Life in a German Crack RegimentBaudissin, Wolf Ernst Hugo Emil, Graf von
General
Life in a German Crack Regiment
Baudissin, Wolf Ernst Hugo Emil, Graf von
Germany. Heer -- Military life -- Fiction; Soldiers -- Fiction
The Uhlan counted out his money. "I can stake for the last time a
thousand marks on the seven. If I lose and have to pay out seven
thousand marks, I shall break the bank."
An indescribable excitement took possession of them all. Never before
had they seen the Uhlan lose so much, and the "Golden Butterflies"
were filled with pride that one of their officers should have caused
this extraordinary state of things.
The last stake! The seven had so often brought Willberg good luck,
surely it would stay with him to the end.
"A thousand marks on the seven."
The banker shuffled the cards. "Eight!" and he shovelled in the money.
"A thousand on the seven again."
The cards showed the six! For one moment the Uhlan's eyes glittered.
Now he knew he had won the game. It could not last more than a
quarter of an hour, for he had won back all he had lost. It really
would have been inconceivable that he could have lost to-day,
especially to a mere child like this, who gambled so imprudently and
thoughtlessly that he must lose everything he had won. And Willberg
went on losing; the heap of money shrunk more and more. Several times
some of his comrades were on the point of saying, "Stop; save at
least a couple of thousand marks." But that wouldn't do; it wouldn't
be fair. As earlier they had allowed the Uhlan, who was their guest,
to get to the point of losing everything, they could not now warn
Willberg.
"Now, Herr Willberg, have you the courage to go on?"
He sat there, white as a corpse; every drop of blood had vanished
from his face. He had lost all; his £50 note of which he had been so
proud; not the smallest gold coin did he possess.
"Will you go on playing?" the Uhlan asked for the second time.
Willberg looked round. Perhaps one of his companions would lend him
some money. But the adjutant stepped in: "No, that's enough for you
to-day. Some of us others will now try our luck."
They went on playing, but Willberg went into an ante-room and sank
down on a sofa. Suddenly he was overcome by a nervous reaction; he
buried his face in his hands and burst into convulsive sobs.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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