ian fleming.casino royale-第12节

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　Then　came　Lady　Danvers　at　Number　3　and　Numbers　4　and　5　were　a　Mr　and　Mrs　Du　Pont；　rich…looking　and　might　or　might　not　have　some　of　the　real　Du　Pont　money　behind　them。　Bond　guessed　they　would　be　stayers。　They　both　had　a　business…like　look　about　them　and　were　talking　together　easily　and　cheerfully　as　if　they　felt　very　much　at　home　at　the　big　game。　Bond　was　quite　happy　to　have　them　next　to　him　…　Mrs　Du　Pont　sat　at　Number　5　…　and　he　felt　prepared　to　share　with　them　or　with　Monsieur　Sixte　on　his　right；　if　they　found　themselves　faced　with　too　big　a　bank。
　At　Number　8　was　the　Maharajah　of　a　small　Indian　state；　probably　with　all　his　wartime　sterling　balances　to　play　with。　Bond's　experience　told　him　that　few　of　the　Asiatic　races　were　courageous　gamblers；　even　the　much…vaunted　Chinese　being　inclined　to　lose　heart　if　the　going　was　bad。　But　the　Maharajah　would　probably　stay　in　the　game　and　stand　some　heavy　losses　if　they　were　gradual。
　Number　10　was　a　prosperous…looking　young　Italian；　Signor　Tomelli；　who　possibly　had　plenty　of　money　from　rackrents　in　Milan　and　would　probably　play　a　dashing　and　foolish　game。　He　might　lose　his　temper　and　make　a　scene。
　Bond　had　just　finished　his　sketchy　summing…up　of　the　players　when　Le　Chiffre；　with　the　silence　and　economy　of　movement　of　a　big　fish；　came　through　the　opening　in　the　brass　rail　and；　with　a　cold　smile　of　wele　for　the　table；　took　his　place　directly　opposite　Bond　in　the　banker's　chair。
　With　the　same　economy　of　movements　the　thick　slab　of　cards　which　the　croupier　had　placed　on　the　table　squarely　between　his　blunt　relaxed　hands。　Then；　as　the　croupier　fitted　the　six　packs　with　one　swift　exact　motion　into　the　metal　and　wooden　shoe；　Le　Chiffre　said　something　quietly　to　him。
　'Messieurs；　mesdames；　les　jeux　sont　faits。　Un　banco　de　cinq　cent　mille；'　and　as　the　Greek　at　Number　1　tapped　the　table　in　front　of　his　fat　pile　of　hundred…mille　plaques；　'Le　banco　est　fait。'
　Le　Chiffre　crouched　over　the　shoe。　He　gave　it　a　short　deliberate　slap　to　settle　the　cards；　the　first　of　which　showed　its　semicircular　pale　pink　tongue　through　the　slanting　aluminium　mouth　of　the　shoe。　Then；　with　a　thick　white　fore…finger　he　pressed　gently　on　the　pink　tongue　and　slipped　out　the　first　card　six　inches　or　a　foot　towards　the　Greek　on　his　right　hand。　Then　he　slipped　out　a　card　for　himself；　then　another　for　the　Greek；　then　one　more　for　himself
　He　sat　immobile；　not　touching　his　own　cards。
　He　looked　at　the　Greek's　face。
　With　his　flat　wooden　spatula；　like　a　long　bricklayer's　trowel；　the　croupier　delicately　lifted　up　the　Greek's　two　cards　and　dropped　them　with　a　quick　movement　an　extra　few　inches　to　the　right　so　that　they　lay　just　before　the　Greek's　pale　hairy　hands　which　lay　inert　like　two　watchful　pink　crabs　on　the　table。
　The　two　pink　crabs　scuttled　out　together　and　the　Greek　gathered　the　cards　into　his　wide　left　hand　and　cautiously　bent　his　head　so　that　he　could　see；　in　the　shadow　made　by　his　cupped　hand；　the　value　of　the　bottom　of　the　two　cards。　Then　he　slowly　inserted　the　forefinger　of　his　right　hand　and　slipped　the　bottom　card　slightly　sideways　so　that　the　value　of　the　top　card　was　also　just　perceptible。
　His　face　was　quite　impassive。　He　flattened　out　his　left　hand　on　the　table　and　then　withdrew　it；　leaving　the　two　pink　cards　face　down　before　him；　their　secret　unrevealed。
　Then　he　lifted　his　head　and　looked　Le　Chiffre　in　the　eye。
　'Non；'　said　the　Greek　flatly。
　From　the　decision　to　stand　on　his　two　cards　and　not　ask　for　another；　it　was　clear　that　the　Greek　had　a　five；　or　a　six；　or　a　seven。　To　be　certain　of　winning；　the　banker　had　to　reveal　an　eight　or　a　nine。　If　the　banker　failed　to　show　either　figure；　he　also　had　the　right　to　take　another　card　which　might　or　might　not　improve　his　count。
　Le　Chiffre's　hands　were　clasped　in　front　of　him；　his　two　cards　three　or　four　inches　away。　With　his　right　hand　he　picked　up　the　two　cards　and　turned　them　face　upwards　on　the　table　with　a　faint　snap。
　They　were　a　four　and　a　five；　an　undefeatable　natural　nine。
　He　had　won。
　'Neuf　à　la　banque；'　quietly　said　the　croupier。　With　his　spatula　he　faced　the　Greek's　two　cards；　'Et　le　sept；'　he　said　unemotionally；　lifting　up　gently　the　corpses　of　the　seven　and　queen　and　slipping　them　through　the　wide　slot　in　the　table　near　his　chair　which　leads　into　the　gib　metal　canister　to　which　all　dead　cards　are　consigned。　Le　Chiffre's　two　cards　followed　them　with　a　faint　rattle　which　es　from　the　canister　at　the　beginning　of　each　session　before　the　discards　have　made　a　cushion　over　the　metal　floor　of　their　oubliette。
　The　Greek　pushed　forward　five　plaques　of　one　hundred　thousand　and　the　croupier　added　these　to　Le　Chiffre's　half　million　plaque　which　lay　in　the　centre　of　the　table。　From　each　bet　the　Casino　takes　a　tiny　percentage；　the　cagnotte；　but　it　is　usual　at　a　big　game　for　the　banker　to　subscribe　this　himself　either　in　a　prearranged　lump　or　by　contributions　at　the　end　of　each　hand；　so　that　the　amount　of　the　bank's　stake　can　always　be　a　round　figure。　Le　Chiffre　had　chosen　the　second　course。
　The　croupier　slipped　some　counters　through　the　slot　in　the　table　which　receives　the　cagnotte　and　announced　quietly：
　'Un　banco　d'un　million。'
　'Suivi；'　murmured　the　Greek；　meaning　that　he　exercised　his　right　to　follow　up　his　lost　bet。
　Bond　lit　a　cigarette　and　settled　himself　in　his　chair。　The　long　game　was　launched　and　the　sequence　of　these　gestures　and　the　reiteration　of　this　subdued　litany　would　continue　until　the　end　came　and　the　players　dispersed。　Then　the　enigmatic　cards　would　be　burnt　or　defaced；　a　shroud　would　be　draped　over　the　table　and　the　grass…green　baize　battlefield　would　soak　up　the　blood　of　its　victims　and　refresh　itself。
　The　Greek；　after　taking　a　third　card；　could　achieve　no　better　than　a　four　to　the　bank's　seven。
　'Un　banco　de　deux　millions；'　said　the　croupier。
　The　players　on　Bond's　left　remained　silent。
　'Banco；'　said　Bond。
　
　
　CHAPTER　11　…　MOMENT　OF　TRUTH
　Le　Chiffre　looked　incuriously　at　him；　the　whites　of　his　eyes；　which　showed　all　round　the　irises；　lending　something　impassive　and　doll…like　to　his　gaze。
　He　slowly　removed　one　thick　hand　from　the　table　and　slipped　it　into　the　pocket　of　his　dinner…jacket。　The　hand　came　out　holding　a　small　metal　cylinder　with　a　cap　which　Le　Chiffre　unscrewed。　He　inserted　the　nozzle　of　the　cylinder；　with　an　obscene　deliberation；　twice　into　each　black　nostril　in　turn；　and　luxuriously　inhaled　the　benzedrine　vapour。
　Unhurriedly　he　pocketed　the　inhaler；　then　his　hand　came　quickly　back　above　the　level　of　the　table　and　gave　the　shoe　its　usual　hard；　sharp　slap。
　During　this　offensive　pantomime　Bond　had　coldly　held　the　banker's　gaze；　taking　in　the　wide　expanse　of　white　face　surmounted　by　the　short　abrupt　cliff　of　reddish…brown　hair；　the　unsmiling　wet　red　mouth　and　the　impressive　width　of　the　shoulders；　loosely　draped　in　a　massively　cut　dinner…jacket。
　But　for　the　high…lights　on　the　satin　of　the　shawl…cut　lapels；　he　might　have　been　faced　by　the　thick　bust　of　a　black…fleeced　Minotaur　rising　out　of　a　green　grass　field。
　Bond　slipped　a　packet　of　notes　on　to　the　table　without　counting　them。　If　he　lost　the　croupier　would　extract　what　was　necessary　to　cover　the　bet；　but　the　easy　gesture　conveyed　that　Bond　didn't　expect　to　lose　and　that；　this　was　only　a　token　display　from　the　deep　funds　at　Bond's　disposal。
　The　other　players　sensed　a　tension　between　the　two　gamblers　and　there　was　silence　as　Le　Chiffre　fingered　the　four　cards　out　of　the　shoe。
　The　croupier　slipped　Bond's　two　cards　across　to　him　with　the　tip　of　his　spatula。　Bond；　still　with　his　eyes　holding　Le　Chiffre's；　reached　his　right　hand　out　a　few　inches；　glanced　down　very　swiftly；　then　as　he　looked　up　again　impassively　at　Le　Chiffre；　with　a　disdainful　gesture　he　tossed　the　cards　face　upwards　on　the　table。
　They　were　a　four　and　a　five　…　an　unbeatable　nine。
　There　was　a　little　gasp　of　envy　from　the　table　and　the　players　to　the　left　of　Bond　exchanged　rueful　glances　at　their　failure　to　accept　the　two　million　franc　bet。
　With　a　hint　of　a　shrug；　Le　Chiffre　slowly　faced　his　own　two　cards　and　flicked　them　away　with　his　fingernail。　They　were　two　valueless　knaves。
　'Le　baccarat；'　intoned　the　croupier　as　he　spaded　the　thick　chips　over　the　table　to　Bond。
　Bond　slipped　them　into　his　right…hand　pocket　with　the　unused　packet　of　notes。　His　face　showed　no　emotion；　but　he　was　pleased　with　the　success　of　his　first　coup　and　with　the　oute　of　the　silent　clash　of　wills　across　the　table。
　The　woman　on　his　left；　the　American　Mrs　Du　Pont；　turned　to　him　with　a　wry　smile。
　'I　shouldn't　have　let　it　e　to　you；'　she　said。　'Directly　the　cards　were　dealt　I　kicked　myself。'
　'It's　only　the　beginning　of　the　game；'　said　Bond。　'You　may　be　right　the　next　time　you　pass　it。'
　Mr　Du　Pont　leant　forward　from　the　other　side　of　his　wife：　'If　one　could　be　right　every　hand；　none　of　us　would　be　here；'　he　said　philosophically。
　'I　would　be；'　his　wife　laughed。　'You　don't　think　I　do　this　for　pleasure。'
　As　the　game　went　on；　Bond　looked　over　the　spectators　leaning　on　the　high　brass　rail　round　the　table。　He　soon　saw　Le　Chiffre's　two　gunmen。　They　stood　behind　and　to　either　side　of　the　banker。　They　looked　respectable　enough；　but　not　sufficiently　a　par