenue. Valeria is very quick; she turned when she heard the sound of a carriage, and recognized me immediately. She hurried the scientist away as though she were dragging him along."

She stopped laughing, and her features took on a look of sad solemnity.

"Happy pair! What dreams! We have all gone through the same thing. The worst of it is that we want to keep on going in quest of something further, when we ought to remain satisfied with what we have."

The Prince nodded, repeating briefly:

"Happy pair!"

His voice sounded like a requiem. These successive meetings had made him think of the end of the community of which he was the ridiculous head. First of all, Castro; then, Novoa. Even the Colonel at that very moment was walking up and down in front of a millinery shop waiting for the gardener's little girl. Spadoni was the only one left, but his loyalty counted for little. As far as the latter was concerned, nothing feminine existed except the roulette wheel.

The carriage stopped beyond the Museum of Oceanography, where the San Martino Garden began. Alicia paid the driver.

"We must economize," she said gravely. "We shall return on foot."

They followed a network of winding paths, ascending and descending the gulleys of the slope. The tiny plateaus had been converted into stone lookouts, from which the view embraced an immense expanse of sea. Occasionally at dawn one could distinguish the distant profile of the Mountain of Corsica. Since the gardens were far above the Mediterranean, the horizon line was so high that one seemed to be looking upwards when viewing it. The pine trees rose in slender black colonnades and between the thin trunks one could see the dark Mediterranean suspended like a curtain. Only the murmuring tops of the sharp trees emerged in the diaphanous azure of the skies. Below the vegetation was composed of wild hardy plants breathing out strong odors, plants that were unaffected by the salty exhalations of the sea; prickly pear, lobes of which were surmounted by red fruit; small century plants whose twisted blades intertwined like tentacles of green pulp.

Alicia admired this garden. According to her it was a maritime garden, in harmony with the nearby Museum and the landscape. The trunks of the trees seemed like the masts of ships; the plants amassed at their feet had the radiating enveloping form of the monsters of the ocean depths. Other vegetation of a foreign origin recalled images of warm countries, and of distant parts, filled with odors and swarming with crowds of yellow and copper-colored men. Through the straight trunks of the trees, one could see five schooners, motionless on the horizon with their sails hanging.

A train of smoke followed the evolutions of a slim torpedo boat steaming around the white, timid flock, like a watch dog.

Looking over the stone balconies one could peer into the ocean to enormous depths. The bold red cliff buried itself vertically in the waters darkened by shadows, or took shelter behind landslides of rocks continually surrounded by foam. On one side Cap-Martin advanced, repelling the onrush of the waves, circles of white caps that constantly succeeded one another, rising from the azure meadows; still farther on lay the Italian coast, showing rose-colored through the melancholy afternoon mist, and on the opposite side lay Cap-d'Ail and Cap-Ferrat, above whose backs embossed with the green of the seas, and dotted with the white of the villas – the golden winding sheet, which was to enshroud the dying sun, began to rise.

"Beautiful! very beautiful!"