It was bedtime.Her mind as distracted as if it would throb itself out of her head,she went off to her chamber,full of mortification at being beaten time after time when she herself was the aggressor.Having for two or three years enjoyed the reputation throughout the globe of her fathers brain--which almost constituted her entire world--of being an excellent player,this fiasco was intolerable;for unfortunately the person most dogged in the belief in a false reputation is always that one,the possessor,who has the best means of knowing that it is not true.
In bed no sleep came to soothe her;that gentle thing being the very middle-of-summer friend in this respect of flying away at the merest troublous cloud.After lying awake till two oclock an idea seemed to strike her.She softly arose,got a light,and fetched a Chess Praxis from the library.Returning and sitting up in bed,she diligently studied the volume till the clock struck five,and her eyelids felt thick and heavy.She then extinguished the light and lay down again.
You look pale,Elfride,said Mrs.Swancourt the next morning at breakfast.Isnt she,cousin Harry?
A young girl who is scarcely ill at all can hardly help becoming so when regarded as such by all eyes turning upon her at the table in obedience to some remark.Everybody looked at Elfride.She certainly was pale.
Am I pale?she said with a faint smile.I did not sleep much.
I could not get rid of armies of bishops and knights,try how I
would.
Chess is a bad thing just before bedtime;especially for excitable people like yourself,dear.Dont ever play late again.
I'll play early instead.Cousin Knight,she said in imitation of Mrs.Swancourt,will you oblige me in something?
Even to half my kingdom.
Well,it is to play one game more.
When?
Now,instantly;the moment we have breakfasted.
Nonsense,Elfride,said her father.Making yourself a slave to the game like that.
But I want to,papa!Honestly,I am restless at having been so ignominiously overcome.And Mr.Knight doesnt mind.So what harm can there be?
Let us play,by all means,if you wish it,said Knight.
So,when breakfast was over,the combatants withdrew to the quiet of the library,and the door was closed.Elfride seemed to have an idea that her conduct was rather ill-regulated and startlingly free from conventional restraint.And worse,she fancied upon Knights face a slightly amused look at her proceedings.
You think me foolish,I suppose,she said recklessly;but I want to do my very best just once,and see whether I can overcome you.
Certainly:nothing more natural.Though I am afraid it is not the plan adopted by women of the world after a defeat.
Why,pray?
Because they know that as good as overcoming is skill in effacing recollection of being overcome,and turn their attention to that entirely.
I am wrong again,of course.
Perhaps your wrong is more pleasing than their right.
I dont quite know whether you mean that,or whether you are laughing at me,she said,looking doubtingly at him,yet inclining to accept the more flattering interpretation.I am almost sure you think it vanity in me to think I am a match for you.Well,if you do,I say that vanity is no crime in such a case.
Well,perhaps not.Though it is hardly a virtue.
Oh yes,in battle!Nelsons bravery lay in his vanity.
Indeed!Then so did his death.
Oh no,no!For it is written in the book of the prophet Shakespeare--
Fear and be slain?no worse can come to fight;
And fight and die,is death destroying death！
And down they sat,and the contest began,Elfride having the first move.The game progressed.Elfrides heart beat so violently that she could not sit still.Her dread was lest he should hear it.And he did discover it at last--some flowers upon the table being set throbbing by its pulsations.
I think we had better give over,said Knight,looking at her gently.It is too much for you,I know.Let us write down the position,and finish another time.
No,please not,she implored.I should not rest if I did not know the result at once.It is your move.
Ten minutes passed.
She started up suddenly.I know what you are doing?she cried,an angry colour upon her cheeks,and her eyes indignant.You were thinking of letting me win to please me!
I dont mind owning that I was,Knight responded phlegmatically,and appearing all the more so by contrast with her own turmoil.
But you must not!I wont have it.
Very well.
No,that will not do;I insist that you promise not to do any such absurd thing.It is insulting me!
Very well,madam.I wont do any such absurd thing.You shall not win.
That is to be proved!she returned proudly;and the play went on.
Nothing is now heard but the ticking of a quaint old timepiece on the summit of a bookcase.Ten minutes pass;he captures her knight;she takes his knight,and looks a very Rhadamanthus.
More minutes tick away;she takes his pawn and has the advantage,showing her sense of it rather prominently.
Five minutes more:he takes her bishop:she brings things even by taking his knight.
Three minutes:she looks bold,and takes his queen:he looks placid,and takes hers.
Eight or ten minutes pass:he takes a pawn;she utters a little pooh!but not the ghost of a pawn can she take in retaliation.
Ten minutes pass:he takes another pawn and says,Check!She flushes,extricates herself by capturing his bishop,and looks triumphant.He immediately takes her bishop:she looks surprised.
Five minutes longer:she makes a dash and takes his only remaining bishop;he replies by taking her only remaining knight.
Two minutes:he gives check;her mind is now in a painful state of tension,and she shades her face with her hand.
Yet a few minutes more:he takes her rook and checks again.She literally trembles now lest an artful surprise she has in store for him shall be anticipated by the artful surprise he evidently has in store for her.
Five minutes:Checkmate in two moves!exclaims Elfride.
If you can,says Knight.
Oh,I have miscalculated;that is cruel!
Checkmate,says Knight;and the victory is won.
