ian fleming.casino royale-第15部分

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　Was　this　an　omen　for　him　or　for　Le　Chiffre？
　The　two　cards　slithered　towards　him　across　the　green　sea。
　Like　an　octopus　under　a　rock；　Le　Chiffre　watched　him　from　the　other　side　of　the　table。
　Bond　reached　out　a　steady　right　hand　and　drew　the　cards　towards　him。　Would　it　be　the　lift　of　the　heart　which　a　nine　brings；　or　an　eight　brings？
　He　fanned　the　two　cards　under　the　curtain　of　his　hand。　The　muscles　of　his　jaw　rippled　as　he　clenched　his　teeth。　His　whole　body　stiffened　in　a　reflex　of　self…defence。
　He　had　two　queens；　two　red　queens。
　They　looked　roguishly　back　at　him　from　the　shadows。　They　were　the　worst。　They　were　nothing。　Zero。　Baccarat。
　〃A　card；〃　said　Bond　fighting　to　keep　hopelessness　out　of　his　voice。　He　felt　Le　Chiffre's　eyes　boring　into　his　brain。
　The　banker　slowly　turned　his　own　two　cards　face　up。
　He　had　a　count　of　three　…　a　king　and　a　black　three。
　Bond　softly　exhaled　a　cloud　of　tobacco　smoke。　He　still　had　a　chance。　Now　he　was　really　faced　with　the　moment　of　truth。　Le　Chiffre　slapped　the　shoe；　slipped　out　a　card；　Bond's　fate；　and　slowly　turned　it　face　up。
　It　was　a　nine；　a　wonderful　nine　of　hearts；　the　card　known　in　gipsy　magic　as　'a　whisper　of　love；　a　whisper　of　hate'；　the　card　that　meant　almost　certain　victory　for　Bond。
　The　croupier　slipped　it　delicately　across。　To　Le　Chiffre　it　meant　nothing。　Bond　might　have　had　a　one；　in　which　case　he　now　had　ten　points；　or　nothing；　or　baccarat；　as　it　is　called。　Or　he　might　have　had　a　two；　three；　four；　or　even　five。　In　which　case；　with　the　nine；　his　maximum　count　would　be　four。
　Holding　a　three　and　giving　nine　is　one　of　the　moot　situations　at　the　game。　The　odds　are　so　nearly　divided　between　to　draw　or　not　to　draw。　Bond　let　the　banker　sweat　it　out。　Since　his　nine　could　only　be　equalled　by　the　banker　drawing　a　six；　he　would　normally　have　shown　his　count　if　it　had　been　a　friendly　game。
　Bond's　cards　lay　on　the　table　before　him；　the　two　impersonal　pale　pink…patterned　backs　and　the　faced　nine　of　hearts。　To　Le　Chiffre　the　nine　might　be　telling　the　truth　or　many　variations　of　lies。
　The　whole　secret　lay　in　the　reverse　of　the　two　pink　backs　where　the　pair　of　queens　kissed　the　green　cloth。
　The　sweat　was　running　down　either　side　of　the　banker's　beaky　nose。　His　thick　tongue　came　out　slyly　and　licked　a　drop　out　of　the　corner　of　his　red　gash　of　a　mouth。　He　looked　at　Bond's　cards；　and　then　at　his　own；　and　then　back　at　Bond's。
　Then　his　whole　body　shrugged　and　he　slipped　out　a　card　for　himself　from　the　lisping　shoe。
　He　faced　it。　The　table　craned。　It　was　a　wonderful　card；　a　five。
　'Huit　à　la　banque；'　said　the　croupier。
　As　Bond　sat　silent；　Le　Chiffre　suddenly　grinned　wolfishly。　He　must　have　won。
　The　croupier's　spatula　reached　almost　apologetically　across　the　table。　There　was　not　a　man　at　the　table　who　did　not　believe　Bond　was　defeated。
　The　spatula　flicked　the　two　pink　cards　over　on　their　backs。　The　gay　red　queens　smiled　up　at　the　lights。
　'Et　le　neuf。'
　A　great　gasp　went　up　round　the　table；　and　then　a　hubbub　of　talk。
　Bond's　eyes　were　on　Le　Chiffre。　The　big　man　fell　back　in　his　chair　as　if　slugged　above　the　heart。　His　mouth　opened　and　shut　once　or　twice　and　his　right　hand　felt　at　his　throat。　Then　he　rocked　back。　His　lips　were　grey。
　As　the　huge　stack　of　plaques　was　shunted　across　the　table　to　Bond　the　banker　reached　into　an　inner　pocket　of　his　jacket　and　threw　a　wad　of　notes　on　to　the　table。
　The　croupier　riffled　through　them。
　'Un　banco　de　dix　millions；'　he　announced。　He　slapped　down　their　equivalent　in　ten　plaques　of　a　million　each。
　This　is　the　kill；　thought　Bond。　This　man　has　reached　the　point　of　no　return。　This　is　the　last　of　his　capital。　He　has　e　to　where　I　stood　an　hour　ago　and　he　is　making　the　last　gesture　that　I　made。　But　if　this　man　loses；　there　is　no　one　to　e　to　his　aid；　no　miracle　to　help　him。
　Bond　sat　back　and　lit　a　cigarette。　On　a　small　table　beside　him　half　a　bottle　of　Clicquot　and　a　glass　had　materialized。　Without　asking　who　the　benefactor　was；　Bond　filled　the　glass　to　the　brim　and　drank　it　down　in　two　long　draughts。
　Then　he　leant　back　with　his　arms　curled　forward　on　the　table　in　front　of　him　like　the　arms　of　a　wrestler　seeking　a　hold　at　the　opening　of　a　bout　of　ju…jitsu。
　The　players　on　his　left　remained　silent。
　'Banco；'　he　said；　speaking　straight　at　Le　Chiffre。
　Once　more　the　two　cards　were　borne　over　to　him　and　this　time　the　croupier　slipped　them　into　the　green　lagoon　between　the　outstretched　arms。
　Bond　curled　his　right　hand　in；　glanced　briefly　down　and　flipped　the　cards　face　up　into　the　middle　of　the　table。
　'Le　Neuf；'　said　the　croupier。
　Le　Chiffre　was　gazing　down　at　his　own　two　black　kings。
　'Et　le　baccarat；'　and　the　croupier　eased　across　the　table　the　fat　tide　of　plaques。
　Le　Chiffre　watched　them　go　to　join　the　serried　millions　in　the　shadow　of　Bond's　left　arm；　then　he　stood　up　slowly　and　without　a　word　he　brushed　past　the　players　to　the　break　in　the　rail。　He　unhooked　the　velvet…covered　chain　and　let　it　fall。　The　spectators　opened　a　way　for　him。　They　looked　at　him　curiously　and　rather　fearfully　as　if　he　carried　the　smell　of　death　on　him。　Then　he　vanished　from　Bond's　sight。
　Bond　stood　up。　He　took　a　hundred…mille　plaque　from　the　stacks　beside　him　and　slipped　it　across　the　table　to　the　chef　de　partie。　He　cut　short　the　effusive　thanks　and　asked　the　croupier　to　have　his　winnings　carried　to　the　caisse。　The　other　players　were　leaving　their　seats。　With　no　bankers　there　could　be　no　game；　and　by　now　it　was　half　past　two。　He　exchanged　some　pleasant　words　with　his　neighbours　to　right　and　left　and　then　ducked　under　the　rail　to　where　Vesper　and　Felix　Leiter　were　waiting　for　him。
　Together　they　walked　over　to　the　caisse。　Bond　was　invited　to　e　into　the　private　office　of　the　Casino　directors。　On　the　desk　lay　his　huge　pile　of　chips。　He　added　the　contents　of　his　pockets　to　it。
　In　all　there　was　over　seventy　million　francs。
　Bond　took　Felix　Leiter's　money　in　notes　and　took　a　cheque　to　cash　on　the　Credit　Lyonnais　for　the　remaining　forty…odd　million。　He　was　congratulated　warmly　on　his　winnings。　The　directors　hoped　that　he　would　be　playing　again　that　evening。
　Bond　gave　an　evasive　reply。　He　walked　over　to　the　bar　and　handed　Leiter's　money　to　him。　For　a　few　minutes　they　discussed　the　game　over　a　bottle　of　champagne。　Leiter　took　a　。45　bullet　out　of　his　pocket　and　placed　it　on　the　table。
　'I　gave　the　gun　to　Mathis；'　he　said。　'He's　taken　it　away。　He　was　as　puzzled　as　we　were　by　the　spill　you　took。　He　was　standing　at　the　back　of　the　crowd　with　one　of　his　men　when　it　happened。　The　gunman　got　away　without　difficulty。　You　can　imagine　how　they　kicked　themselves　when　they　saw　the　gun。　Mathis　gave　me　this　bullet　to　show　you　what　you　escaped。　The　nose　has　been　cut　with　a　dumdum　cross。　You'd　have　been　in　a　terrible　mess。　But　they　can't　tie　it　on　to　Le　Chiffre。　The　man　came　in　alone。　They've　got　the　form　he　filled　up　to　get　his　entrance　card。　Of　course；　it'll　all　be　phony。　He　got　permission　to　bring　the　stick　in　with　him。　He　had　a　certificate　for　a　war…wound　pension。　These　people　certainly　get　themselves　well　organized。　They've　got　his　prints　and　they're　on　the　Belinograph　to　Paris；　so　we　may　hear　more　about　him　in　the　morning。'　Felix　Leiter　tapped　out　another　cigarette。　'Anyway；　all's　well　that　ends　well。　You　certainly　took　Le　Chiffre　for　a　ride　at　the　end；　though　we　had　some　bad　moments。　I　expect　you　did　too。'
　Bond　smiled。　'That　envelope　was　the　most　wonderful　thing　that　ever　happened　to　me。　I　thought　I　was　really　finished。　It　wasn't　at　all　a　pleasant　feeling。　Talk　about　a　friend　in　need。　One　day　I'll　try　and　return　the　pliment。'
　He　rose。　'I'll　just　go　over　to　the　hotel　and　put　this　away；'　he　said；　tapping　his　pocket。　'I　don't　like　wandering　around　with　Le　Chiffre's　death…warrant　on　me。　He　might　get　ideas。　Then　I'd　like　to　celebrate　a　bit。　What　do　you　think？'
　He　turned　to　Vesper。　She　had　hardly　said　a　word　since　the　end　of　the　game。
　'Shall　we　have　a　glass　of　champagne　in　the　night…club　before　we　go　to　bed？　It's　called　the　Roi　Galant。　You　get　to　it　through　the　public　rooms。　It　looks　quite　cheerful。'
　'I　think　I'd　love　to；'　said　Vesper。　'I'll　tidy　up　while　you　put　your　winnings　away。　I'll　meet　you　in　the　entrance　hall。'
　'What　about　you；　Felix？'　Bond　hoped　he　could　be　alone　with　Vesper。
　Leiter　looked　at　him　and　read　his　mind。
　'I'd　rather　take　a　little　rest　before　breakfast；'　he　said。　'It's　been　quite　a　day　and　I　expect　Paris　will　want　me　to　do　a　bit　of　mopping…up　tomorrow。　There　are　several　loose　ends　you　won't　have　to　worry　about。　I　shall。　I'll　walk　over　to　the　hotel　with　you。　Might　as　well　convoy　the　treasure　ship　right　into　port。'
　They　strolled　over　through　the　shadows　cast　by　the　full　moon。　Both　had　their　hands　on　their　guns。　It　was　three　o'clock　in　the　morning；　but　there　were　several　people　about　and　the　courtyard　of　the　Casino　was　still　lined　with　motorcars。
　The　short　walk　was　uneventful。
　At　the　hotel；　Leiter　insisted　on　acpanying　Bond　to　his　room。　It　was　as　Bond　had　left　it　six　hours　before。
　'No　reception　mittee；'　observed　Leiter；　'but　I　wouldn't　put　it　past　them　to　try　a　last　throw。　Do　you　think　I　ought　to　stay　up　and　keep　you　two　pany？'
　'You　get　your　sleep；'　said　Bond。　'Do