ian fleming.casino royale-第15部分

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ed　four　million　francs　and　returned　the　remainder　to　Bond。
　'Un　banco　de　huit　millions。'
　'Suivi；'　said　Bond。
　And　lost　again；　to　a　natural　nine。
　In　two　coups　he　had　lost　twelve　million　francs。　By　scraping　the　barrel；　he　had　just　sixteen　million　francs　left；　exactly　the　amount　of　the　next　banco。
　Suddenly　Bond　felt　the　sweat　on　his　palms。　Like　snow　in　sunshine　his　capital　had　melted。　With　the　covetous　deliberation　of　the　winning　gambler；　Le　Chiffre　was　tapping　a　light　tattoo　on　the　table　with　his　right　hand。　Bond　looked　across　into　the　eyes　of　murky　basalt。　They　held　an　ironical　question。　'Do　you　want　the　full　treatment？'　they　seemed　to　ask。
　'Suivi；'　Bond　said　softly。
　He　took　some　notes　and　plaques　out　of　his　right　hand　pocket　and　the　entire　stack　of　notes　out　of　his　left　and　pushed　them　forward。　There　was　no　hint　in　his　movements　that　this　would　be　his　last　stake。
　His　mouth　felt　suddenly　as　dry　as　flock　wall…paper。　He　looked　up　and　saw　Vesper　and　Felix　Leiter　standing　where　the　gunman　with　the　stick　had　stood。　He　did　not　know　how　long　they　had　been　standing　there。　Leiter　looked　faintly　worried；　but　Vesper　smiled　encouragement　at　him。
　He　heard　a　faint　rattle　on　the　rail　behind　him　and　turned　his　head。　The　battery　of　bad　teeth　under　the　black　moustache　gaped　vacantly　back　at　him。
　'Le　jeu　est　fait；'　said　the　croupier；　and　the　two　cards　came　slithering　towards　him　over　the　green　baize　…　a　green　baize　which　was　no　longer　smooth；　but　thick　now；　and　furry　and　almost　choking；　its　colour　as　livid　as　the　grass　on　a　fresh　tomb。
　The　light　from　the　broad　satin…lined　shades　which　had　seemed　so　weling　now　seemed　to　take　the　colour　out　of　his　hand　as　he　glanced　at　the　cards。　Then　he　looked　again。
　It　was　nearly　as　bad　as　it　could　have　been　…　the　king　of　hearts　and　an　ace；　the　ace　of　spades。　It　squinted　up　at　him　like　a　black　widow　spider。
　'A　card。'　He　still　kept　all　emotion　out　of　his　voice。
　Le　Chiffre　faced　his　own　two　cards。　He　had　a　queen　and　a　black　five。　He　looked　at　Bond　and　pressed　out　another　card　with　a　wide　forefinger。　The　table　was　absolutely　silent。　He　faced　it　and　flicked　it　away。　The　croupier　lifted　it　delicately　with　his　spatula　and　slipped　it　over　to　Bond。　It　was　a　good　card；　the　five　of　hearts；　but　to　Bond　it　was　a　difficult　fingerprint　in　dried　blood。　He　now　had　a　count　of　six　and　Le　Chiffre　a　count　of　five；　but　the　banker　having　a　five　and　giving　a　five；　would　and　must　draw　another　card　and　try　and　improve　with　a　one；　two；　three　or　four。　Drawing　any　other　card　he　would　be　defeated。
　The　odds　were　on　Bond's　side；　but　now　it　was　Le　Chiffre　who　looked　across　into　Bond's　eyes　and　hardly　glanced　at　the　card　as　he　flicked　it　face　upwards　on　the　table。
　It　was；　unnecessarily；　the　best；　a　four；　giving　the　bank　a　count　of　nine。　He　had　won；　almost　slowing　up。
　Bond　was　beaten　and　cleaned　out。
　
　
　CHAPTER　12　…　THE　DEADLY　TUBE
　Bond　sat　silent；　frozen　with　defeat。　He　opened　his　wide　black　case　and　took　out　a　cigarette。　He　snapped　open　the　tiny　jaws　of　the　Ronson　and　lit　the　cigarette　and　put　the　lighter　back　on　the　table。　He　took　a　deep　lungful　of　smoke　and　expelled　it　between　his　teeth　with　a　faint　hiss。
　What　now？　Back　to　the　hotel　and　bed；　avoiding　the　miserating　eyes　of　Mathis　and　Leiter　and　Vesper。　Back　to　the　telephone　call　to　London；　and　then　tomorrow　the　plane　home；　the　taxi　up　to　Regent's　Park；　the　walk　up　the　stairs　and　along　the　corridor；　and　M's　cold　face　across　the　table；　his　forced　sympathy；　his　'better　luck　next　time'　and；　of　course；　there　couldn't　be　one；　not　another　chance　like　this。
　He　looked　round　the　table　and　up　at　the　spectators。　Few　were　looking　at　him。　They　were　waiting　while　the　croupier　counted　the　money　and　piled　up　the　chips　in　a　neat　stack　in　front　of　the　banker；　waiting　to　see　if　anyone　would　conceivably　challenge　this　huge　bank　of　thirty…two　million　Francs；　this　wonderful　run　of　banker's　luck。
　Leiter　had　vanished；　not　wishing　to　look　Bond　in　the　eye　after　the　knock…out；　he　supposed。　Yet　Vesper　looked　curiously　unmoved；　she　gave　him　a　smile　of　encouragement。　But　then；　Bond　reflected；　she　knew　nothing　of　the　game。　Had　no　notion；　probably；　of　the　bitterness　of　his　defeat。
　The　huissier　was　ing　towards　Bond　inside　the　rail。　He　stopped　beside　him。　Bent　over　him。　Placed　a　squat　envelope　beside　Bond　on　the　table。　It　was　as　thick　as　a　dictionary。　Said　something　about　the　caisse。　Moved　away　again。
　Bond's　heart　thumped。　He　took　the　heavy　anonymous　envelope　below　the　level　of　the　table　and　slit　it　open　with　his　thumbnail；　noticing　that　the　gum　was　still　wet　on　the　flap。
　Unbelieving　and　yet　knowing　it　was　true；　he　felt　the　broad　wads　of　notes。　He　slipped　them　into　his　pockets；　retaining　the　half…sheet　of　note…paper　which　was　pinned　to　the　topmost　of　them。　He　glanced　at　it　in　the　shadow　below　the　table。　There　was　one　line　of　writing　in　ink：　'Marshall　Aid。　Thirty…two　million　francs。　With　the　pliments　of　the　USA。'
　Bond　swallowed。　He　looked　over　towards　Vesper。　Felix　Leiter　was　again　standing　beside　her。　He　grinned　slightly　and　Bond　smiled　back　and　raised　his　hand　from　the　table　in　a　small　gesture　of　benediction。　Then　he　set　his　mind　to　sweeping　away　all　traces　of　the　sense　of　plete　defeat　which　had　swamped　him　a　few　minutes　before。　This　was　a　reprieve；　but　only　a　reprieve。　There　could　be　no　more　miracles。　This　time　he　had　to　win　…　if　Le　Chiffre　had　not　already　made　his　fifty　million　…　if　he　was　going　to　go　on！
　The　croupier　had　pleted　his　task　of　puting　the　cagnotte；　changing　Bond's　notes　into　plaques　and　making　a　pile　of　the　giant　stake　in　the　middle　of　the　table。
　There　lay　thirty…two　thousand　pounds。　Perhaps；　thought　Bond；　Le　Chiffre　needed　just　one　more　coup；　even　a　minor　one　of　a　few　million　francs；　to　achieve　his　object。　Then　he　would　have　made　his　fifty　million　francs　and　would　leave　the　table。　By　tomorrow　his　deficits　would　be　covered　and　his　position　secure。
　He　showed　no　signs　of　moving　and　Bond　guessed　with　relief　that　somehow　he　must　have　overestimated　Le　Chiffre's　resources。
　The　then　only　hope；　thought　Bond；　was　to　stamp　on　him　now。　Not　to　share　the　bank　with　the　table；　or　to　take　some　minor　part　of　it；　but　to　go　the　whole　hog。　This　would　really　jolt　Le　Chiffre。　He　would　hate　to　see　more　than　ten　or　fifteen　million　of　the　stake　covered；　and　he　could　not　possibly　expect　anyone　to　banco　the　entire　thirty…two　millions。　He　might　not　know　that　Bond　had　been　cleaned　out；　but　he　must　imagine　that　Bond　had　by　now　only　small　reserves。　He　could　not　know　of　the　contents　of　the　envelope　if　he　did；　he　would　probably　withdraw　the　bank　and　start　all　over　again　on　the　wearisome　journey　up　from　the　five　hundred　thousand　franc　opening　bet。
　The　analysis　was　right。
　Le　Chiffre　needed　another　eight　million。
　At　last　he　nodded。
　'Un　banco　de　trente…deux　millions。'
　The　croupier's　voice　rang　out。　A　silence　built　itself　up　round　the　table。
　'Un　banco　de　trente…deux　millions。'
　In　a　louder；　prouder　voice　the　chef　de　partie　took　up　the　cry；　hoping　to　draw　big　money　away　from　the　neighbouring　chemin…de…fer　tables。　Besides；　this　was　wonderful　publicity。　The　stake　had　only　once　been　reached　in　the　history　of　baccarat　…　at　Deauville　in　1950。　The　rival　Casino　de　la　Forêt　at　Le　Touquet　had　never　got　near　it。
　It　was　then　that　Bond　leant　slightly　forward。
　'Suivi；'　he　said　quietly。
　There　was　an　excited　buzz　round　the　table。　The　word　ran　through　the　Casino。　People　crowded　in。　Thirty…two　million！　For　most　of　them　it　was　more　than　they　had　earned　all　their　lives。　It　was　their　savings　and　the　savings　of　their　families。　It　was；　literally；　a　small　fortune。
　One　of　the　Casino　directors　consulted　with　the　chef　de　partie。　The　chef　de　partie　turned　apologetically　to　Bond。
　'Excusez　moi；　monsieur。　La　mise？'
　It　was　an　indication　that　Bond　really　must　show　he　had　the　money　to　cover　the　bet。　They　knew；　of　course；　that　he　was　a　very　wealthy　man；　but　after　all；　thirty…two　millions！　And　it　sometimes　happened　that　desperate　people　would　bet　without　a　sou　in　the　world　and　cheerfully　go　to　prison　if　they　lost。
　'Mes　excuses；　Monsieur　Bond；'　added　the　chef　de　partie　obsequiously。
　It　was　when　Bond　shovelled　the　great　wad　of　notes　out　on　to　the　table　and　t