fl 
 
 HeiNG 
 
 Rubber, 
 
 J/jwley Smart 
 
BERKELEY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 5ITY OF 
 
 CALIFORNIA 
 

 
A RACING RUBBER 
 
 H Wovel 
 
 HAWLEY SMAET, 
 
 AUTHOR OP 
 
 "BREEZIE LANGTON," "BOUND TO WIN," 
 
 THE OUTSIDER," "BEATRICE AND BENEDICK, 
 
 &c, &c. 
 
 IN ONE VOLUME. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 F. V. WHITE & CO., 
 
 14, BEDFORD STREET, STRAND, W.C. 
 
 1895. 
 
TKINTED BY 
 
 KELLY AND CO. LIMITED, 182, 183, AND 184 HIGH HOLBORN, W,C. 
 
 AND KINGSTON-ON-THAMES. 
 
- 
 
 £ 
 
 PEEFACE. 
 
 11 'Ti3 done; and old Time is the winner, 
 I held him a race to the last, 
 But the sands must run fainter and thinner, 
 And the notches all count to the past." 
 
 — Whyte Melville. 
 
 In these latter days, when the extreme sensitive- 
 ness of the Nonconformist Conscience would seem 
 to imply that horse-racing is in itself a crime, it 
 appears that some explanation is needed in offering 
 to the public a story, which, as the title implies, does 
 on the face of it deal almost exclusively with that 
 ancient and classic sport so dear — from all time — 
 to the Northern race. 
 
 In consequence of this feeling, I have been 
 advised to change the name of my husband's last 
 story — last in the sense, that it was upon its con- 
 cluding pages that he was actually engaged at the 
 time of his sudden and unlooked-for death. 
 
 But this I have declined to do ; because, first, 
 for no possible advantage to myself would I pre- 
 sume to change, or in any way touch, the work of 
 one, whose absolute knowledge of his subjects — a 
 
 904 
 
vi PEEFACE. 
 
 knowledge not gained by hearsay, but acquired by 
 practical experience of both soldiering and racing — 
 when the latter certainly, stood higher in general 
 estimation than at present, had made him a 
 favourite with the reading public for nearly forty 
 years. 
 
 And also because a report having arisen— 
 I know not how — to the effect that I had of late 
 " assisted " in the writing of Captain Hawley Smart's 
 novels, I am advised to take this opportunity of 
 absolutely denying such to have been the case. 
 
 Excepting so far as the merely mechanical 
 work of writing from dictation, numbering and 
 arranging of chapters, proof correcting, etc., may 
 be termed " assistance," and which my experience, 
 as my husband's secretary, made it my duty, and 
 — although now a most sorrowful one — even my 
 pleasure to undertake alone, now he can no 
 longer direct me, I have in no way ventured to 
 touch this or any other of his novels. I offer this 
 story therefore as it was left me by him, and in 
 the full hope that it will meet with the apprecia- 
 tion of those, whose opinion he valued most, and 
 whose good-will and friendship, now he is no 
 more — I, as his widow, cherish more dearly, and 
 more gratefully than ever I did in my happier and 
 more prosperous days as his wife and helper. 
 
 Neither in the present instance, nor in any 
 
PKEFACE. vii 
 
 future dealing which may possibly arise with re- 
 gard to the MSS. left in my hands, should I be so 
 foolish as to interfere in any way. One might 
 have supposed that, even to those least versed 
 in the mysteries of racing, it would have been 
 tolerably apparent that for a woman, or an out- 
 sider of any kind to meddle with the technicalities 
 of the turf, still more to attempt to write a novel 
 on the same, must be to come to immediate and 
 ignominious grief. And this is my best refutation 
 of so foolish a statement. 
 
 It was probably more to Captain Hawley Smart's 
 accurate knowledge of the ins and outs of racing 
 and military matters — a knowledge by no means 
 invariably shared by some of those who fear- 
 lessly tackle these subjects — than to his other 
 literary merits (of which it is not for me to speak) 
 that he owed his great popularity in these — his 
 special lines. 
 
 That he wrote of what he kneiv ; had studied 
 racing from those palmy days of '49 and '50, 
 when Sir Joseph Hawley's two-year-olds almost 
 swept the board ; had learnt at least practical 
 soldiering in the trenches before Sebastopol ; 
 and again in India in '57 and '58, gave an 
 actuality, a vraisemblance, to his writing, which 
 was from the first duly recognized by the public 
 (and who so good a judge?), for as everyone knows. 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 nothing in great or small matters is so convincing 
 as sincerity and truth. 
 
 For racing itself, and its moral effects as a 
 national amusement, there is indeed much to be 
 said both ways ; happily there are yet many to 
 defend it. And while it enjoys as it does the 
 patronage of, amongst others, the Prince of Wales 
 and the Prime Minister, one can but hope that it 
 will survive the storm of abuse that has been showered 
 upon it of late. It is certainly unfortunate that 
 betting should be inseparable from it. Yet even Mr. 
 Hawke and the Dissenters will perhaps allow that 
 there are two ways of treating most subjects, and 
 that until human nature be other than it now is, 
 there are few professions — even religion and politics 
 — not capable of degradation by ignoble use, and 
 false pretences. 
 
 So much the more honour then to one, who, 
 loving the sport himself, conscientiously gave his 
 best work to its delineation in his books. And who 
 to the last — for he died in harness, and whilst 
 admittedly at his best — dealt always with his 
 subject, not from the point of view of a gambler, 
 or bookmaker, but always from that of a sportsman 
 and a gentleman. 
 
 A. H. S. 
 
 Jersey, Sept. 19^, '94. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 I. — Promising Young Ones 
 
 II. — The Big Frost 
 
 III.— Skating for Life 
 
 IV. — " Ertjpit Evasit," as Tully Would 
 Phrase It 
 
 V. — A Dual Mystery 
 
 VI. — King of the Huns 
 
 VII. — The Royal Hippodrome . 
 
 VIII. — Children of the Sawdust . 
 
 IX. — Sam Wargrave . . 
 
 X. — A Fall in the Barometer , 
 
 XI. — The Derby Fever . 
 
 XII. — Kate Darley's Debut 
 
 XIII.— The Trial 
 
 XIV. — The First Game of the Rubber 
 
 XV. — Domestic Differences 
 
 XVI. BOTTLESBY GOSSIP 
 
 XVII.— A Parting Kiss 
 XVIII. — Tom Gets his Answer 
 
 PAGE 
 1 
 
 10 
 
 . 21 
 
 Would 
 
 . 32 
 
 41 
 
 . 51 
 
 60 
 
 . 70 
 
 80 
 
 . " 90 
 
 98 
 
 . L07 
 
 116 
 
 r . 127 
 
 138 
 
 . 148 
 
 156 
 
 . 164 
 
x CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 XIX.— "My Son is yet Alive" . . 174 
 
 XX. — The Wargraves' Garden-party . 184 
 
 XXI. — The Hector's Discovery . . 194 
 
 XXII. — Game the Second .... 202 
 
 XXIII.— Praze Explains His Tactics . 212 
 
 XXIV.— "A Parthian Flight " . . .221 
 
 XXV.— The Spring Handicaps ... 232 
 
 XXVI.— Tracked Down 242 
 
 XXVII. — Reginald Tae:es Long Odds . . 252 
 
 XXVIII. — Kate Goes Down to Bottlesby . 262 
 
 XXIX. — Clara's Letter .... 271 
 
 XXX. — Game and Rubber .... 281 
 
 XXXI.— Forgiven 291 
 
 Conclusion 299 
 
A RACING RUBBER. 
 
A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PROMISING YOUNG ONES. 
 
 " It's a pretty ride, no doubt, and as far as getting 
 an appetite for dinner goes, all very well, but 
 whether this paragon of yours is worth coming all 
 this way to see, Tom, I rather doubt." 
 
 " Now, Mr. Praze," returned his companion, who 
 looked like what he was, a well-to-do young farmer, 
 " you know very well I don't talk at random, and I 
 tell you again, this foal is worth your looking at. 
 The old man don't know what he is, or he'd never 
 neglect the poor little beggar in the way he does. 
 He took him, and the half-bred one that's running 
 with him, in payment of a bad debt." 
 
 " It don't much matter how old What's-his-name — 
 Darley, isn't it ? — got him. The question is, whether 
 I think him a good-looking foal when I see him. 
 He don't go in for horse-breeding, this Mr. Darley ? " 
 
 " Not a bit of it," replied Tom Bramber, " he's 
 about as hard and close-fisted an old curmudgeon 
 as there is in the county. He farms about a couple 
 of hundred acres, and as for horses, he has only 
 those necessary to work his land, and none to spare 
 
 1 
 
2 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 either. Not a cheerful house, Mr. Praze, nor yet 
 a very cheerful old fellow in it. I should think 
 those children of his have a rough time of it now 
 and again, for they're a precious pair of pickles, and 
 I shouldn't think old Parley was the man to stand 
 larks." 
 
 They had left the breezy Hampshire Downs be- 
 hind them by this, and were wending their way 
 through a more enclosed country. What Mr. 
 James Praze might be exactly, was hard to deter- 
 mine, but there was one thing about which there 
 could be no manner of doubt, that, let his vocation 
 be what it might, it was in some way connected 
 with horses. The neat boot, the cut of the trouser, 
 the single-breasted coat of Oxford grey, and the 
 man's easy seat in the saddle, all shewed it, though 
 in what particular capacity he dealt with them, 
 one might not be able to say. 
 
 "We've not much further to go now," said 
 Bramber, " and remember we shall have come two- 
 thirds of [the distance. My place lies off to the 
 right here, and we've no call to retrace our steps." 
 
 Suddenly screams from the adjoiniDg field fell upon 
 their ears ; not of terror, but of mingled applause 
 and laughter, and a tremendous yell close at hand 
 caused them to check their horses sharply. It was 
 well that they were going at a foot's pace, for in 
 another instant, a ragged boy sitting bare-backed 
 on a clever-looking pony, came flying over the fence 
 on their right hand, the pair landing in a somewhat 
 confused heap, on the bank of the opposite hedge. 
 
PBOMISING- YOUNG ONES. 3 
 
 Had they been only going a little quicker, the 
 chances are the young urchin would have landed on 
 the top of them. For a moment the two men were 
 too much astonished and too concerned at what 
 looked like a severe " crumpler," to speak, but no 
 sooner did the boy and his fellow-culprit pick them- 
 selves up, and it had become evident that they 
 were none the worse for their exploit, than Mr. 
 Praze demanded angrily what the devil the young 
 gentleman meant by endangering people's lives in 
 that fashion ? Didn't he know that nobody but a 
 thorough tailor would have jumped into a lane like 
 that, unless hounds were running? What the etc., 
 etc., did he mean by it ? 
 
 " Please, sir, I couldn't help it, and I ain't a 
 tailor," replied the boy indignantly. "I couldn't 
 hold him with this old snaffle, and he got clean 
 away with me. When I found I couldn't stop him, 
 there was nothing but to send him at it, best pace, 
 and chance what came of it." 
 
 " It's young Jim Darley," said Bramber, in a low 
 tone ; " and I'm blest if he hasn't got Silcox's pet 
 pony. Hulloa, Master Jim," he continued, address- 
 ing the lad, " I'd no idea you and Mr. Silcox were 
 such friends. It isn't everybody he'd lend that 
 pony to. How are his knees after that tumble ? " 
 
 The boy's face fell, and a look of intense relief 
 came over his face as, after a rapid survey of his 
 steed's legs, he ascertained that the skin was 
 unbroken. 
 
 " Please, sir," he rejoined, " his knees are all 
 
 1* 
 
4 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 right, and— and Mr. Silcox didn't exactly lend me 
 the pony " 
 
 " And if he didn't, I should like to know what 
 you're doing with him ? " said Bramber. 
 
 " Well, sir," replied the boy, " it was in this way. 
 Mr. Silcox's ten-acre runs up to our forty-acre, and 
 the fence isn't in very good repair. It's father's, 
 you see, and he won't have it done up, and the 
 pony got straying down there." And then, seeing 
 the broad grin on Bramber's face, regaining his 
 habitual confidence, which the fall and the sub- 
 sequent detection of his crime had temporarily 
 shaken, he added : " And I thought he wanted a 
 gallop." 
 
 ''• You young scamp," rejoined Bramber laughing, 
 " You've stolen Mr. Silcox's pony, and precious near 
 broke its neck. What do you expect will happen 
 to you if he finds it out ? " 
 
 " I shall get a jolly good hiding from either him 
 or father," said the boy, without hesitation. " And 
 I only hope it will be from him." 
 
 At this juncture, Mr. Praze became conscious 
 that there was another spectator of the scene. 
 Gazing over the hedge and evidently much 
 interested in her brother's fate, was a very pretty 
 girl about sixteen years of age. She was apparently 
 quite satisfied with the turn the affair had taken, 
 for, upon seeing she was discovered, she called out : 
 
 " Are you all right, Jim ? " To which the culprit 
 nodded in the affirmative. 
 
 " Well, young 'un," said Tom Bramber, "it's not 
 
PROMISING- YOUNG ONES. 5 
 
 my business, and I'm not going to say anything to 
 either Mr. Silcox or your father, but you take my 
 advice and just you put that pony back where you 
 took hirn from as quick as you can." 
 
 " And remember," said Mr. Praze, " next time 
 you jump into a lane, to think of other people's 
 necks, whatever you do about your own. And 
 here," he added, taking a note-book from his breast 
 pocket and rapidly scribbling in it, " a young scamp 
 like you is certain to make your home too hot to 
 hold you before long. When you do you can write 
 to me. There's the address," and throwing the leaf 
 to Jim Darley, Mr. Praze gave him a friendly nod 
 and trotted on. 
 
 " That was the girl," said Bramber ; " and she's 
 just about as wild as she is pretty. Both of them, 
 I should think, as likely to go to the bad as any 
 two children in England. It's a thousand pities. 
 There's good stuff in them, and they are quick- 
 witted besides, but with that stern, miserly old 
 father of theirs they'll never have a chance." 
 
 It was too true. " Those Darleys " had already 
 attained an evil reputation in the neighbourhood. 
 As may be gathered from Bramber's remarks, old 
 Darley himself wasn't likely to be a popular man in 
 any parish in which he might reside. There was 
 nothing to be alleged actually against him ; if he 
 was hard ani parsimonious, he was also just, and 
 paid his w?y honestly enough. A keen hand at a 
 bargain, no doubt, but then that was all in the way 
 of business, and it was not that was the cause of 
 
6 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 Lis unpopularity. A surly man, well-known to be a 
 thorough despot in his own family, and showing no 
 disposition whatever to ask the stranger within his 
 gates j a man not to be melted by any tale of 
 distress, who held emphatically that charity began 
 at home, and that when people fell upon evil days, 
 they had only their own want of thrift and 
 indolence to thank for it. As for Mrs. Darley, 
 she was a worn, faded-looking woman, suffering 
 severely from suppressed loquacity. She had been 
 intended for a cheery gossiping little soul, but was 
 now thoroughly cowed by her husband's morose 
 temper. It is difficult no doubt to curb a woman's 
 tongue, but garrulity must be to some extent 
 quenched, when responded to by a stern command 
 to " hold your prate," or si give over cackling." 
 Mr. Darley was emphatically master in his own 
 house, and his wife would sooner have bitten her 
 tongue out, than roused the simoom of his wrath. 
 As for the children, though small for their age, 
 they were both good-looking. They were fond of 
 their mother, but feared, and at times may be said 
 to have even hated, their father. Quick, clever arid 
 hot-tempered, they might have been done anything 
 with by kind treatment, but once put their blood 
 up, and they had wills of their own, and vehe- 
 mently refused to do anything they disliked. With 
 their teachers, strange to say, they were rather 
 favourites, they learnt easily and well, and had a 
 natural passion for reading. Kate, too, was gifted 
 with a vivid imagination, and built up airy castles, 
 
PROMISING YOUNG ONES. 7 
 
 in which she invariably figured as a great lady, 
 while the more prosaic Jim, though occasionally 
 persuaded to regard himself as a " lord of high 
 degree," more often persisted in assuming the 
 humbler role of huntsman, more especially if he 
 could lay hands on any four-footed animal on which 
 to perform the part, and they said in the parish 
 that there was nothing Jim Darley wouldn't try 
 to ride, and the more wicked they were the better he 
 liked them. Cows the imp had been heard to 
 speak disparagingly of; but there was a donkey 
 that had dismissed him as well as most of his com- 
 panions, for which he had a great respect. Kate 
 and her brother indeed were in the front of most 
 of the mischief in the village. Their associates 
 admired them for their audacity, and though their 
 hot tempers led them into continual quarrels, yet 
 upon the whole they were popular with their school- 
 fellows. 
 
 By the time Mr. Praze had extracted this much 
 information from Bramber, they had arrived at 
 their destination, and opening the gate of a small 
 paddock, Tom led the way inside, and walked his 
 horse leisurely across to where a rough and ragged 
 foal was struggling hard to pick up a scanty living. 
 
 "That's him," said Tom; "old Darley don't 
 waste much corn upon him, you may take your 
 oath. That half-bred colt there," and Tom pointed 
 with his hunting crop to the other end of the field, 
 " is master of him." 
 
 "Is he?" said Mr. Praze, throwing his eyes 
 
g A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 once more critically over the object of Tom's re- 
 commendation. 
 
 " Yes, and bullies him proper," rejoined Bramber 
 laughing. " You see the grass is a good bit better 
 at that end of the paddock than it is here, and that 
 half-bred beggar won't let him come down there, 
 and you may depend upon it what little corn old 
 Barley may give 'em, he takes good care this one 
 shan't put his nose into it." 
 
 " He's not a bad shaped one ; but it's rather 
 buying a pig in a poke you know. I suppose you're 
 quite sure about his pedigree ? " 
 
 " Quite, he's by Barbarossa out of a Sultan 
 mare." 
 
 " And what do you suppose the old man will be 
 asking for him ? " 
 
 " He took the couple," rejoined Tom, " in 
 quittance of a debt for a hundred pounds from 
 a young fellow who was broke, and it is possible 
 that he would sooner have that hundred than the 
 colts, but anyhow a little advance upon that, I have 
 no doubt he would jump at." 
 
 " Well, it's not a very ruinous price," returned 
 Mr. Praze; "but it's chancy work buying foals." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Praze, he'll mend of that mighty soon, 
 he'll be a yearling remember in about two months' 
 time. And I'm sure buying them is quite as big 
 a lottery. Just think of all those you saw sold at 
 Newmarket last week. Look at the prices they 
 fetched, and you know as well I do how precious few 
 of them will turn out worth the money that's been 
 
PROMISING- YOUNG ONES. 9 
 
 given for them. It's not the young ones that fetch 
 the most money that distinguish themselves on the 
 race-course. I've a great fancy for the blood myself, 
 and if you buy him, you will never repent it. Why 
 before you've had him three months you won't know 
 him." 
 
 " I say, Tom," replied his companion laughing, 
 " what commission's old Darley going to give you for 
 bonnetting up his foal in this way ? " 
 
 Bramber joined in the laugh. " Ah, never 
 mind," he said, " you mean taking him I see, and in 
 that case you had better leave it to me. If a 
 stranger goes to him about that foal, Darley will 
 jump to the conclusion at once that he's worth money 
 and double bis price. I can get him cheaper for you 
 than you can for yourself." 
 
 « All right, Tom, I'll take him, and I'll leave the 
 business in your hands. And now we had better push 
 on to your place. I must be back in Town to- 
 night, I want to catch the seven-o'clock train." 
 
 " Lots of time," replied Bramber as he led the way 
 back into the lane. " And don't forget me in the 
 buy, remember." 
 
 Mr. Praze looked at him enquiringly. 
 
 " I want to go halves in the colt with you " con- 
 tinued Tom, " I'm game to pay half his expenses, 
 and take my share of what he picks up." 
 
 " All right," replied the trainer, " you shall, on the 
 one condition that I have the sole management of 
 him." 
 
10 A RACING RUBBEfC. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE BIG FROST. 
 
 It was a frost, a terribly hard frost, not one of those 
 black, sunless abominations which wrap the whole 
 country in gloom, and scatter influenza, bronchitis 
 and all the ills that flesh is heir to, in their train, 
 but a bright, hard, old-fashioned frost, which made 
 pulses tingle even if it nipped noses, and produced 
 undue exhilaration of spirit amongst all young 
 people. Down in the Fen country skates were 
 ringing, and the notabilities of those parts were 
 striving their best to break the record and skate the 
 mile in some seconds less than it had ever been 
 done heretofore. Flooded fields were rife in that 
 country, the farmers hadn't seen their land for 
 weeks, and as one of these cheerful agriculturists 
 said it was a comfort to see the spring wheat doing 
 so nicely under the ice. The London Parks were 
 thronged, and the Regent's Park particularly 
 attracted crowds, not only to witness the graceful 
 gyrations of the Skating Club and their imitators, 
 but also for the purpose of joining themselves in the 
 fan. Down in the Shires hunters were eating their 
 heads off, while their masters had flocked after 
 their wont to London, when such a contretemps 
 begets them. And in those small country towns 
 where, as Whyte Melville sings — 
 
 " The business of life is to hunt every day," 
 
THE BIG FROST. 11 
 
 it is astonishing what boredom descends upon men 
 when the weather puts a stop to their favourite 
 diversion. One can kill a good deal of time at the 
 whist table, but whist from noon to midnight is apt 
 to pall after two or three days. Small wonder that 
 the continued frost sends their visitors trooping back 
 to the metropolis. Down at Newmarket all training 
 operations are comparatively at a standstill, and 
 horses are restricted to walking exercise on the straw 
 beds, and cognoscenti remarks that the Lincolnshire 
 Handicap will result, as it not unfrequently does, in 
 the survival of the fittest, meaning thereby that the 
 horse brought to the post in the best condition will 
 probably win, although he may have his superiors 
 behind him. 
 
 Lounging outside the gate of a large stable yard, 
 surrounded by loose boxes, is Mr. James Praze, in 
 earnest confabulation with Tom Bramber. 
 
 " I don't say it wasn't a good buy," said the 
 former quietly. " He's growing into a very nice 
 horse, and there ought to be a good race in him when 
 his time comes." 
 
 "He's a real beauty," cried Bramber enthusi- 
 astically. "When his time comes," he continued 
 impatiently, " Of course you know best, but how 
 you could pass by all those great two-year-old stakes 
 beats me. Why there's some thousands he might 
 have won if you'd only let him try." 
 
 Mr. Praze looked at his companion with a pitying 
 eye. 
 
 "Tom," he said, "if ever you take to training, 
 
12 A EACIiNG RUBBER 
 
 bear in mind the secret of success lies, as in many 
 other things, in patience. To hurry a great big 
 topped colt like that would be probably to break him 
 down, and the chances are he'd never be worth a 
 roll of ginger-bread." 
 
 " But his legs are clean enough," replied Bramber. 
 
 "Yes," rejoined the trainer, "but look how 
 tender I've been with him. Patience, I tell you, and 
 he'll do us a good turn yet. As far as I've ventured 
 to try him I've found him all we could hope for." 
 
 " It's more than two years ago since I bought him 
 for you." 
 
 " Yes," rejoined Praze, " and who could have 
 supposed that he would turn into the great slashing 
 horse he has ? Never fear, Tom, he'll have lots of 
 chances this year. He's entered for plenty of good 
 stakes. If he turn out only as good as I fancy 
 him " 
 
 Here the boxes in the stable-yard opened, and 
 some six or eight boys, who had been busy dressing 
 down their horses, trooped through the gate-way of 
 the yard on their way to breakfast. 
 
 " Here you, Darley," suddenly exclaimed Mr. Praze, 
 f( come here. Don't let me catch you fiddling with 
 your ash plant again as you were this morning. I 
 don't give a chance to a boy of mine to wear silk till 
 he's learnt to keep his whip still. It'll be quite time 
 for you to try that two or three years hence, when 
 you've learnt how to use it." 
 
 " I was obliged to hit my horse this morning, sir, 
 he showed temper." 
 
THE BIG FEOST. 13 
 
 " No he didn't," rejoined the trainer, " but you did. 
 Can't you understand that he's a young skittish 
 scary thing? Something startled him this morning 
 and instead of coaxing him, and speaking gently to 
 him, and so giving him confidence, you lost your 
 temper and hit him. There, that's enough, don't 
 forget." 
 
 " How does your sister get on, Jim ? " said 
 Bramber as he nodded good-humouredly to the 
 boy. 
 
 " She was all right when I heard from her last," 
 replied young Darley, " but I expect she doesn't 
 care about it much. She's rather sharply bitted to 
 what she has been used to." 
 
 " Well, the pair of you couldn't expect to run wild 
 for ever," replied Tom, as the boy turned to follow 
 his companions. if How's he doing ? " he continued, 
 turning to Praze. 
 
 " Well enough," rejoined the trainer ; " he's a born 
 horseman and if he can only master his temper will 
 ride some day, but he's an awful hot-tempered little 
 beggar. You see the discipline of my establishment 
 is as strict I take it as any school, and he was a little 
 inclined to kick against it at first, but he very soon 
 found I stood no nonsense. He's awfully ond of his 
 horse, and has any amount of pluck, but his temper 
 sometimes gets the best of him, and he's not to be 
 trusted yet without a sharp eye on him. Ah, I was 
 right about one thing though, this is just the best 
 school he could have come to. His real love of 
 horses and ridiug will go a long way to keep him 
 
14 A EACING EUBBEE. 
 
 straight." And then the trainer and his guest went 
 in to breakfast, and had what Mr. Brarnber con- 
 sidered a rather unsatisfactory talk about their joint 
 purchase, insomuch as the impatient Tom could not 
 induce Mr. Praze to say positively for which of the 
 great races of the year he contemplated running the 
 colt. 
 
 That jump into the lane of two years ago had been 
 fraught with considerable importance to the young 
 Darleys. I may say the young Darleys, because 
 though at first sight it would seem merely to have 
 influenced the fortunes of the boy, yet it also in- 
 directly influenced his sister's career. Tom Brarnber 
 had kept honourable silence with regard to the 
 felonious appropriation of Silcox's pony, but, to such 
 a pickle as Jim Darley, that was but a short reprieve. 
 Some similar escapade speedily brought down upon 
 him his father's wrath, and the old man was not one 
 to fall into the mistake of sparing the rod in such 
 cases. Jim paid the penalty of his transgression with 
 his usual stoicism, but he had resolved that he would 
 have no more of it, and a day or two afterwards he 
 disappeared from his home. It was not likely that 
 a lad of Darley 's would be in possession of much 
 money, still he borrowed a few shillings from his 
 sister, and with that and the assistance of his own 
 legs, made his way to Newmarket. There he 
 enquired for Mr. James Praze, and had no difficulty 
 in finding the trainer'? dwelling. He was not much 
 surprised at seeing the lad, but then it took a good 
 deal to surprise Mr. Praze, moreover he had prog 
 
THE BIG FROST. 15 
 
 nosticated that it wouldn't be long before he found 
 his home too hot for him, but when Jim in con- 
 clusion asked for work, he replied : 
 
 " I don't mind giving you a trial for a month if 
 you like, but it must be all shipshape. We don't 
 take runaway lads here. You must write to your 
 father and let him know where you are, and tell him 
 that if I'm satisfied with you, I'll take you as an 
 apprentice. If he consents to that, you will be 
 bound over to me for five years, and understand that 
 means you can't leave me without my consent, and 
 remember it won't be any use your running away, 
 because no racing stable will employ a runaway 
 apprentice." 
 
 Jim Darley who had been wild with the idea ever 
 since he had contemplated what Mr. James Praze 
 of Newmarket might open to him, was only too 
 delighted to do as he was bid. As for Mr. Darley 
 senior, he regarded it as an interposition of Provi- 
 dence on his behalf, that any one should be found 
 willing to take a lad with such a never-to-be- 
 satisfied appetite as Jim's off his hands, and grimly 
 rejoined that he had no doubt his son was going 
 straightway to the father of lies, and that he would 
 get there rather sooner on horseback, while Kate 
 who had abetted her brother in absconding, though 
 grieving sorely at parting with him, saw at once 
 what a chance it was for a boy with his tastes, and 
 highly approved, and so it came about that a few 
 weeks after that memorable ride on Silcox's pony, 
 Jim Darley signed his indentures as apprentice to 
 
13 A RACING- RUBBER. 
 
 Mr. James Praze, for the term of five years, two of 
 which had now elapsed. 
 
 Old Darley was the tenant of a Mr. Chace water, 
 who though not a large landed proprietor owned a 
 comfortable house on a very nice estate on the 
 Wiltshire border, a good old-fashioned country 
 squire, fond of field sports, and spending the greater 
 part of the year in the country, a man who piqued 
 himself on his pigs and had fads about his short- 
 horns, a man w r ho not only farmed well himself, but 
 took care there should be no slovenly farming 
 amongst tenants of his. Mrs. Chacewater too was a 
 kind of Lady Bountiful in the parish. She knew 
 all their own tenants, and their affairs to boot, 
 pretty nearly as well as they did themselves, a good- 
 hearted managing woman, but for all that by no 
 means fussy nor given to interference amongst their 
 people, a popular woman, albeit it was quite recog- 
 nised the Squire's lady could speak her mind, as 
 well as anybody in the parish. They had three 
 children, of whom Eeginald the eldest, after dis- 
 tinguishing himself at the University, equally on 
 the cricket field and in the class-rooms, was now 
 called to the Bar in London. The eldest girl was 
 married and in India with her husband, but she had 
 just confided her two children, whom the climate 
 had compelled her to send home, to the care of 
 their grandmother, and casting about for a nursery 
 governess for these, and one who might also be a 
 companion to her younger daughter, Mrs. Chace- 
 water suddenly pitched upon Kate Darley. The 
 
THE BIG FROST. 17 
 
 girl was too old, she argued, to be running wild as 
 she was in her own home at present. She was just 
 about the same age as Jessie, and she made up her 
 mind that it would be an excellent arrangement all 
 round, good for Kate Darley, a bright, pretty, intelli- 
 gent girl, in whom she had always taken a great 
 interest, good for her own child Jessie, and it was 
 certainly time those chicks of Anna's were at all 
 events taught to spell. At first Kate was somewhat 
 appalled at the idea and shrank from the inevitable 
 restraint it must put upon her movements, but the 
 loss of Jim had made a terrible gap in her life, and 
 what with her father's morose temper, and her 
 mother's low spirits, she was fain to confess that her 
 home was dull and dreary, so she finally consented 
 to Mrs. Chacewater's proposal, and a few months 
 after Jim's flight, she found herself installed at 
 Chacewater Grange. 
 
 There she had passed a very pleasant year, giving 
 much satisfaction to all about her, although she 
 had been occasionally in disgrace, by her inability 
 to control her passionate temper, but if the en- 
 gaging of Kate had turned out a most successful hit 
 on the part of Mrs. Chacewater, it had been a most 
 excellent thing for the girl herself. One of the 
 things Jessie Chacewater wanted was someone to 
 ride with her, and this to Kate was a supreme 
 delight, and a pleasure in which as yet she had only 
 indulged furtively. Miss Chacewater, though she 
 had had considerable practice, was but a timid 
 horsewoman, while as for Kate, she positively did 
 
 2 
 
18 A EACING KUBBER. 
 
 not know what fear was. Living at the Grange 
 too, she rapidly acquired a refinement it would have 
 been impossible for her to have attained in her own 
 home. Quick and intelligent, and just of an age to 
 speedily conform to the habits of those with whom 
 she lived, the tom-boy girl of sixteen, in her eigh- 
 teenth year was transformed into a vivacious but 
 perfectly well-mannered young lady. And it was 
 at this time came a break up of the little family 
 circle ; Mrs. Shackerston, Miss Chacewater that had 
 been, returned from India, and after paying a visit 
 to the Grange, she and her husband took a house at 
 Bath, and the children of course returned to the 
 care of their own mother. Miss Chacewater, it was 
 determined, should go to a finishing school in 
 London, and Jessie, who had become much attached 
 to her friend, pleaded so hard against their separa- 
 tion, that Mrs. Chacewater finally determined that 
 Kate should go to the same school in the capacity 
 of a pupil teacher, and at the Misses Rushey Piatt's 
 Seminary for young ladies, Kate found herself at 
 the beginning of the big frost. 
 
 It was the middle of January, and, with some two 
 or three exceptions, all the girls were away with 
 their friends and relations for the Christmas 
 Vacation. The two or three pupils left were a good 
 bit younger than Kate. Jessie Chacewater had left 
 for good, and, much to Kate's dismay, there had 
 been no invitation for her to stay at the Grange 
 this year, and Mrs. Chacewater had further inti- 
 mated that she should have no occasion for her 
 
THE BIG FROST. 19 
 
 services in the future. It was rather a dreary look- 
 out that future, for Kate ; of course that she should 
 think to pass her life at the Grange was absurd, 
 she had been engaged there mainly as a nursery 
 governess, and her pupils were now departed. 
 They had all been very kind to her, but it was one 
 of those arrangements that in the nature of things 
 was bound to come to an end. It was doubtful 
 whether she could even continue where she was, 
 whether the Misses Rushey Piatt would consider 
 her accomplishments sufficient compensation for 
 her board and the instruction which she herself 
 received under their roof. Mrs. Chacewater, she 
 knew, had paid something towards her expenses in 
 the first instance, but she could not expect that 
 would continue. There were only two things open 
 to her, she must either seek another situation or go 
 home, and she shuddered at this latter alternative, 
 unless her services were really needed in case of 
 sickness, or something of that kind. Oh, dear ! how 
 dull it was, how sick she was of looking out of the 
 window, she was bored to death, she would go out 
 for a run, no she wouldn't ask permission, of course 
 she ought, it was the rule, but she would just slip 
 out by herself, and say nothing to anyone. 
 
 Another five minutes, and Kate had let herself 
 softly out of the house and was speeding away towards 
 Regent's Park. She had made up her mind what 
 she would do with her contraband freedom. She 
 would go and look on at the skating there. She 
 
 was quite sure that would meet with much dis- 
 ss 
 
20 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 approval from Miss Kushey Piatt did she but know 
 it, and although Kate had been for a good two years 
 under discipline, she had not yet lost her zest for 
 stolen pleasures. She soon reached the borders of 
 the lake, which was covered by a crowd of revellers, 
 some disporting themselves in graceful arrowy 
 fashion, others turning and circling, and performing 
 all sorts of complicated figures, in most artistic 
 manner, while others again, after sprawling about the 
 ice in ludicrous style,eventually sat down, with neither 
 dignity nor design. What fun it was, and how fond 
 she had been of skating once, how she should like a spin 
 now ; just one good race the length of the lake and 
 back again would brighten her up wonderfully, and 
 here the tempter was by her side, with " Try a pair 
 of skates, my lady. Only just wait while I look out 
 a pair small enough." And one of those artful 
 jackals, that haunt the margin of the ice in the 
 London Parks, and equipped with a Windsor chair, a 
 gimlet, and several pairs of skates, lure their fellow 
 creatures to their undoing, placed a chair by Miss 
 Darley's side, and, proffering a pair from his stock, 
 declared they might have been just made for her. 
 Yielding to the temptation, Kate seated herself. 
 Two or three minutes, and the irons were fitted to 
 her feet, and striking boldly out, like the practised 
 skater she was, Miss Darley was lost in the throng. 
 
SKATING FOR LIFE 21 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " SKATING FOR LIFE." 
 
 Looking out of a window, in a set of rooms in the 
 Temple, at the bare trees and frost-bound earth, 
 was a good-looking young fellow, who seemed by no 
 means to share in the exhilaration caused by the 
 keen weather. Mr. Reginald Chacewater was, at the 
 present moment, revolving how one of those financial 
 crises, common enough in all young gentlemen's lives, 
 was to be met. The spending of half-a-crown out of 
 sixpence a day has always been reputed easy, at all 
 events in the Army, and to young men of good 
 connections is doubtless just as easy outside its ranks. 
 But the much needed alchemist in search of whom our 
 forefathers sank much good gold, has, sad to say, yet 
 to be discovered ; to wit, the man who can pay half-a- 
 crown out of sixpence a day. If he had not taken 
 honours, Reginald had distinguished himself at 
 Cambridge. He had passed a very good final 
 examination ; moreover, he had been in the Eleven, 
 and, in the eyes of his father, that probably was a 
 distinction of higher importance. That Reginald 
 should have exceeded his allowance, Mr. Chacewater 
 regarded as all in the natural course of events, that 
 his account for hacks and hunters was portentous, 
 the Squire would have deemed compensated for by 
 
22 A EACING RUBBER. 
 
 the knowledge that Reginald was hard to beat with 
 the " Drag " : in short, Mr. Chacewater was per- 
 fectly satisfied with his son's College career, and at 
 the end of it, paid his debts without wincing, and 
 only remarked that now he had had his fling, he 
 should expect him to make his allowance do. 
 Reginald was no gambler, nor was he by any means 
 viciously extravagant, but he had entered into all 
 the amusements of the University with all the zest 
 of his age, and without much consideration as to 
 whether the game was worth the candle. He had 
 excellent abilities, and at times read hard, and had 
 he not devoted so much time to his pleasures, would 
 have doubtless come out high on the lists at the 
 final examinations. As it was, many fathers would 
 have been quite satisfied with his record, and that ! 
 his own should be so was really all that was of much 
 consequence to Reginald. But he had made one 
 great mistake at the finish. When his father called 
 upon him for a schedule of his debts, he was 
 ashamed of the total, and suppressed the bigger half 
 of them. 
 
 London is a place in which, although no doubt 
 you may live for very little money, there {is also 
 the temptation to spend a good deal. At all events 
 a young man with a moderate allowance finds it 
 difficult to lay by sufficient to make any perceptible 
 diminution in debts amounting to some hundreds. 
 His Cambridge creditors were getting clamorous, 
 and declared that they would wait no longer, that, 
 unless they had something substantial on account, 
 
SKATING FOR LIFE. 23 
 
 they should be compelled to take legal proceedings. 
 They were no longer to be satisfied with an odd ten 
 pound note, they ravened for blood, or rather their 
 money; the larger malcontents taking counsel 
 together, came to the conclusion that they had 
 granted credit enough, and that if Mr. Keginald 
 Chacewater were only laid by the heels, or even 
 served with a writ or two, his friends and relations 
 would come to the rescue and make a clean sweep 
 of his encumbrances. 
 
 Turning from the window, Eeginald glanced at 
 his table, where reposed not only two of these last 
 disturbers of peace and serenity, but divers angry 
 blue-covered letters, all threatening legal proceed- 
 ings with more or less severity. He was not 
 one of those weak and timid dispositions that 
 think that all is lost the minute they find their 
 bark amidst the breakers. He had plenty of 
 confidence in himself. He was not making much 
 money as yet, but he saw his way. Only give him 
 time, and he was sure he would be able to pay all 
 these cormorants ere long. The said cormorants 
 had .they been consulted would have pointed out 
 that they had given him time and that nothing had 
 come of it. Eeginald knew that his father was not 
 a rich man. It was not a large estate, and land was 
 not what land used to be. Moreover, whatever 
 income the land may yield, it exacts from its 
 proprietor a good deal back. A point in which 
 railway shares and stock of all kinds have a decided 
 advantage. Then there was the house and grounds 
 
24 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 to keep up, and the Squire was not the man to put 
 down a gardener or discharge a stable-boy from 
 motives of economy. In short, Eeginald knew his 
 father had many calls upon his purse, and was 
 resolute, as far as he was concerned, to dip into it 
 no further. But then what was he to do ? Legally, 
 of course, the Squire was not liable for sixpence, 
 but what was he, Reginald, to do ? He knew his 
 father would never allow him to remain in Holloway 
 Prison, and indeed would be dreadfully annoyed that 
 a son of his should suffer the indignity of arrest. 
 
 " No," he muttered, " the poor old Dad behaved 
 like a brick when I left Cambridge, and I was a 
 cowardly fool not to make a clean breast of it. I'm 
 getting my oar in fast too, my small stories are 
 readily accepted, and I've got it in me to write a 
 big one too, or a play, who knows ? And what 
 money there is in a successful play nobody can 
 guess. Enough to pay all these sharks off, over 
 and over again. I'll not stick the dear old Dad 
 again that's certain, and yet I see no immediate 
 way out of the scrape. To disappear is all very 
 well, but it's only putting off the evil day. I'm sure 
 to be hunted down sooner or later, unless I go 
 abroad, and, I can't help thinking that if I'm to do 
 anything in literature, I ought not to leave London 
 just at present. Well, it's no use staying here, 
 brooding over them won't pay the confounded 
 things, and my brains are all too muddled for work. 
 I'll just go for a real good stretch, and I may as 
 well take my skates, I haven't had a look at the 
 
SKATING FOE LIFE. 25 
 
 ice, yet, nor had a turn in the ' pattens,' since I left 
 College." 
 
 As he passed the porter's lodge he said " good-day " 
 to that janitor, and enquired how he liked the cold 
 weather. 
 
 " It suits young men better than us old ones," 
 replied the man, smiling. " You are going to have 
 a turn with the skates I see, sir. I used to be rare 
 fond of it in my younger days." 
 
 " Younger days, Cross ? " replied Reginald laugh- 
 ing. " Why you've not quite finished them yet. 
 It is nothing but your confounded laziness keeps 
 you off the ice now." 
 
 " Eh, sir," grinned the old man, " you'll learn all 
 about the rheumatics in course of time, and if I'm 
 alive I'd like to take your opinion about it then." 
 But young Chacewater had not waited for a reply 
 to his last remark, and was by this time out of 
 hearing. 
 
 The keen bracing air and the exercise soon revived 
 Keginald's spirit. Given health and strength, our 
 scrapes and consequent fits of depression do not 
 weigh heavily on us at five-and-twenty. Although 
 not a bit nearer a solution of his difficulties than he 
 had been when he left his rooms, as he reached the 
 Regent's Park, he had walked himself into the 
 belief that there must be a way out of his troubles, 
 and that he should hit upon it before long, and by 
 the time he bad reached the edge of the lake, he 
 had cast his cares on one side, at all events for the 
 present. He stood for a moment gazing at the gay 
 
26 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 throng, listening to the ring of the irons and shouts 
 of laughter that resounded through the clear frosty 
 air, then seating himself on a chair called to its 
 ragged proprietor to put on his skates for him. 
 While this was being done, the conversation of two 
 men fell upon his ear and arrested his attention. 
 The one who was dressed as a Park-keeper remarked 
 to his companion in earnest tones : 
 
 " It will be a good job, Tom, when we've got 'em 
 all off. There's a sudden change in the state of the 
 ice, and a rise in the barometer, that's startled the 
 Humane Society people. It's too late to stop 'em, 
 now, but they wish they had warned people the ice 
 was no longer safe a couple of hours ago. But you 
 see they hadn't a suspicion of it themselves." 
 
 " No," replied the other, " nor should I think 
 there's any danger still, I have no doubt, from 
 what I've seen, the frost is about to break up, but 
 such ice as this will be safe enough for a day or two 
 
 yet." 
 
 Reginald Chacewater thoroughly coincided with 
 the last speaker's opinion. There were always 
 alarmists who questioned the safety of the ice 
 whenever people began to disport themselves on it, 
 prophets of evil these, who neither skated nor curled, 
 and who saw danger in all athletic pursuits. Ice of 
 such thickness as a fortnight's sharp frost must have 
 made this, was not likely to give way in a few 
 hours. The Humane Society always cried out before 
 there was any necessity. It was their object to 
 prevent people getting drowned, and there was no 
 
SKATING FOR LIFE. 27 
 
 insurance equal to confining them to dry land, and 
 with those reflections, he struck boldly out, and in 
 a few minutes had gained the middle of the throng. 
 For a good hour he had been amusing himself, and 
 had already forgotten all about that ominous pile of 
 letters that he had left upon his writing table. Few 
 exercises are more exhilarating to the initiated than 
 skating. To those graduating, it is no doubt accom- 
 panied by tremors and exasperation, and the most 
 conceited person breathing must be conscious of not 
 appearing to advantage, when taking his first lesson 
 in skating ; but to the passed master it is the poetry 
 of motion, nothing comes near it, save sleighing with 
 a free horse during the beginning of the winter in 
 the snow countries, ere the traffic has knocked holes 
 in the Heaven-made road. The fun was at its 
 height, when suddenly a report like a cannon rang 
 through the still air, immediately followed by 
 screams of terror, and cries of " To the banks for 
 your lives, the ice is breaking up." Eeginald 
 paused for a moment, to look back at the panic- 
 stricken and shrieking crowd. Already they were 
 falling and tumbling over each other, in the mad 
 stampede for the land. He saw at a glance that, 
 once entangled in that throng, there would be 
 nothing for it but to face the danger, and trust that 
 the ice might last some little time yet. The 
 foremost of the throng were already nearing him, 
 and he was about to take advantage of the start 
 which his position outside it gave him, and make 
 for the bank with all speed, when he saw a girl 
 
28 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 knocked down by a terror-stricken rough who had 
 cannoned against her. Quick as thought Eeginald 
 dashed over the space that intervened between him 
 and the prostrate young lady. It was well he did 
 so, for entangled in the rush, the girl would have 
 found some difficulty in recovering her feet without 
 his assistance. The sharp cracking of the ice, 
 sounding like pistol shots in every direction, gave 
 warning that one of the most sudden breaks-up of 
 a hard frost ever known had come upon them. 
 
 Seizing the girl's hand, he exclaimed, " Strike 
 out the best you can, the sooner we are on land the 
 better. Check me if I am going too fast for you." 
 
 " Thank you, I will do my best," was the brief 
 reply, and before they had gone a hundred yards, 
 Reginald found that his task was comparatively an 
 easy one, and that his companion was a practised 
 skater. That the ice had given way in many places 
 behind them they knew, but if it would only hold 
 good for two or three minutes in front of them, 
 they would be out of danger. The brief delay had, 
 it is true, involved them to some extent in the 
 crowd, but still, thanks to his timely assistance, his 
 companion had regained her feet so quickly that 
 they were in the front rank, and not in the thick 
 of it, and ran little risk now save being knocked 
 over by some of the panic-stricken roughs who in 
 such cases have no thought of anyone but them- 
 selves. A little more and they had gained the 
 bank, and Miss Darley, as she gasped her incoherent 
 thanks, was fain to lean against a tree to recover 
 
SKATING FOR LIFE. 29 
 
 from her excitement and exertions. She had been 
 skating not only at the top of her speed, but for 
 her life, a struggle for which is apt to be followed 
 by reaction, however cool one may be at the time. 
 That Eeginald had come to her aid at a very critical 
 moment, Kate Darley thoroughly recognised. How 
 helpless a woman is in a crowd she was quite aware 
 and that once off her feet in one dominated by 
 panic, a girl runs grave risk of being trampled to 
 death, is palpable to everyone, to say nothing in 
 this case of the risk of drowning to boot. That the 
 accident was on a large scale and attended with con- 
 siderable loss of life was clear, and Kate felt that 
 she would have been hardly standing in safety on 
 the bank, had it not been for Eeginald Chacewater's 
 assistance. Yes, she recognised him in a moment, 
 but saw at once that he had no knowledge of her- 
 self, it was not likely. Kate and her brother had 
 been mere children when Eeginald went to college, 
 and since leaving that he had been but little at the 
 Grange. During her sojourn there, he had only 
 visited it once, for a few days, and then probably 
 had taken but little notice of the children's gover- 
 ness. Certain it is that he had no recollection 01 
 her at present, and merely mentally ejaculated, 
 "Deuced good-looking young woman I've helped 
 out of that scrape." Miss Darley resolved to retain 
 her incognita. If she recognised him, she would 
 have to tell him who she was. The adventure 
 before long was sure to be talked over at the 
 Grange, and then Kate foresaw the probability of 
 
30 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 awkward questions being asked, about her fortunate 
 escape, how came she on the ice, who was she with, 
 (Sec. Ah, who indeed ? Then the story was safe to 
 come round to the Misses Eushey Piatt, and then 
 suddenly she exclaimed to herself, " Good gracious, 
 I wonder what time it is ! It's almost dark. " Hastily 
 divesting herself of her skates, and throwing liberal 
 largesse to their proprietor, she once more thanked 
 Reginald for his help, and said she must hurry 
 home, that her friends would be getting anxious. 
 
 " More especially," said Reginald, " should any 
 news of this accident reach them before you return. 
 It would be sheer waste of time to discover the 
 friends who were with you ; we must only hope that, 
 like ourselves, they reached the shore in safety." 
 
 " I am by myself," she replied, " and, though I 
 am anxious to get back, they are not likely to feel 
 alarmed on that account, as no one knows that I 
 had any intention of skating," and she held out her 
 hand to say good bye. 
 
 " Odd," thought Reginald, " a pretty, lady-like 
 girl coming up here to skate by herself among such 
 a very mixed crowd as she might be sure of finding 
 in any of the parks." 
 
 " I don't think," he replied, laughing, " you can 
 do as yet without your escort. What with people 
 flying from it and people flocking to the scene of 
 the accident, the crowd is, if anything, denser than 
 it was on the ice. Let me see you through it and 
 put you comfortably into a hansom, and then I 
 shall feel that you are really in safety." 
 
SKATING FOR LIFE. 31 
 
 Kate gratefully accepted his offer. She was by 
 no means a nervous young woman, but she recog- 
 nised that to make her way through that hurrying, 
 excited crowd, would be hard work for a lady, and 
 before they were out of the park, she had much 
 reason to be thankful for the support of Reginald's 
 arm. Once there, a cab was soon picked up, and 
 having placed his charge in it, Reginald asked 
 where he should tell the man to drive. 
 
 " York Terrace," replied Miss Darley demurely. 
 "I don't know how to thank you sufficiently for 
 your kindness. Thanking anyone for saving one's 
 life is very difficult. All words seem so trite and 
 commonplace." 
 
 "You are making much of very little," he re- 
 plied. "You must allow me to call and satisfy my- 
 self that you are none the worse for the perils we 
 have braved together. What number shall I tell 
 him ? " 
 
 u I am sure you will add to the debt I owe you," 
 replied Kate, "by not making any enquiry about 
 where I live. York Terrace will be quite sufficient. 
 Thanks. Once more, good-bye." 
 
 Reginald felt that he could make no further en- 
 quiry, and having given the driver the necessary 
 direction, raised his hat and walked leisurely away. 
 
 " Quite an adventure," he muttered, " and very 
 near being an awkward one too. We shan't know 
 all about it till to-morrow morning, but I am afraid 
 there were a lot of people drowned. Of course, 
 there were lots of appliances for saving life, and 
 
32 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 any amount of assistance at hand, but then there 
 was the panic, there's no reckoning with that. As a 
 theatrical manager once said to me, ' I'd back 
 my audience to be out of the house in three 
 minutes on any ordinary night; in case of fire, I 
 daresay it would take three quarters of an hour.' 
 What a pretty girl the companion of my race for 
 life was ! How I wonder what she was ! She 
 looked a lady, but skating all by herself up 
 in that crowd, doesn't look as if she was very 
 particular. However, she didn't desire to culti- 
 vate my acquaintance. I can't boast of receiving 
 any encouragement at all events. Why, if she 
 had been drowned this afternoon, nobody would 
 have ever known what became of her. Good 
 Heavens, there's an idea; what a dramatic exit 
 from this world ! You were thinking of disappearing 
 from the ken of your creditors this morning young 
 man. Now's your time, here's your opportunity. 
 I must have a smoke, and think this over," and 
 lighting a cigar, Eeginald proceeded to walk up 
 and down Portland Place, in which he now found 
 himself, for the space of at least an hour. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " < ERUPIT EVASIT,' AS TULLY WOULD PHRASE IT." 
 
 Nothing theoretically sounds so easy for a young 
 man living in chambers as to efface himself, to 
 totally disappear. It is a solution of troubles that 
 must often occur; to such there is a touch of 
 
"ERUPIL 1 EVASIT." 33 
 
 melodrama about it, calculated to entrap the ima- 
 gination of youth, but practically, to vanish, and to 
 be accredited dead by all your friends and relations, 
 is fraught with inconceivable difficulties. You are 
 innocent of all crime; there is no cause for the 
 police to interest themselves in your proceedings ; 
 and yet you must be friendless indeed, if there is 
 not a hue and cry raised at your disappearance. 
 The nomads of the streets, houseless wanderers, 
 may fade away by the noiseless river, or be found 
 wrapped in eternal sleep on curb or doorstep, and 
 there may be none to enquire who it was or what 
 manner of life had been that which had led to so 
 sad an ending ; but for a young man of position to 
 be missing is sure to provoke a searching enquiry 
 as to what has become of him, and people, to say 
 nothing of the law, are slow to believe in the death 
 of one whose body has not been discovered. It may 
 be doubted whether Eeginald Chacewater took all 
 this into consideration, but he was shrewd enough 
 to see that if he determined to take advantage 
 of the accident, and be returned as amongst the 
 missing, that there were a good many precautions 
 to be taken, and a good many little things to be 
 thought about. To begin with, money was a neces- 
 sity. He must have the wherewithal to live, until 
 he had devised some means of earning his own living. 
 He had fortunately a considerable sum in his pos- 
 session at the present moment, but to obtain it it 
 was necessary to get back to his chambers, and that 
 without observation. To do this, he must wait till 
 
 3 
 
34 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 the small hours of the morning, when Cross, the 
 Temple porter, would be in his bed, instead of 
 in the lodge, and he should run little risk of en- 
 countering any acquaintance, either in quadrangle 
 or on staircase. The idea fascinated him, and as 
 he threw away his cigar, his mind was made up. 
 He would get something to eat in one of the obscure 
 restaurants of Portland Street, get through the 
 hours as he best could, till it was safe to regain his 
 rooms at the Temple, then get his money, thrust a 
 few things into a handbag, and take one of the first 
 trains out of London in the morning. Where to ? it 
 didn't much matter, as long as it was to some place 
 where he was quite unknown, one was as good as 
 another. 
 
 He never reflected on all the sorrow that he must 
 inevitably occasion at the Grange, of the agony it 
 would cause his mother, of the tears that would 
 trickle down the cheeks of his pet sister Jessie, and 
 that the loss of his only son would wring his father's 
 heart in a manner to which the mere irritation of 
 having to pay his debts would have been as nothing. 
 No, I am afraid Eeginald simply regarded the whole 
 thing as a stupendous lark. It world be a " tre- 
 mendous sell " for his creditors, and after a short 
 time when the public had allowed a welcome to a 
 new writer, he would emerge from oblivion, and re- 
 appear at the Grange with all his budding laurels 
 thick upon him. He had thought the thing well 
 out, and counted up carefully every point in his 
 game, and Cross the porter could testify to his 
 
"ERUPIT EVASIT." 35 
 
 having left the Temple with his skates in his hand 
 and with the avowed intention of using them. 
 Since the accident he had luckily encountered no 
 one he knew, as he summed it up to himself; there 
 was proof of his intention on leaving the Temple ; 
 there was a terrible accident on the ice in the 
 Eegent's Park that afternoon and nothing had been 
 heard of him since. The sole person who positively 
 knew anything about him was the girl he had 
 rescued, and even she could not possibly know who 
 he was. It was not likely that he should ever see 
 her again, and if he did, how was she to know that 
 he was supposed to be drowned ? The conjecture 
 couldn't possibly enter her head. In short, when 
 Mr. Chacewater, carrying a small handbag, emerged 
 from the Temple about four in the morning, he 
 muttered to himself, " Now the world is all before 
 me ; exit Reginald Chacewater, barrister, and ent er 
 — confound it, I must have a name. I never thought 
 of that. What shall I call myself ? " And pon- 
 dering on this knotty problem, he made the best 
 of his way to Waterloo Station. 
 
 It was late when Miss Darley reached the door of 
 the Misses Rushey Piatt. She had been late when 
 she left the scene of the accident. It had taken, 
 moreover, some time, as we know, for herself and 
 Reginald to make their way through the excited 
 crowd then thronging the Park ; but even after the 
 cab had safely deposited her in York Terrace, she 
 walked up and down for some little time, thinking 
 of the adventure of the afternoon. No sooner was 
 
 3* 
 
36 A RACING RUHBER. 
 
 the door opened, in answer to her knock, than one 
 glance at the servant-maid's face sufficed to tell 
 Miss Darley that something unexpected had taken 
 place. Sarah's face was a mixture of pity and con- 
 sternation, as of one who pities another, for having 
 got into a terrible scrape. 
 
 " Oh, please, Miss," she exclaimed, without 
 waiting to be interrogated, " we've been all in 
 such an awful state about you. The old ladies 
 are half out of their minds about it ; they 
 say there's an awful accident up in the ' Kegent's,' 
 and Miss Jemima sent me out to buy an even- 
 ing paper ; and please, Miss, the laundress's girl, 
 who came in an hour ago, declares she passed 
 you walking in the Park; and that there's lots 
 of people drowned, and she thought it very likely 
 you were one of them ; but of course you weren't, 
 Miss ; but I'm awful glad to see you back all the 
 same." 
 
 " Thank you, Sarah," replied Miss Darley, laugh- 
 ing as she ran up-stairs. As she passed the 
 drawing-room door, a voice from within called out : 
 " Is that Miss Darley ? " And Kate replying in the 
 affirmative, she was at once told to come in ; and 
 obeying the request, found herself in the presence 
 of her two instructresses. 
 
 " Thank Heavens, Miss Darley, we see you alive," 
 exclaimed Miss Jemima, the younger of the two 
 ladies. " You have given us both quite a turn. We 
 had no idea you were out." 
 
 " You neglected to acquaint us with your inten- 
 
"ERUPIT EVASIT." 37 
 
 tion in that respect," observed Miss Kuskey Piatt, 
 with considerable asperity. 
 
 " And there's a terrible accident taken place on 
 the ice in the Eegent's Park, and there's a foolish 
 girl here from the laundress, who would insist upon 
 it that she'd seen you in the Park this afternoon," 
 continued Miss Jemima. " Of course we know now 
 it was all a mistake, but it made us very anxious." 
 
 " My nerves are all in a twitter," said Miss 
 Rushey Piatt. " It has given me a shock that I 
 shall not recover from this evening. Your going 
 out without asking permission is indefensible, indeed 
 I may say wicked." 
 
 " But I told you I was right, Laura," exclaimed 
 Miss Jemima triumphantly. " I felt sure Miss 
 Darley would never commit such a monstrous impro- 
 priety as to go into the Regent's Park by herself, 
 especially crowded with such a very mixed lot of 
 people, as it must have been lately, in consequence 
 of the skating." 
 
 But Kate's temper was up, and it was with a 
 rebellious smile she replied : 
 
 " The girl was right, I was there ; and, what's 
 more, I skated." 
 
 She might have committed an imprudence ; but, 
 had Miss Darley confessed to heinous crime, the two 
 sisters could not have been more dismayed. Words 
 failed them. Miss Rushey Piatt's lips syllabled the 
 word " skated," but no sound escape^ them, while 
 Miss Jemima, who was of a softer disposition, could 
 hardly refrain from weeping over this obviously in> 
 
38 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 penitent sinner. The idea that one of their young 
 ladies should have been guilty of such a shameful 
 vulgarity was indeed more than the Misses Kushey 
 Piatt could bear. 
 
 " Go to your room, Miss Darley," exclaimed the 
 elder, at last. " I am quite unfit to speak to you 
 to-night ; but your common sense must tell you 
 that it is impossible for a young lady who displays 
 such an utter disregard of the conventionalities of 
 society to continue to reside under our roof. Now 
 go." ' 
 
 Kate bent her head and disappeared. On arriving 
 in her own room, she closed the door, and breaking 
 into a fit of rippling laughter, murmured to herself 
 — " Well, now I have done it. I have made this 
 place too hot to hold me. They'll never get over it. 
 The idea of one of their young ladies pirouetting 
 amongst the mob will haunt them to their dying 
 day. They forget that I am a daughter of the 
 people, and that the base-born blood in my veins 
 will break out sometimes. Ah," she said, after 
 another merry peal of laughter, " it's all very well, 
 but what's to become of me ? I shall have to leave 
 to-morrow, no doubt. I won't go home ; but where 
 I am to go is a puzzle. It's not likely that the 
 Misses Kushey Piatt will give me a recommendation, 
 and it's hardly to be supposed that any family would 
 be willing to accept an interesting stranger in any 
 capacity without some guarantee. How lucky Jim 
 was ! When he fled from the wrath to come, he had 
 that Mr. Praze to go to. What am I to do ? My 
 
'•ERUP1T EVASIT." 39 
 
 slender store won't keep me for very long ; and if I 
 can't contrive to earn my own living, there will be 
 nothing for it but to go home, and I wovtt go 
 home." And while puzzling over this problem, 
 Kate's healthy young appetite once more re-asserted 
 its claim. She had had nothing to eat for several 
 hours, and had had, moreover, an afternoon of un- 
 wonted exercise. She rang the bell, and desired 
 Sarah to get her some tea and something to eat. 
 And while the girl was getting it, she made up her 
 mind to pack up her trunks and leave the house 
 quietly without any further interview with the Misses 
 Kushey Piatt. 
 
 In pursuance of this determination, she told the 
 girl, on her return, to call her early the next morn- 
 ing, and then, having finished her preparations for 
 departure, went to bed. But, though tired, she was 
 unable to sleep. Whether she was over-tired, or 
 whether it was the excitement of her escape from 
 the ice, matters little, but, resolutely though she 
 wooed it, sleep seemed further from her eyelids 
 than ever. All the events of the day were whirling 
 in her brain. Once more she heard the first terrible 
 crack of the ice ; once more the wild cry of — " To 
 the banks ! " and the shrieks of the knocked down 
 and terrified women rang in her ears ; once more 
 she saw the wild rush of the panic-stricken crowd, 
 and then thought that she was knocked down and 
 sinking. She was in that slightly feverish state 
 which is worse than utter wakefulness, when, though 
 unconscious of sleep, we constantly keep dozing 
 
40 A RACING- RUBBER. 
 
 off for a few minutes at a time, only to awake 
 with a start from more or less disagreeable dreams. 
 Through all such phantasies, Eeginald Chacewater 
 was a prominent actor. Sometimes they were 
 perishing together, sometimes he was the rescuer ; 
 but whichever way the vision might shape itself, 
 he figured conspicuously. And with her wakeful 
 moments came the more common-place, but equally 
 unpleasant reflection that a full and high-coloured 
 report of her misdemeanours would be forwarded to 
 the Grange. That anyone could deem there was 
 any harm in skating itself, she knew she could 
 afford to laugh at. She did not even suppose that 
 the Misses Eushey Piatt were so narrow-minded as 
 that, but for a young lady of eighteen to plunge, 
 unaccompanied, into the Saturnalia of a London 
 Ice Carnival was, she knew, a breach of decorum not 
 easy to justify. Mrs. Chacewater, though by no 
 means a stickler for the proprieties, and even one of 
 the earliest apostles of athletic exercises for girls, 
 would, she knew, shake her head at it, if she did no 
 more ; and in the silence of the night-time, Kate 
 pictured that lady having a great deal more to say 
 about it than that, while she could fancy Jessie as 
 much shocked as her present duennas. Kate had 
 grown very fond of the Grange family. Mrs. Chace- 
 water had not only been very kind, but had done a 
 great deal for her, and Kate winced at the idea of 
 being held guilty of wrong-doing in that lady's 
 eyes. 
 
 It was a mere mad, girlish escapade, of which no 
 
A DDAL MYSTERY. 41 
 
 harm had come, and that was all that could fairly 
 be said about it ; but such stories lose nothing in 
 telling ; and I am not sure that the committal of 
 actual crime is not easier excused and explained 
 away than a doubtful episode of this kind, which is 
 not justified at the moment. Any way, it never 
 occurred to Kate that the course she proposed was 
 the very worst she could take, as far as putting 
 herself right in the eyes of the Chacewaters went. 
 To leave abruptly without giving any clue to her 
 intentions was an acknowledgment of her offending, 
 and a tacit admission that it was even worse than 
 it had appeared, inasmuch as the culprit had fled 
 sooner than face the consequences of her misdeeds. 
 
 However, true to her determination, Kate de- 
 parted, bag and baggage, early the next morning ; 
 and when the Misses Eushey Piatt went down to 
 breakfast, it was only to be met with the — to them 
 — astounding tidings that Miss Darley had been 
 gone more than an hour, leaving behind her neither 
 message, letter, nor address. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " A DUAL MYSTERY." 
 
 The daily papers that morning carried terrible 
 tidings into some households, and grave anxiety 
 into others. They were all full of the accident, and 
 contained the names of several of those who had 
 been drawn from the icy waters too late, but who 
 had been already recognised by friends or relations. 
 
42 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 Several more were there, not as yet identified ; but 
 one singular phase of the disaster had yet to exhibit 
 itself to the public, and was a curious example of 
 the vacillation of humanity. In the course of the 
 next few days, it was marvellous to notice how 
 many of those who had started with the avowed 
 intention of enjoying themselves on the ice, had 
 changed their mind and betaken themselves some- 
 where else — men who had been mourned for by 
 their families, whose inexplicable absence from home 
 had been attributed to their having perished in the 
 disaster in the Eegent's Park, suddenly reappeared ; 
 and it may be hoped, in some cases, were able to 
 satisfactorily account for their absence. The reverse 
 was also conspicuous. People whose friends had no 
 suspicion that they intended to skate were num- 
 bered amongst the dead, having yielded to the like 
 sudden impulse that had possessed Kate. 
 
 The Squire read the account of the catastrophe to 
 his wife and daughter at the breakfast table, who, 
 shocked though they were to hear of such loss of 
 life, little thought that they were personally con- 
 cerned in it. But the following morning brought a 
 letter from Miss Rushey Piatt, which contained an 
 elaborate account of Miss Parley's misdemeanour. 
 The indictment was by no means framed mali- 
 ciously, but it must be borne in mind that in the 
 eyes of the prim and precise schoolmistress, a 
 breach of the conventionalities was a grave offence ; 
 and what she deemed vulgarity, a deadly sin ; and 
 Miss Darley had clearly been guilty in these matters 
 
A DUAL MYSTERY. 43 
 
 of conduct not befitting a lady. Miss Kushey Piatt 
 again could conscientiously say, that she had always 
 treated Kate kindly ; although she had entered her 
 establishment as a pupil-teacher, she had honestly 
 made no difference between her and the other 
 young ladies entrusted to her charge ; and, to leave 
 without saying farewell, to abscond, as Miss Eushey 
 Piatt put it, like "a mutinous maid-servant well- 
 nigh come to the end of her anarchies," was be- 
 neath a girl in Miss Darley's position. Miss Eushey 
 Piatt's narrative therefore painted the delinquent in 
 very sombre colours, and wound up with fears lest 
 the unhappy girl might have formed some objec- 
 tionable acquaintance, and so fallen under evil 
 influences. 
 
 "My knowledge of the world," she continued, 
 « tells me that no girl brought up under my charge 
 could have dreamed of perpetrating such a vulgarity 
 as Miss Darley has been guilty of, unless persuaded 
 to it by some undesirable acquaintance, and it is 
 with the deepest regret, my dear Mrs. Chacewater, 
 that I express my opinion that this undesirable 
 acquaintance will turn out to be of the Male Sex." 
 
 Poor dear Miss Eushey Piatt knew about as much 
 of the world as if she had been brought up in a 
 convent. If Kate had committed an error in 
 decamping in the way she did, she had certainly 
 been right in despairing of making the school- 
 mistress ever understand the wild impulse that had 
 seized upon her. That to dissipate a fit of the 
 blues, a girl could rush off and commit such a 
 
44 A RACING EUBBER. 
 
 terrible breach of decorum as Kate had done, she 
 could never have believed. Her story would have 
 met with little credence from Miss Eushey Piatt. 
 But then there were others to be considered — Mrs. 
 Chacewater, for instance, who could have thoroughly 
 understood the uncontrolled desire that a girl, 
 brought up as Kate had been, might feel when 
 suffering under a fit of depression, for a good gallop 
 or its equivalent, looked serious as she asked herself 
 the question, " What on earth made her run away ? 
 It was a foolish thing, and, without doubt, an un- 
 justifiable thing of her to go off skating by herself, 
 but she surely must have known that she had 
 nothing to fear but a good scolding, and Kate 
 Darley is not at all the girl to run away from that. 
 I sincerely hope there are no grounds for this old 
 woman's suggestion, but Kate's very young, and 
 what Miss Rushey Piatt just hints at is, of course, 
 possible. I devoutly hope it's not so, for anything 
 of that sort would probably have a miserable 
 ending." 
 
 Jessie was much surprised and distressed when 
 she heard from her mother of her friend's disappear- 
 ance, and in the subsequent conversation that 
 ensued between them, Mrs. Chacewater convinced 
 herself that if Kate had a lover, Jessie, at all events, 
 was not in her confidence. 
 
 It may easily be surmised that a very short time 
 elapsed before Reginald was missed. The alarm 
 was given in the first instance by Cross, the porter 
 at the gate, who, as we know, was aware that young 
 
A DUAL MYSTERY. 45 
 
 Chacewater had left the Temple with his skates in 
 his hand. All London was ringing with the 
 accounts of the accident, and that Cross should 
 be specially on the qui vive to note Eeginald's 
 appearance next day was only natural. He never 
 set eyes on him. He had never seen him return 
 from that skating expedition, and then the porter 
 deemed it worth while to mention all this to 
 some of those he knew to be on friendly terms with 
 the young man. It was speedily ascertained that 
 Chacewater's oak was persistently sported, and that 
 knock as you might, drum as you liked on the 
 solid panels, or kick till you were tired, not the 
 slightest response was made from within. One of 
 his intimates put a watch upon the rooms for four- 
 and-twenty hours, and ascertained that no one had 
 either left or entered them during that time. 
 Others, meanwhile, had visited the Koyal Humane 
 Society offices to see whether the missing man 
 might be amongst the nameless dead; but no, if 
 Keginald Chacewater had been amongst the victims 
 on that fatal afternoon, it was quite clear that so 
 far his body had not been reclaimed. The Humane 
 Society had little belief that they had not recovered 
 the remains of all those who had perished, but 
 admitted that it was possible there might be a 
 corpse or two entangled amongst the weeds, that 
 had as yet escaped the drags and their appurten- 
 ances. All inquiries at his usual haunts failed to 
 elicit the slightest trace of him; at one or two 
 Bohemian clubs of which he had been a constant 
 
46 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 frequenter, there was no knowledge of him. Since 
 the accident, nobody could be found that had seen 
 him. By this time, a paragraph in the papers had 
 carried grief and anxiety to the Grange, and 
 brought the Squire up to London. The hue and 
 cry was raised for the missing man in all directions, 
 but in vain ; and his friends asked each other the 
 question, If Eeginald is not under the water in the 
 Eegent's Park, what on earth has become of him ? 
 Where has he gone, and why did he go ? There 
 never was a man with less mystery about him. He 
 was the last fellow in the world to go off without 
 announcing his departure to his intimates. But he 
 had said never a word of his intention to anyone. 
 On the other hand, against the theory that he had 
 been drowned on that fatal afternoon, it was urged 
 that, though the sea might not give up its dead, it 
 could hardly be supposed that such was the case 
 with the piece of water in the Regent's Park. The 
 ice was now quite gone, and all those employed in 
 searching its waters denied the probability of there 
 being any body still unrecovered. Possibility there 
 might be, probability there was none. For a week 
 at least, Herbert Chace water was untiring in his 
 search for his son. Not a suggestion was given him 
 that he did not at once follow up, without regard of 
 time or expense ; but all ended in the same way : 
 not a trace of the missing man could be found, not 
 the slightest clue as to what had led to his dis- 
 appearance. His chambers were broken into ; but 
 this, if anything, only made the affair still more 
 
A DUAL MYSTERY. 47 
 
 mysterious. As far as those who searched them 
 could make out, things there all remained as usual. 
 His clothes, portmanteau, etc., were all in their 
 accustomed places ; nothing was missing save his 
 skates, which, since the commencement of the frost, 
 two or three of his intimates remembered to have 
 seen lying on one of the upper shelves of the book- 
 case. As one of them said : 
 
 " Poor Reginald rather fancied himself in skates, 
 and the last time I saw him, pointed his out saying 
 that he hadn't had a turn on them for the last two 
 years, and must take advantage of the present 
 frost." 
 
 Sadly, at length, the Squire came to the conclu- 
 sion that he could do no more. Reginald had 
 unaccountably disappeared, and what had caused 
 him to do so was beyond conjecture. But Mr. 
 Chacewater was far from convinced that his son was 
 dead. He had gone out to skate, there was no 
 doubt ; but not only was there no evidence to show 
 that he was one of the victims of the fatal accident, 
 but there was no evidence to show that he had even 
 been to the Regent's Park at all. He could do no 
 more, and returned to the Grange, with no better 
 tidings than the somewhat negative comfort that, if 
 he did not bring news of his safety, there was as yet 
 no decisive proof of his death. 
 
 It can hardly be supposed that the coincidence of 
 the disappearance of Kate Darley and Reginald on 
 the same day failed to escape Mrs. Chacewater, and 
 she racked her brains to think if there could be any 
 
48 A RACING RUBBER 
 
 possible connection between the two. But no ; it 
 was most unlikely. Her son could hardly have seen 
 Miss Darley ; and yet it was very singular that they 
 should both be missing on the same day, and pre- 
 sumably have passed that afternoon in skating at 
 the same place. About Kate there was no doubt. 
 She had been seen safe and sound after the accident, 
 and had avowed where she had been and what she 
 had been doing. In Reginald's case it was true this 
 was only supposition. Was it possible that he and 
 Kate had met that afternoon ? Could there have 
 been a previous acquaintance between them, un- 
 known even to Jessie as well as the rest of them ? 
 And gradually Mrs. Chacewater worked herself 
 round to the conclusion that Miss Rushey Piatt was 
 right, that the " undesirable acquaintance " was " of 
 the Male Sex," and her son was the man. If she 
 was right in this theory, then Kate was the key to 
 the enigma. Find Kate and you would have found 
 Reginald. The lady of the Grange was a clever 
 and a prudent woman ; they by no means always go 
 together. She resolved to keep her opinion to her- 
 self, but quietly to make every effort to discover 
 Miss Darley. She shared her husband's belief that 
 Reginald was not dead, and jumped to the conclu- 
 sion that was the way to seek him. 
 
 Another person to whom the simultaneous dis- 
 appearance of the twain had been a severe blow was 
 Tom Bramber. About three years older than 
 Reginald, he had known him from boyhood, and, 
 though only the son of one of Mr. Chacewater's 
 
A DUAL MYSTERY. 49 
 
 tenants, had been the young Squire's companion 
 both in cricket and hunting-field. Mr. Chacewater 
 was a landlord of the old sort, and often asked his 
 tenants to join him when he shot over their farms, 
 and many a hard day at the partridges had 
 Eeginald and Tom Bramber put in together. Kate 
 Darley he had known from a child, but the last two 
 or three years had transformed her into a very 
 pretty young woman, and occasioned, as such change 
 will, considerable alteration in Tom Bramber's senti- 
 ments. He thought her just about the prettiest 
 girl in all the country round. His regular attend- 
 ance in church was, I am afraid, more to be 
 attributed to Kate Darley than to those far higher 
 motives that ought to have influenced him. He 
 admired her walking, but he worshipped her on 
 horseback, and vowed that to see Miss Darley ride 
 when hounds were running, was a sight worth going 
 miles to look upon, from all of which it may easily 
 be gathered that Tom Bramber was very much in 
 love. So far he had had no reason to despair. He 
 was not only a very suitable, but would undoubtedly 
 have been pronounced a good match for her by any- 
 one capable of expressing an opinion on the subject; 
 and now he was haunted by the simultaneous dis- 
 appearance of the twain, for with all the jealousy of 
 love, he had come to the same conclusion as Mrs. 
 Chacewater, that the pair had gone off together. 
 That this should make Tom Bramber miserable was 
 a matter of course. He loved the girl, and would 
 have been only too proud to make her his wife. 
 
 4 
 
50 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 Would Mr. Keginald, ignoring the difference of 
 their positions, deal as honestly with her as that ? 
 It was bad enough to lose her, but he could bear it 
 better if he only knew that she was married. He 
 had even less grounds than Mrs. Chacewater for his 
 suspicions. Keginald's visits to the Grange had 
 been so rare since he left Cambridge, that it would 
 have puzzled Tom to say positively that the young 
 Squire had ever seen Kate since she had grown up. 
 Mrs. Darley wept when the news reached her, but 
 the old man heard it with sullen indifference. It 
 was not a subject upon which his acquaintance 
 ventured to comment, and though, perhaps, except 
 Tom Bramber, nobody suspected the young Squire 
 of having anything to do with Kate's disappearance, 
 yet when a young woman is rumoured to be 
 missing from her home or situation in country 
 parishes, gossip is wont to put but one construction 
 upon it. 
 
 In due course it was made known to Jim Darley 
 that his sister had vanished, fled, nobody knew 
 where, and nobody knew why ; but if they didn't 
 know, they could surmise ; nor was Jim's informant 
 altogether reticent about the imaginings of the 
 village. The lad was devotedly attached to his 
 sister. She stood in his regard higher than even 
 " King of the Huns " himself, and such a horse as 
 that Jim would have staked his existence had never 
 been foaled. He was furious at the innuendoes of 
 his native place. He scouted the idea of his sister 
 doing anything wrong ; and again and again the 
 
KING OF THE HUNS. 51 
 
 boy shook his head ruefully as he asked himself the 
 question, What did she run away for ? Kate, too, 
 who had never feared anything in her life. He 
 couldn't understand it. He chafed and worried 
 dreadfully over the whole business, but he stood 
 loyally to his belief in his sister, and only thought 
 sadly that the scrape must have been indeed a bad 
 one, the consequences of which Kate shrank from 
 facing. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "KING OF THE HUNS." 
 
 In the early spring time, it began to be buzzed 
 about that there was a dangerous outsider for the 
 Derby at Newmarket, in the stable of Mr. James 
 Praze. Professional turfites had little belief in such 
 stories. "Was there ever a year," they asked, 
 " when there wasn't a dangerous outsider, for the 
 race in question ? " And when their opponents 
 triumphantly cited the well-known instances which 
 proved their case, the cynics replied by pointing ou$ 
 the much more numerous occasions upon which 
 these black swans had turned out to be geese of the 
 most ordinary description, and then naturally came 
 that most conclusive of all arguments to an English- 
 man, a bet, and the pencilling of the long odds 
 against " King of the Huns." The horse had never 
 yet made his appearance in public, albeit the subject 
 of some little talk in racing circles. His name had 
 been whispered occasionally in club smoking-rooms by 
 
52 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 those men who invariably do know what will win the 
 Derby weeks before the event ; still report varied 
 much about him — he was a rank impostor, he was 
 touched in his wind. Why if he was all right had 
 they not run him as a two-year-old ? Then again 
 he was entered in the name of a Mr. Bramber. Who 
 on earth was Mr. Bramber ? Did anyone before 
 ever hear of Mr. Bramber as an owner of race- 
 horses ? And against all this, the supporters of the 
 " King " could only reply by looking very wise, and 
 recommending his detractors just to wait and see. 
 
 At any other time Tom Bramber would have been 
 wild with excitement about the approaching debut 
 of " King of the Huns," for the fastidious Mr. 
 Praze had at last admitted that the colt was about 
 ready to run, and, further, gone the length of ex- 
 pressing an opinion that he would bustle up some of 
 them. Which, being interpreted, meant that his 
 opponents would find the beating of him no easy 
 task ; but now Tom was too wretched about this 
 love affair of his to think much about anything 
 else. A straightforward honest young fellow in all 
 the throes of his first attachment, and now the 
 object of his devotion had been stolen from him by 
 a man who, though above him in station, he had 
 looked upon as a friend. If when he next heard of 
 her it should be as a happy wife, then he felt that 
 he could get over it in time, but if the suspicion 
 that haunted him should prove true, and she should 
 turn out to be living in shame with Keginald, then 
 Tom vowed there should be a bitter reckoning 
 
KING OF THE HUNS. 53 
 
 between him and the young Squire. What he would 
 do, in what way he would strike at this false friend, 
 he had at present no conception, but only let him 
 once be assured that his fears were too true, and 
 Kate's dishonour should be avenged, he was deter- 
 mined. 
 
 Day by day the name of " King of the Huns " 
 becomes more current amongst those who discourse 
 on racing. It figures now pretty frequently in the 
 quotations at Tattersall's, and people who, like Acres, 
 have a craving for a long shot, question the book- 
 makers about what they will lay against " King of 
 the Huns," and, the price being still liberal, venture 
 their modest stake accordingly. It is rumoured 
 now that he will make his first appearance in the 
 Two Thousand Gruineas, and those who a few weeks 
 back pooh-poohed his pretensions, are more guarded 
 in their language, as it becomes apparent he will be 
 speedily put to the test. " Whatever he may be," 
 said one cheery speculator, who had laid his whole 
 book for the great Epsom event against him, " they 
 are going to show him at last, and I am bound to 
 say that when James Praze does show them, they 
 are apt to look deuced well at both ends of the 
 race" 
 
 Only a day or two after this remark, the sporting 
 papers chronicled as the feature of the day the rapid 
 advance of " King of the Huns " in the betting, 
 both for the Two Thousand and the Derby. Dark, 
 yes he was dark, as far as the public were concerned, 
 but James Praze made few mistakes, and he knew 
 
54 A EACING- EUBBEB. 
 
 all about it. And, in the first ferment that the 
 news of a commission to back him occasioned, the 
 whispers regarding his capabilities were wondrous. 
 The trials that he was reported to have won were 
 simply preposterous. According to some of his 
 credulous supporters, he could give any amount of 
 weight to anything at Newmarket, and the arbitrary 
 assertion that he could give two stone to old 
 " Logarithm," provoked the laughing rejoinder that 
 the speaker was sorry to hear the old horse was 
 dead. The next day it was stated positively that 
 people would not be compelled to wait so long as 
 they had expected for the " King's " appearance, 
 that he would make his debut in the Craven Meet- 
 ing ; in short, that " King of the Huns " was " going 
 like great guns," and a certain starter for the 
 Biennial. Some of the best colts for the year were 
 entered for that, and as the race was run over the 
 same course as the Two Thousand, should they 
 compete, the pretensions of " King of the Huns " 
 would be speedily settled. He would either be 
 shown to be the great horse his friends declared he 
 was, or the impostor his detractors pronounced him. 
 That there should be great difference between the 
 love of a lover and that of a brother is natural ; the 
 jealousy which more or less tinges the first is absent 
 from the second, and while that very colouring 
 impelled Tom Bramber to place the worst construc- 
 tion on the missing girl's conduct, her brother's 
 faith never wavered. He was grieved, he was 
 worried, he was afraid Kate was in trouble of 
 
KING OF THE HUNS, 55 
 
 some kind, but his anxiety was not so great as to 
 destroy his intense interest in the first appearance 
 of his horse, the colt that he had looked after 
 for the last two years, and on the back of which 
 he secretly hoped to make his first appearance 
 " in silk." Often Jim Darley pictured to himself 
 the roar of thousands of throats shouting " ' King 
 of the Huns ' wins ! " and seeing the " King's " 
 number on the board, and Mr. Praze leading him 
 back to the weighing room, and giving him, Jim, a 
 word of encouragement as he did so. Talk about 
 the pictures Kate used to paint for him, in which 
 he figured sometimes as the master of foxhounds, 
 and better still, sometimes as the huntsman of a 
 crack pack ! What were they to the glories of a 
 jockey weighing-in for his first success ? And then 
 Jim would look forward to a triumphant career, in 
 which he gradually arrived at the very top of his 
 profession, and participated in the big retainers and 
 general largesse, which reward the skill of the 
 victorious horsemen of modern days. 
 
 The quaint little town in Cambridgeshire is 
 filling up, and keen though the wind sweeps across 
 the Heath, the London trains bring crowds to join 
 in the fun. Lords by right, and lords by courtesy, 
 genuine members of the Upper House, and the 
 spurious nobility of the betting ring, jostle each 
 other in the streets. There were chiefs before 
 Agamemnon, and did not the betting ring of days 
 not long gone boast its D'Orsay, its Lord Chester- 
 field, and Lord Frederick ? Members of Parliament 
 
56 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 and members of Tattersall's rub shoulders in the 
 High, or on the steps of the Eutland. The old 
 stagers, who look upon the Houghton as the last 
 meeting of the legitimate season, and eschew 
 November racing, were all to the fore to see the 
 ball open once more. Hearty greetings are ex- 
 changed on all sides amongst men, many of whom 
 have not met for the last three or four months. 
 There is much racing gossip, and much interchange 
 of opinions over the big events of the coming season, 
 and above all there is much curiosity concerning 
 " King of the Huns." Is he the good-looking 
 colt his supporters declare him to be? Would he 
 win to-morrow ? But on these points it is not so 
 easy to obtain judgment. Few of the visitors have 
 as yet been on the Heath, and those that have seen 
 the " King," are confined principally to those who 
 live at Newmarket, and professional horse watchers, 
 and among these latter, Mr. Bramber's colt has 
 apparently not found favour. 
 
 Tre betting at the Subscription Eooms that even- 
 ing was brisk, and it was soon evident that those 
 connected with Mr. Praze's stable were very sanguine 
 about the success of their colt, notwithstanding that 
 in " Chorister " and " Ganymede " he would have to 
 encounter two of the best performers of the previous 
 year, both of which he would also run the chance of 
 meeting in most of the great three-year-old contests 
 of the present season. The Biennial Stakes in 
 consequence assumed an importance to which other- 
 wise they had no pretension. Whatever colt might 
 
KING OF THE HUNS. 57 
 
 win to-morrow he would undoubtedly, should his 
 victory be obtained easily, be looked upon as quite 
 at the top of the tree among those of his own age, 
 and the favourites for future events would most 
 certainly find themselves deposed from their pride 
 of place, should the dark outsider fulfil the hopes of 
 his trainer. No secret was made that John Wrench 
 had been retained to ride the " King," that no 
 finer horseman ever finished over the Eowley Mile 
 was admitted on all sides, and that Mr. Praze's colt 
 would have every justice done him that jockeyship 
 could give. As might have been expected, the next 
 day there was a large muster in the Bird Cage to 
 inspect the competitors for the Biennial, and many 
 good judges scanned " King of the Huns " narrowly, 
 and though, as was natural, differing more or less in 
 their estimate, picking holes in him here and over- 
 praising him there, upon one point they were all 
 agreed, that the great slashing brown colt was fit to 
 run for his life, and that if defeated it would be from 
 no lack of condition. 
 
 There is not much to choose in the betting 
 between " Chorister " and " Ganymede." The 
 friends of both seem equally confident, and there is 
 plenty of money behind both horses. With " King 
 of the Huns " it is different, although there are a 
 certain number of racing men who never allow a 
 colt of clever James Praze's to run without backing 
 it, still the people immediately connected with the 
 stable are neither numerous nor heavy betters, and 
 the investments consequently are much more 
 
58 A RACINQ EUBBER. 
 
 limited on the unknown " King of the Huns " than 
 those made by the more aristocratic stables to which 
 his well-proved rivals belong, and even as the horses 
 go down to the post, ten to one is offered against 
 the " King." The books are closed at last, glasses 
 are raised, the war of the Ring is still, a low hum of 
 muttered ejaculations fills the ear, broken only by the 
 shrill cry of some hungry fielder, who still defiantly 
 offers to lay against one of the favourites. There is 
 scarce any delay at the post, and the flag soon falls 
 for a capital start. " King of the Huns " is soon 
 seen well in front, and it is evident has all but over- 
 powered his jockey. But John Wrench is too fine a 
 horseman not to be equal to that emergency. He 
 makes no attempt to waste either his own or the 
 " King's " strength by fighting with him, but allows 
 him to stride along with a commanding lead. His 
 opponents, quite aware of the case, look upon it 
 that the horse must run himself out, and must then, 
 in racing parlance, come back to them, but as they 
 come down the hill to the bushes, the rider of 
 " Chorister " awakes to the fact that there is as yet 
 no sign of that happening, but it is in vain that he 
 and his brethren try to lessen the gap. Wrench, who 
 has now got his horse in hand, simply steadies the 
 " King " as they breast the ascent, and sails in the 
 easiest of winners by four lengths. A great shout 
 goes up from the fielders, as the number of the 
 winner is hoisted, for it is at once realised that the 
 betting on the Derby is completely revolutionised, 
 and offers to take two to one about " King of the 
 
KING OP THE HUNS. 59 
 
 Huns " for that race are pretty frequent. The way 
 Mr. Bramber's horse had spread-eagled his field 
 showed him to be a colt of uncommon excellence, 
 and numerous are the enquiries now, as to Who is 
 Mr. Bramber ? Is he here ? When did he take to 
 racing ? 
 
 Now this was just the question Mr. Praze was 
 asking himself as he led " King of the Huns " back 
 to the weighing-room. Where was Tom Bramber? 
 He had been so impatient to see this colt out, he 
 had so chafed because, in his wisdom, Mr. Praze had 
 declined to prematurely test the horse's powers, and 
 yet, although he had had due notice and the trainer 
 had expressed his belief that he would take a deal 
 of beating, Tom had never turned up. It had been 
 a great triumph, and amply repaid the trainer for 
 the dogged way in which he had waited for the 
 colt's powers to mature. Not only in a modest way 
 had they won a nice stake, but they also stood upon 
 velvet as regarded the Derby, and further, had 
 every reason to congratulate themselves on the 
 possession of, if not the best of his year, at all 
 events a very valuable colt. Jim Darley, too, whose 
 heart was swelling with pride at his horse having^ 
 in his own language polished off the swells, and 
 just shown them what he could do, was also much 
 disappointed at Tom's absence. 
 
 " He ought to have been here, he did, for he owns 
 him if I look after him, and the * King,' he and I all 
 come from the same parish. It's too bad of him not 
 to have been here to see the horse win. Yes, my 
 
60 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 boy," continued Jim as, having received the colt 
 over from Mr. Praze, he patted the " King's " neck 
 and led him away, " and they've got to see yet what 
 we can do, yes, you and I together," and Jim looked 
 forward to the day, not far distant he hoped, when 
 he in his turn should steer the "King" to victory. 
 
 But Tom Bramber was not to be seen at New- 
 market that day, and all Mr. Praze could do was to 
 send off a telegram to him at his Wiltshire home to 
 inform him that " King of the Huns " had won the 
 Biennial in a canter. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Kate might not know London very well, but she 
 was a young lady perfectly able to take care of 
 herself, and was very soon installed in modest 
 lodgings not very far from the Misses Eushey 
 Piatt's establishment. She had severed that con- 
 nection, and escaped a scolding, or " being preached 
 at," as she herself phrased it, by her furtive 
 departure, and the question now was, What was 
 she to do next ? She was a practical young person, 
 and decided that as the earning her own living was 
 of paramount importance, the first thing was to get 
 hold of a morning paper, and see whether its 
 advertising columns contained anything that might 
 suit her. That vast epitome of the wants of our 
 fellow creatures always gives the idea that they 
 must speedily satisfy one another, but, practically 
 
THE ROYAL HIPPODROME. 61 
 
 speaking, I am afraid things do not dove-tail quite 
 so cleverly. There are numerous cooks who want 
 places, and mistresses who require cooks, but when 
 it comes to the exchange of their respective needs, 
 these two sections are apt to differ considerably 
 about what constitutes a cook, similarly those 
 wanting desirable dwellings and those having them 
 to dispose of, differ considerably about the definition 
 of a desirable dwelling. Kate has not got very far 
 in her researches, when she gives a sudden start, 
 as her eye falls upon the following advertisement : 
 
 "Missing Since January, 1867, 
 " Keginald Chacewater — left his chambers in the 
 Temple for the purpose of skating, feared to have 
 been involved in the lamentable accident in the 
 Eegent's Park that afternoon. Anybody who can 
 forward any information about the missing gentle- 
 man to Herbert Chacewater, Chacewater Grange, 
 Bottlesby, v Wilts, will be earnestly thanked and 
 substantially rewarded." 
 
 What could be the meaning of this ? thought Miss 
 Darley. She knew perfectly well that, whatever 
 might have befallen Eeginald since, he had 
 certainly come to no harm in the accident, and yet 
 it was quite clear from this that his own family 
 feared that he was amongst the victims of that 
 catastrophe. And then it suddenly occurred to her, 
 What ought she to do under the circumstances ? 
 Ought she to tell them that Eeginald had un- 
 doubtedly escaped with herself out of the Park that 
 
62 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 evening ; was it her bounden duty to write to Mrs. 
 Chacewater and say so ? But then the explanation 
 as to how she and Eeginald had come to be skating 
 together on that afternoon was not so easy. At a 
 glance she saw that it would be difficult to persuade 
 people that their meeting had been accidental, and 
 she smiled at the thought of what Miss Eushey 
 Piatt would say, should this version of that eventful 
 day's skating come to her ears. Then again she no 
 more wanted to disclose her present whereabouts 
 than did Eeginald Chacewater his, apparently. If 
 she did she would be sure to be ordered to return 
 home, and she was resolved not to go home, and finally 
 Miss Darley made up her mind to keep her know- 
 ledge to herself on this occasion. What an un- 
 pleasant complication these two foolish young 
 people were arranging for themselves, we shall see 
 further on in this history. 
 
 The advertisement had upset the current of 
 Kate's thoughts. Forgetful of her own needs, she 
 could not help wondering what could have happened 
 to Eeginald Chacewater. That he should have any 
 wish or cause to disappear of his own free will never 
 occurred to her. She knew there was much robbery 
 and violence continuously going on in London, as 
 indeed may be said of all great cities ; that people 
 disappeared, or were found in the Thames, with 
 much reason to believe that they had come to their 
 end unfairly. She had heard that the missing man 
 lived in the Temple, she did not know where the 
 Temple was, and had a somewhat hazy knowledge 
 
THE ROYAL HIPPODROME. 63 
 
 of its locality, derived principally from "The 
 Fortunes of Nigel," and she recollected that in 
 Scott's famous novel the Temple was described as 
 next door to Alsatia, and in that latter district 
 according to the romancer law was lax, and drink 
 was plentiful, a combination which usually results 
 in crime. Could it be possible that in making his 
 way back to his rooms, Keginald Chacewater had 
 come to an untimely end ? And then again her 
 conscience pricked her, and she wondered whether 
 she would be doing harm by her reticence. In the 
 meantime, she would get her hat and go for a walk. 
 She could think better in the open air than in that 
 stuffy little sitting-room. 
 
 Mi;S Darley was not an experienced Londoner, 
 and in attempting a short cut she, as one is very 
 apt to do, missed her way, and found herself in a 
 very respectable street with which she was unac- 
 quainted. She glanced right and left, seeking for 
 some landmark that might give a clue to the 
 repairing of her mistake, when almost uncon- 
 sciously her eye fell upon a brass plate upon which 
 was engraved the name Dr. Cotton. A few steps 
 further, and a series of gaily-coloured posters 
 proclaimed that she was in front of a building 
 dedicated to the drama in some form. Kate paused 
 to read the bills, and discovered that the form 
 the drama took in this particular instance, was 
 " horses," in fact, she was outside the circus in 
 Argyle Street. At this moment a small door 
 suddenly opened, and two or three men rushed out. 
 
64 A KACING RUBBER. 
 
 " Here, William ! " exclaimed the foremost, " run 
 for a doctor, quick. Fetch the nearest, there's one 
 lives just up the street. I told you the horse hadn't 
 got that last trick properly yet, but she would stop 
 and try it. Deuced unlucky, all the other women 
 gone home too." 
 
 But William was a man of slow perceptions, and 
 before he started on his errand, required more 
 definite instructions as to the whereabouts of the 
 doctor he was desired to fetch. This was sufficient for 
 Kate, who was one of those self-reliant young 
 persons who would sooner do a thing for herself 
 than feebly invoke assistance. She glanced for one 
 moment at William's bewildered face, and then, 
 swiftly retracing her steps, rang Dr. Cotton's door- 
 bell. She found him at home, and upon hearing 
 that it was an accident at the Hippodrome, he at 
 once accompanied her back to the theatre. Now 
 whether it was that singular curiosity which makes 
 most of us wish in our younger days to go behind 
 the scenes or whether Kate honestly thought she 
 might render other help, I don't know, but she 
 pushed forward with the doctor. She had hurriedly 
 told him that the accident had happened to one of 
 the ladies of the company, and Dr. Cotton not un- 
 naturally regarded Miss Darley as also an actress be- 
 longing to the troupe, and said as he pushed his way in, 
 " I shall want you, mind you keep cool and don't get 
 flurried." And so Miss Darley passed the jealously- 
 guarded portals of the stage-door without challenge. 
 As for Mr. Slater, the proprietor, he knew from 
 
THE ROYAL HIPPODROME. 63 
 
 experience, that when one of his young ladies came 
 to grief as he expressed it, to call another young 
 lady and a doctor to her assistance was the first 
 thing to be done, and as all the females of the 
 company had left the theatre after rehearsal, 
 with the exception of the unfortunate victim, he 
 was only too glad now to welcome a woman, let her 
 come from where she would. After traversing 
 sundry dark passages, impregnated with a strong 
 smell of the stable, Kate found herself not only in 
 a theatre for the first time in her life, but actually 
 on the stage, so to speak. The doctor made his 
 way at once to a little group in the centre of the 
 ring. It was not the first time that he had been 
 called in there under similar circumstances. The 
 sufferer was lying propped up with horse-rugs, 
 pretty nearly where she had fallen. She was a 
 rather pretty-looking young woman, although her 
 face was now contracted from pain. She shrank a 
 little as the doctor enquired into her hurts, and, 
 with Kate's assistance, made his brief examination. 
 " I am afraid I have not been able to help paining 
 you," he said gently when he had finished, " and I 
 am afraid you are doomed to suffer a good bit yet 
 for the next two or three days, but you may comfort 
 yourself that it's nothing very serious — you have 
 sprained your leg very badly, but when we've once 
 got the inflammation down, you will be quite comfort- 
 able, though I am afraid there are some few weeks 
 on a sofa before you; you can't hurry a bad sprain, 
 and it's always a tedious business. And now, Mr. 
 
 5 
 
66 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 Slater," he continued, turning to the proprietor, 
 " we must get this young lady home as quickly as 
 we can. I will send you an ambulance over from 
 the station, for she can't bear the jolting of a cab. 
 Just let her lie where she is till it comes," and then 
 the doctor was bustling away to fetch the required 
 help, when Mr. Slater stopped him. 
 
 " You are quite sure, poor thing, it is nothing 
 serious ? " he said. 
 
 The doctor nodded in the affirmative. 
 
 " I suppose," continued the manager, " it will be 
 some weeks before she can ride again ? " 
 
 " At least six," replied the doctor. " But, Lord, 
 it might be twelve, there's no accounting for 
 sprains." 
 
 " It's a great pity, poor girl, both for her and for 
 me. She is a great attraction, but if that's the 
 case, I suppose she had better get out of Town as 
 soon as she is well enough. It is no use her sticking 
 to the show if she can't take part in it. She is a 
 good girl and a plucky one, but I've always told her 
 she is a bit too venturesome. Horses, Doc', you 
 see, are just like children, if you keep them too long 
 at their lessons they tire. She will bring them on 
 too fast, and that's what's the matter to-day." 
 
 The ambulance came in due course, and Minnie 
 Price (she was Josephine Vavasour in the bills) was 
 moved to her own home under the superintendance 
 of Dr. Cotton and Miss Darley. For the time being 
 the incident had driven all recollection of Eeginald 
 Chacewater and the strange advertisement out of 
 
THE EOYAL HIPPODKOME. 07 
 
 Kate's head, and the adventure was destined to have 
 a singular effect upon the girl's future career. 
 Minnie Price fully deserved Mr. Slater's encomium. 
 She was a good, hard-working girl, and had, like all 
 her people, been brought up among "the horses." 
 They had all in some capacity or another been 
 engaged in the circus business as soon as able to do . 
 anything for themselves, but none of them had 
 perhaps, as yet, made such a mark as the unfortu- 
 nate sufferer. She had combined good looks, 
 wonderful nerve, with an exceptional aptitude for 
 her profession. Miss Vavasour had honestly ob- 
 tained her position as a star rider. She lived with 
 her mother, who was slightly crippled, the result oi 
 a bad accident some few years ago in the Ring, since 
 which Minnie's earnings had sufficed for their needs. 
 Miss Darley had nothing to do just now, and was 
 naturally energetic, and so it came to pass that she 
 was a constant visitor to the sick girl, and indeed 
 took a considerable share in the nursing of her. 
 The pair rapidly became great friends, and this led 
 to Kate becoming an intermediary between Minnie 
 and the theatre. Minnie naturally desired to hear 
 news of her old companions there, while Mr. 
 Slater was genuinely anxious to hear how his 
 leading lady was progressing. Although un- 
 doubtedly desirous of having her once more in the 
 saddle, Mr. Slater was honestly interested in the 
 girl's recovery on her own account. He was a kind- 
 hearted man, and, if a little sharp-tempered with 
 his troupe at times when things were not going 
 
 5* 
 
68 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 satisfactorily, was a good friend to them in the 
 main. 
 
 Now all this had a peculiar fascination for Kate. 
 She had always been fond of horses, and now she 
 was being thoroughly initiated into all the minutiae 
 of circus life. She was present at their rehearsals, 
 and in a very short time knew her way about the 
 stables as well as any of them. She certainly 
 couldn't stand on a horse's back, or skip through a 
 paper hoop, but before three weeks were over there 
 wasn't a nag in the Hippodrome that she hadn't 
 sent over the bar, and as Mr. Slater enthusiastically 
 said, " In six months Miss Darley, if she gave her 
 mind to it, would play Turpin and his ride to York 
 with the best of them." Miss Darley herself in the 
 meantime had rather forgotten that necessity she 
 was under, of doing something for her own living. 
 She was living frugally and economically it was 
 true, but all this time her little capital was wasting, 
 and she was neither earning a shilling, nor had she 
 arrived at the slightest idea how to set about it. 
 To the circus people she was a mystery. How came 
 this pretty, lady-like girl to have her life so com- 
 pletely at her own disposal? No friend ever 
 accompanied her to the theatre, and though she was 
 courteous and on good terms with all of them, yet 
 there was a something about her which seemed to 
 mark her out as of a class superior to their own. 
 We know that she was not so in reality, but the 
 last two years or so of her life had wrought a 
 wondrous change in Kate Darley. Now that chance 
 
THE ROYAL HIPPODROME. 69 
 
 remark of Mr. Slater's about her being able to do 
 Turpin's ride to York in six months, although she 
 had only laughed at it at the time, recurred to 
 Kate's mind, when she next took the question of 
 ways and means into consideration. She must do 
 something for a living, why should she not try if Mr. 
 Slater would give her an engagement ? It was work 
 that interested her, she knew all the people, and 
 though of course she had everything to learn, she 
 felt sure that it was a skill that she would both 
 willingly and speedily acquire. She was already 
 great friends with Minnie Price, and she deter- 
 mined to make a confidante of her, and take her 
 opinion upon the matter. Minnie, who had con- 
 ceived an enthusiastic affection for Miss Darley was 
 delighted at the idea. No fear that the day might 
 come when she would find Kate a dangerous rival in 
 her own theatre, occurred to the girl for a moment. 
 It had taken her years to acquire her own knowledge 
 of her art, and she knew that let Kate be as clever 
 as she might, it must be some time before she 
 could even master the ordinary mechanism of the 
 profession. To merely sit on a bare-backed horse 
 cantering round the King, is not so easy a thing as it 
 looks. 
 
 Miss Darley had always been an object of great 
 curiosity to Mr. Slater, but when the day following 
 her discussion with Minnie she made this proposal 
 to him, he was, in nautical language, taken fairly 
 aback. He had honestly thought what he had said 
 only in jest, that the girl really had all the makings 
 
70 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 of an artist in the profession, but as for taking her 
 as a pupil, that was a thing it behoved him to turn 
 well over in his mind. " Who is she and what is 
 she ? " he muttered to himself. " She's a cut above 
 us anyhow, and I'm blest if I shan't get into a 
 scrape if I don't look out. Be shopped for ab- 
 ducting a ward in Chancery, or something of that 
 sort. Then again, she is a very nice young woman 
 no doubt, but who does she think is going to pay 
 for her lessons, because, though no doubt she will 
 pay for training, she won't bring a cent to the 
 treasury for a good while ; no, she must be bound in 
 the regular way, and if she's not such a fool as to 
 let out she ain't twenty one, well I'll chance it." 
 And the result of all this diplomacy on both sides 
 was that in two or three days Miss Darley had bound 
 herself apprentice to Mr. Slater for three years at 
 a very moderate salary, he, on his side covenanting 
 to initiate her into the art and mysteries of " horse 
 riding." Mr. Slater on his part carefully abstained 
 from asking all unnecessary questions, while Kate 
 on her side had no desire to make indiscreet or 
 uncalled-for confidences. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 "children of the sawdust." 
 
 The advertisement that had attracted Kate's atten- 
 tion was, as she saw, continued in all the London 
 papers every day for a week. They were rife, too, 
 in conjectures as to what had become of the missing 
 
CHILDEEN OF THE SAWDUST. 71 
 
 man, and those speculations varied according to the 
 ingenuity of the writer, but on one point they were 
 unanimous, that no trace whatever had been found 
 as yet of Keginald Chacewater, nor could any 
 reason be assigned for his mysterious disappearance. 
 That he had met his death by the terrible casualty in 
 the Regent's Park was now pretty generally scouted, 
 but a strong impression had grown up that he had met 
 a violent death in some of the lower dens of London. 
 Even the Squire, who had so sturdily refused to 
 believe that his son was no more, was becoming 
 shaken in his unbelief. But there was one man 
 firmly convinced that Reginald was alive and who 
 had solemnly vowed to discover him. Tom Bramber 
 had never wavered for a moment in his view of the 
 case. He was sure that Reginald had run away 
 with Kate Darley, and untiring in his efforts to find 
 them, but further than his steadfast belief, he was 
 no more advanced than other people. Still this 
 prevented him from relaxing in his endeavours ; he 
 would find them, and then — well, what then ? He 
 did not know, it would depend very much upon 
 circumstances, but if Reginald had wronged the 
 girl, he was determined to avenge her. How — well, 
 he did not exactly know how, but Tom had a fixed 
 idea, and let a resolute man only determine to be 
 what he called "upsides" with another, and the 
 means will be sure to come to his hand. 
 
 Reginald indeed, although he had acted on a 
 sudden impulse, had been far more successful in 
 effacing himself than an astute criminal, acting 
 
72 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 with the most elaborate preparations, would probably 
 have been. The only thing was that now he had 
 achieved his aim, he was beginning to think it 
 somewhat of a mistake. To prevent all risk of 
 recognition, he had been compelled to select for his 
 retreat a place where he was thoroughly unknown. 
 He had taken refuge in the first instance in quiet 
 country quarters, but he was speedily convinced 
 that, if he wished to escape notice, a quiet country 
 village was the last place to reside in. The simple 
 fact that you are a stranger at once provokes violent 
 curiosity to know who you are and what you are 
 doing there, so he rapidly fled from that to Chilling- 
 ham, where he believed himself perfectly unknown, 
 but even in the biggest of towns it behoves you to 
 take some precautions if you wish to live from your 
 fellows a life apart. For instance, it is prudent to 
 avoid all places of amusement, and this in itself 
 makes existence somewhat monotonous to a young 
 man of five-and- twenty, accustomed to indulge 
 freely in such amusements as came to him ; in short, 
 Reginald soon found the isolation to which keeping 
 up the part of being deceased condemned him, 
 was getting dull, intolerably dull. He had awoke 
 to the fact that absconding from one's creditors has 
 its inconveniences, and began to speculate whether 
 the seclusion of gaol was not preferable to the 
 isolation necessary to keep out of it. Now when a 
 man arrives at the conclusion that he has made a 
 fool of himself, the best thing generally is if possible 
 to retrace his steps. There was no difficulty about 
 
CHILDREN OF THE SAWDUST. 73 
 
 that in his case, he had merely to go back and face 
 the danger from which he had run away, but one 
 thing deterred him, and that was ridicule, the fear 
 of which compels many of us to persevere in our 
 wrong courses. His was a very indulgent father in 
 the main, but there are limits, and though there is 
 of course the record of the Prodigal Son, still he 
 did not reappear for some years, and then did not 
 bring a hungry pack of creditors at his heels. The 
 killing of the fatted calf was a mild disbursement 
 comparatively, to the satisfying of these latter. 
 Then again, before resuming his place in this 
 world, Eeginald had vowed to distinguish himself, 
 and to do that must of necessity be a matter of some 
 time. No, if he had made a mistake, he would 
 abide by it ; the best thing to break the monotony 
 of life is hard work, now was the time to write that 
 play or romance which was to astonish the world. 
 And so, having taken unto himself modest lodgings 
 in that inland watering-place, wherein he had 
 established himself, Eeginald Chacewater sat 
 doggedly down to his self-imposed task. 
 
 Mr. Slater was a circus manager on a colossal 
 scale. He had not only the " Show in London," as 
 he termed it, but one or two others travelling in 
 the provinces as well, and the attractions of all 
 these were exchanged as often as it was deemed 
 the public required fresh stimulants. In the 
 summer and autumn, these varied companies moved 
 about pretty continually, but during the winter and 
 early spring, Mr. Slater selected some large town 
 
74 A RACING RUBBER, 
 
 where lie thought the public not only wanted amuse- 
 ment, but were ready to pay for it; and just now, 
 one of his companies was stationed at Chillingham. 
 Mr. Slater was a good-natured man, and not only 
 kindly, but often liberal to his numberless dependents, 
 many of whom, as he well knew, worked hard at a not 
 very remunerative profession, and no sooner did he 
 gather from Dr. Cotton that Minnie Price was not 
 only well enough to be moved, but would be all the 
 better for being taken away from the rigours of a 
 London spring, than he proposed that she should 
 go down to Chillingham, where one division of his 
 army was at present quartered, and he called upon 
 the sick girl, and made his proposition to her: 
 
 " You see, my dear, you are doing no good in the 
 fog and east wind here, the doctor says. Now, 
 Chillingham is a nice mild place compared to this, 
 you get the best of fresh air, hear the birds sing 
 and all that sort of thing. If you and Miss 
 Darell like to go down there together " (Parell was 
 Kate's assumed name), " she can be getting on 
 with her riding there, and the change will do 
 you good. They will be able to give more time 
 to Miss Darell than we can here, and then when you 
 are well enough, you can give the Chillingham 
 people a turn before you come back. They want a 
 novelty, the blessed public is death on novelties, and 
 as there is no getting their dollars without, well 
 novelties they must have." 
 
 So a few days later, Katie and her friend moved 
 down to Chillingham. If Kate had found there 
 
CHILDREN OF THE SAWDUST. 75 
 
 was even more to learn in this new profession she 
 had adopted than she had expected, she was not in 
 the least discouraged at the result of the few lessons 
 she had had. She was used to horses, fond of them, 
 and she had plenty of nerve. She could see no 
 reason why she should not succeed, she had deter- 
 mined not to return home, and though she had 
 been very happy at Chacewater Grange, she had 
 great doubts about her getting on as an instructress 
 in another situation. That had been a rather 
 exceptional place. She was attached to the people 
 and they to her, and she knew that it would be absurd 
 to expect the same liberty would be conceded to her 
 elsewhere as she had enjoyed at the Grange. She was 
 a strong-willed girl, and on the whole quite satisfied 
 with the determination she had come to, a great 
 deal better indeed than Eeginald Chacewater, work- 
 ing away in his solitary lodgings, and little thinking 
 that one to whom he was perfectly well known, was 
 living within a few hundred yards of him, and that 
 he ran the chance of recognition every time he 
 crossed the step of his own door. That they should 
 eventually meet was almost inevitable, but it was 
 precipitated by Eeginald's impatience of his own 
 isolation. He could stand it no longer ; to exchange 
 ideas with somebody had become a necessity, and 
 one morning while gazing idly at the posters in front 
 of the gates of the public gardens that contained 
 the circus, he drifted imperceptibly into conver- 
 sation with two or three of the employes who were 
 lounging there. That he should ask questions 
 
76 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 concerning their occupation was natural, which 
 ended by one chatty young fellow asking if he 
 should like to see the horses. Eeginald, only too 
 glad to snatch at any distraction, jumped at the 
 offer, and in a few minutes he found himself inside. 
 After walking through the stables, his companion 
 led him in to the body of the house. In the ring 
 were some half-dozen performers rehearsing, and in 
 his eagerness to watch them at their practice, 
 Eeginald pushed close to the ring side. One girl, 
 who was evidently learning to stand upon a bare- 
 backed steed as he cantered round the circle, 
 especially attracted his attention. Not for one 
 instant did he recognise her, for the place was too 
 dimly lighted almost for that, but he was interested 
 in her proceedings ; he had hitherto only seen the 
 members of the profession in all their glories, glitter- 
 ing in spangles, beneath the glare of gas, he had 
 never seen them at their studies, and the girl at whom 
 he was looking was evidently a neophyte. Every 
 second or third round of the ring, she came off, not 
 an awkward tumble, but lightly on her feet and 
 laughing, though, at the same time, making an 
 impatient remark to one of her companions. At 
 last to save a fall she had to jump off close to where 
 Eeginald was standing, and as her eye caught his, 
 she could not refrain from a slight start, for though 
 Eeginald Chacewater had failed to recognise her, 
 Kate Darley had recognised him. 
 
 Turning away, Kate hurried after her horse, 
 brought her lesson to an abrupt termination and 
 
CHILDKEN OF THE SAWDUST. 77 
 
 quickly left the ring. She felt pretty sure that 
 Eeginald had not recollected her, but thought that 
 in a stronger light and with more time in which to 
 study her features the chances were that her face 
 would recall itself to his memory. Now she was 
 not at all sure that she wished this. Once more, to 
 commence with, would arise the question whether 
 she was not in duty bound to let his family know 
 that he was alive, and that would probably involve 
 the discovery of her own whereabouts. Then again, 
 it was evident to her that Eeginald had reasons of 
 his own for acquiescing in the rumour of his death, 
 and so disappearing from his home, as she herself 
 had ; he had saved her life and it savoured of great 
 ingratitude to betray him to all those whom he was 
 apparently anxious to avoid. What his motives 
 might be she could not conjecture, but it was clear 
 that his incognito was of deliberate intention. She 
 would keep his secret, and even should he at last dis- 
 cover she was the companion of his escape that after- 
 noon in the Eegent's Park — well, after all he had not 
 known who she was, and was no more likely to 
 recognise her now than then. But from that out, 
 Mr. Chacewater took to frequenting the circus and 
 dropped in constantly at " morning lessons." 
 
 For a few days Kate kept pretty well out of his 
 way, but recognition came at last, and Eeginald 
 discovered that the girl he had saved from drowning 
 at the sudden break-up of the ice was Miss Darell 
 of Slater's Circus, but further than that, his know- 
 ledge of her did not extend. 
 
78 A RACING RUBBER, 
 
 " You may paint with a very big brush," quoth 
 Carlyle, " and yet not be a very big painter," and in 
 like manner you may write a very big romance and 
 starve while you are doing it. Oliver Goldsmith 
 was a notable instance, by-the-way, of this latter. 
 Reginald Chacewater, although sanguine about the 
 ultimate success of the literary work he was now 
 engaged in, as it is good that all 'prentices of the 
 Guild should be, was not so foolish as not to know 
 that a man's work is not always estimated at his 
 own valuation ; and even supposing that success 
 should crown his efforts, he was quite aware that 
 success in the career of literature by no means meant 
 money in the first instance. He had to live, and 
 though he had brought away a considerable sum of 
 ready money at first, yet it was slowly melting 
 away. And to procure more would necessitate 
 his avowing that he was still in the land of the 
 living. As we know, his pride as yet forbade him 
 to do that, but a question that began to obtrude 
 itself, although as yet not pressingly, was what 
 employment he could procure that would bring 
 him in sufficient money for his wants, and that was 
 a recurring reflection which grew continally vaguer 
 and less satisfactory. He saw Miss Darell and her 
 companions pretty well every day, but neither Kate 
 nor he ever made the slightest reference to their 
 past. There might have been no such places as 
 Chacewater Grange or Bottlesby Parish for all 
 rllusion they ever made to them, and yet they were 
 on very good terms, and saw a good deal of each other. 
 
CHILDKEN OF THE SAWDUST. 79 
 
 Though friendly with many of the ladies of the 
 troupe, it was only natural that Reginald should talk 
 more to Kate than the others. She was far more 
 refined than her companions, who, good-hearted 
 and good-looking girls though some of them were, 
 were not exactly lady-like in their ways or speech. 
 But it must not be thought that there was, at 
 all events at present, any tender feeling between 
 them. Kate looked at him with admiration as it 
 was only natural she should at the heir to Chace- 
 water Grange, the future lord of the soil of which 
 her father was a cultivator. Then that he was good- 
 looking and, as she firmly believed, the saviour of her 
 life was not likely to lessen her feeling for him in 
 that way, but they were not at all in love with each 
 other, as anybody who noticed the frank intercourse 
 between them would have at once determined. 
 Reginald thought her a very pretty girl, and often 
 wondered how one of her superior education and 
 training had come to adopt such a profession, but he 
 made no attempt to pry into Miss Darell's past, 
 while Kate had no curiosity to gratify concerning 
 his, as she already knew it. Reginald could not 
 help contrasting Kate's quiet abstinence on this 
 point compared with some of her sister artistes, who 
 were not a little inquisitive to know how one whom 
 they saw at once was a gentleman, came to be mixed 
 up with them. 
 
60 A EACING RUBBER. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 "SAM WARGRAVE." 
 
 Not very far from Chacewater Grange lived Samuel 
 Wargrave, Esq., a man who had recently bought a 
 house and estate in the county, which, to use the 
 old term, marched with that of the Chace waters. 
 Sam Wargrave, as the friends of his youth still 
 called him, although amongst his acquaintance of the 
 present day he would highly have resented such 
 familiarity, was an extremely pompous, pushing, 
 arrogant gentleman, who, beginning from nothing, 
 had in divers ways contrived to amass a large sum 
 of money. If people asked what Mr. Wargrave had 
 been, his intimates would probably retort that " they 
 would like to know what he hadn't been." He was 
 a man who had dabbled in everything by which he 
 thought money could be made, and, let it be what it 
 might, his dabbling had usually turned out success- 
 ful. He had done a little on the Stock Exchange, 
 he had done a little on the Turf. He had specu- 
 lated in a wholesale way in goods of all descriptions, 
 from silks and satins to jams and calicoes, nothing 
 came amiss to him. He was always going for " a 
 corner in something," and, whatever the " corner " 
 might be to other people, it generally proved 
 profitable to him. Like many self-made men 
 
SAM WARGKAVE. 81 
 
 wealth had produced a craving for improved social 
 position, and land and a country house he conceived 
 gave stability quicker than anything. 
 
 " Your real swells," said Mr. Wargrave, " always 
 have their box in the country, as well as their town 
 house, though may be they can't afford to live in it.' 
 It may have been terrible times he argued foi 
 landed proprietors of late years, " but at its present 
 price, land is a very tidy investment." And so it 
 came about that Mr. Wargrave finding Carlingham 
 Park in the market had purchased it some three or 
 four years before. Mr. Wargrave's family consisted 
 of his wife, a son, and a daughter, all strongly 
 imbued with his own views. The bluest-blooded 
 lady in the land could not have stood upon her 
 dignity more determinedly than Mrs. Wargrave. 
 She had society gossip at her fingers' ends and 
 talked of Duchesses and fashionable people as 
 familiarly as if they were her intimate acquaintance. 
 As for Mr. Horace Wargrave, the heir apparent of 
 Carlingham, when he attained a commission in a 
 Dragoon regiment he gave himself such intolerable 
 airs, that it was speedily resolved that the " side 
 must be taken out of him," and when a regiment has 
 come to that conclusion they generally contrive to 
 inflict a very salutary lesson upon the offender. 
 Military discipline in short had licked Lieutenant 
 Wargrave into a bearable shape. 
 
 As for Miss Wargrave, she was her father's own 
 daughter. A tall, fair-haired, good-looking girl, 
 who carried her head high and with exalted views 
 
 6 
 
82 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 of her own pretensions and future. She was far 
 too shrewd to overlook her father's and mother's 
 vulgarity, and not to see that the position she 
 wished to attain must come to her by marriage. 
 A young lady best described by the line in the 
 comic opera, " Of the highly-exclusive, top-towery 
 sort." The man she married must be either county 
 or titled, and having no false delicacy on this 
 subject, she had already selected Reginald Chace- 
 water as an eligible candidate for her fair hand. 
 Although there never was a girl less likely to let 
 her heart dictate to her head, still Clara Wargrave 
 had a strong prepossession in Reginald's favour. 
 And though his intentions had, so far, never been 
 of such sort as she could construe into those of a 
 lover, yet he had been fairly attentive, and had 
 usually accepted all invitations to Carlingham Park. 
 
 She was not the least bit in love with him, but 
 she liked him, and had thought it would be a good 
 and advantageous thing for both that they should 
 be married. 
 
 The Chacewaters were a good old county family, 
 and had been settled in Wiltshire for centuries, 
 while the eighty thousand pounds she would bring 
 her husband would enable them once more to 
 resume their proper place in the county. 
 
 Mrs. Chacewater had entertained similar views, 
 and was always particularly civil and courteous to 
 Clara Wargrave. She was not blind to the purse- 
 proud vulgarity of the parents, but always contended 
 that there was nothing wrong with the girl. 
 
SAM WAKGRAVE. 83 
 
 " She is a good-looking, lady-like young woman," 
 she would say to her husband, "and if it so happens 
 she and Eeginald could fancy each other, it would 
 do very nicely. Reggie ought to marry money, 
 but he is just at that age when young men do what 
 they ought not to do in these matters. I should 
 be very glad if it was settled." To which the 
 Squire made answer : 
 
 " That old War grave was a confounded cad, and 
 he verily believed didn't know one end of a gun 
 from another, but that money was certainly scarce, 
 and the girl herself was well enough." 
 
 But whatever Mrs. Chacewater might wish, she 
 felt there was an end to all this now. She did not, 
 as we know, believe that her son was dead, but she 
 did believe that he had levanted, and that Kate 
 Darley was the companion of his flight. She had 
 kept her own counsel, and confided her suspicions 
 to no one, but this would destroy all prospect of 
 her hopes being realised as effectually as if Reginald 
 had perished beneath the ice. But though she had 
 come to this conclusion, though she might be 
 doomed to disappointment with regard to this 
 marriage, she yearned to know that her only son 
 was not dead, that in course of time she should see 
 him once more. And the way to ascertain this 
 she had made up her mind was to discover Kate 
 Darley. It was easy for her to set enquiries afloat 
 in that direction ; the girl had lived in her house- 
 hold, been the favourite companion of her daughter, 
 and it was but natural that she should take much 
 
 6* 
 
84 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 interest in her welfare, and feel both grieved and 
 alarmed at her sudden disappearance in the great 
 London whirlpool. But no results came of her 
 researches, any more than they did of the fierce 
 and untiring pursuit of Keginald by Tom Bramber. 
 Nothing is more sure nor singular than after the 
 loss of dear friends or relations, the first great gust 
 of grief over, the way we inevitably drop back into 
 our old habits and customs. The first sorrow for 
 our dead past, our duties in this world fortunately 
 compel us to once more exert ourselves and leave 
 us no time to sit eating our hearts out. It is not 
 that those that are gone don't linger sadly in our 
 memories, but we who are left have our lives yet to 
 live. Despite that lingering belief that Reginald 
 was still alive, he was none the less sincerely 
 mourned for at the Grange, and more than once 
 the Squire and his wife felt that the uncertainty 
 concerning him was even more painful than the 
 positive knowledge that he was no more. At the 
 end of two or three weeks Mr. Chacewater had 
 resumed his usual avocations, was pottering about 
 his fields on his favourite cob, and gossiping with 
 his neighbours and tenants. An especial favourite 
 at the Grange was the Rev. James Marton, the 
 Rector of Bottlesby, a hale, active, country clergy- 
 man of the old-fashioned sort, who, though doing 
 his duty, and thoroughly liked and respected in his 
 parish, was a sportsman to boot. Mr. Marton did 
 not hunt himself, but he saw no harm in sometimes 
 going to see the hounds throw off, and all through 
 
SAM WARGRAVE. 85 
 
 the season seemed very accurately informed as to 
 their doings. A good, steady shot, and throwing a 
 very decent fly, Mr. Mart on passed a healthy and 
 cheerful life with much satisfaction to himself and 
 his flock. If the service at Bottlesby was devoid 
 of choristers, and was what in these days would be 
 denominated of primitive fashion, yet the Hector 
 could preach a stirring sermon, and few men in a 
 pulpit could more thoroughly hold the attention of 
 his auditors than the Kev. James Marton. Besides, 
 all Bottlesby knew that in time of real sickness or 
 distress, they could always count upon genuine and 
 substantial assistance from the Kectory, as well as 
 advice. 
 
 Now, though no frequenter of race-courses, it 
 may be easily supposed that a man like the Eector 
 took an interest in the prominent events of the 
 Turf, as did the Squire, and when the two met, such 
 matters as the Derby were wont to be touched upon 
 in the course of their conversation. The supposed 
 loss of his son had caused Mr. Chacewater of late 
 to hold aloof from society, and so, when he en- 
 countered the Eector, one bright May morning, he 
 hailed him with avidity as one laden with all the 
 freshest gossip of the neighbourhood, a matter in 
 which he felt himself woefully behindhand. Very 
 pleasant indeed was the chat between the two old 
 friends ; how the price of stock had ruled in the 
 neighbouring markets, how the spring corn was 
 looking, how that recalcitrant old Darley was going 
 on, and whether any tidings had been heard of 
 
86 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 pretty Kate, were all matters upon which the Kector 
 had much to say, and the Squire to hear. Then 
 came what was going on in the neighbourhood, and 
 amongst other gatherings the Rector mentioned 
 that he had dined two or three nights before at 
 Carlingham Park. 
 
 "A pleasant party, no doubt," said Mr. Chace- 
 water. " I can't say Wargrave is a man I can quite 
 cotton to, but, to do him justice, he always gives 
 you a good dinner, and his wine is of the best." 
 
 " No," replied Mr. Marton, " he is a little 
 boisterous in his manner and rather vulgarly proud 
 of his wealth, but he gives you of his best, and 
 is a liberal enough man if you ask him for his 
 assistance about anything." 
 
 " Yes, unlike so many men who have made 
 money, he is free-handed, though what made him 
 settle in the country I can't imagine ; anyone less 
 given to country pursuits couldn't be." 
 
 " I think we've done him some slight injustice," 
 replied the Rector, "one can't call him a sports- 
 man, because he don't shoot and he don't hunt, 
 but he showed the other night much interest in and 
 knowledge of the Turf." 
 
 " I should never have suspected him of that,' 
 said the Squire sententiously. 
 
 " Nor I," replied Mr. Marton, " but after dinner 
 the conversation got, as it always does at this time 
 of the year, on the Derby, and there, to my amaze- 
 ment, Mr. Wargrave proved very much at home. 
 There was nobody there who had the performances 
 
SAM WARGRAVE. 87 
 
 of the competitors so thoroughly at his fingers' ends, 
 nor who made such shrewd comments upon them," 
 
 " Ah ! that must have been interesting," rejoined 
 the Squire. " And what does Wargrave think of our 
 horse ? I mean that horse that is entered in young 
 Bramber's name, * King of the Huns ' ? " 
 
 " Well, to my astonishment, Mr. Wargrave 
 seemed to have a very poor opinion of it ; he 
 admitted he was a very fine-looking colt, and that 
 he won the Biennial in a canter, but wound up with 
 the remarkable dictum, ' "The King" is a nice colt, 
 but he'll win no Derby.' Well, I ventured to 
 observe, * but, Mr. Wargrave, if " King of the Huns " 
 will not win, perhaps you can tell us what will ? ' 
 
 " < Yes, Mr. Marton,' he replied, « " Chorister " will 
 win the Derby this year.' " 
 
 "Why!" exclaimed the Squire, "'King of the 
 Huns ' beat ' Chorister ' far enough in the Biennial. 
 What on earth is to prevent his beating him again 
 at Epsom ? " 
 
 " Just what I said," rejoined the Eector, " but 
 Mr. Wargrave looked at me with a smile, as if 
 compassionating my innocence, and replied, 
 * " Chorister," sir, you will find will win the Derby. 
 As for " King of the Huns," I don't expect to see 
 him in the first three.' 
 
 " ' But if he beat " Chorister " at Newmarket, why 
 shouldn't he beat him at Epsom ? ' I asked. 
 
 " \ Because if I know anything about horse- 
 racing,' was the reply, ■ the money will stop 
 him.'" 
 
88 A EACING RUBBER. 
 
 Now the Eector and Mr. Chacewater knew, like 
 all men of the world, that racing was not always 
 conducted honestly. There are unscrupulous 
 people on the Turf who do not play fair, as indeed 
 there are in every vocation by which money can be 
 made. There is cheating at cards as well as cheat- 
 ing in the selling of tea and sugar. Coals do not 
 always weigh what they are represented to. The 
 probity of the Stock Exchange is sometimes ques- 
 tioned, and it has been asserted that in the matter 
 of warranting a horse, a Bishop is no more to be 
 trusted than other people. But it was perhaps the 
 first time that either of them had been warned of 
 the unfair play beforehand. They also knew that 
 men who lose their money over racing from a horse 
 not running up to his usual standard are too prone 
 in their disappointment to proclaim the whole affair 
 a robbery upon no grounds whatever. It is not 
 regular racing men who express these feelings as a 
 rule. They know that you might as well accuse a 
 crack cricketer, who habitually made large scores, 
 of playing unfairly, because on some occasion he 
 did not trouble the scorer. But upon this occasion 
 they were warned by a man who seemed to know 
 what he was talking about ; that this thing would 
 happen, and that a horse who, to their knowledge, 
 was thoroughly well, would not win a race which 
 those connected with him most certainly expected 
 that he would do. Now Mr. Wargrave, in their 
 eyes, was certainly no sportsman, but he might 
 know a good deal about racing for all that ; he had 
 
SAM WARGRAVE. 89 
 
 the character of being a shrewd, clear-headed man, 
 and though they had undoubtedly no knowledge of 
 his family tree, they had always understood that 
 his money was of his own making, and that he had 
 nobody but himself to thank for it. There was 
 considerable debate between them as to not only 
 what they ought to do, but what they could do 
 under these circumstances. They both agreed that 
 to ask Mr. Wargrave what he either knew or 
 suspected would be useless. He would probably 
 take refuge in generalities, and say, " Oh, nothing 
 more than that so much money had been laid 
 against 'King of the Huns,' that he thought it 
 improbable he would win." And it was quite 
 possible that he had been speaking thus vaguely 
 when he made the remark. He was a man given 
 to expressing his opinion in pompous and positive 
 fashion. Still, in such small business matters as 
 had fallen within their knowledge, Mr. Wargrave 
 had been generally clear-headed enough. 
 
 After considerable discussion they came to the 
 conclusion that all they could do was to warn Tom 
 Bramber that they had good reason to believe there 
 was a conspiracy to interfere with "King of the 
 Huns " for the Derby ; that in what form this 
 villainy would be perpetrated they were unable to 
 say, and could only recommend him to take every 
 precaution against the horse meeting with foul 
 play either in the stable or on the race-course. 
 
90 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " A FALL IN THE BAROMETER." 
 
 If the Rector of Bottlesby held Mr. Wargrave and 
 his family in no great esteem, his daughter Lucy 
 had a considerably more pronounced opinion regard- 
 ing them. The residents of a thinly scattered 
 country neighbourhood have to take Society as it 
 comes or there would be no Society. New comers 
 may not always be to your liking, but they have 
 to be accepted. The circle is too thin to be very 
 exclusive, and when the new settlers are backed by 
 a long purse, their reception naturally becomes 
 warmer in a ratio equal to their capabilities of 
 entertaining. Owners of big domains and lordly 
 mansions can be content to pretty well limit their 
 entertaining to their own houses, but the minor 
 gentry of the country must mix with one another. 
 Lucy Marton was far too sensible a girl not to 
 understand this, and never suggested to her father 
 that they should not know the Carlingham family 
 because she herself could not bear them. She was 
 not blind to their pompous arrogance, but she 
 would have declared that the thing that irritated 
 her most was the offensive air of patronage as- 
 sumed by one and all of them. Mr. Samuel War- 
 grave, in his new role of wealthy landowner, would 
 
A FALL IN THE BAROMETER. 91 
 
 have said no doubt that it was the duty of men in 
 his position to be upon friendly terms with the 
 country clergy, to ask them to dinner, etc., but in 
 reality he took credit to himself that he conde- 
 scended to do so, and never allowed himself to 
 reflect that these men were probably at the Uni- 
 versities when he was sweeping out the shop or 
 office from which his prosperous career began. All 
 honour to the wealth that comes from honest 
 industry, but some of Sam Wargrave's early 
 associates would have laughed and replied, " There 
 is a good deal in what you call honesty, and you 
 must give it a very wide acceptation if you are 
 reckoning up Sam's little games." But though 
 she scarcely knew it herself, perhaps the main- 
 spring of Lucy's prejudice arose from perceiving 
 that Clara Wargrave had made up her mind to 
 become Mrs. Eeginald Chacewater if she could. 
 Although no words of love had actually passed 
 between Eeginald and herself, they had known each 
 other from childhood, and Lucy had come to 
 regard him rather as her peculiar property. She 
 would have indignantly denied that there was any 
 feeling between them ; but she could not endure 
 the thought of poor Reggie throwing himself away 
 upon a girl so utterly unworthy of him as Clara 
 Wargrave. But it is possible, when it came to 
 selecting, that Lucy would have been hard to please 
 on that point. 
 
 However, all that was done with now. Lucv 
 cherished no hope of his being still alive, and in 
 
92 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 mourning for him, as to a great extent she did 
 in secret, she undoubtedly began to have some 
 inkling of the truth and recognise that her feeling 
 for Reginald had been considerably stronger than 
 she had had any idea of. Very much against her 
 wish, she had accompanied her father to this dinner 
 at Carlingham. It had been an invitation of some 
 standing, and sorry as they might feel about 
 Reginald Chacewater's sad fate, he was no relation 
 to them. The accident had occurred over two months 
 ago, and Mr. Marton did not consider they were 
 warranted in sending an excuse. She had felt very 
 indignant at what she termed the heartlessness of 
 the Wargraves, because they very naturally ab- 
 stained from alluding to the man who was gone. 
 " Clara Wargrave," she muttered to herself, " is 
 exactly what I always thought her. A girl with 
 no more feeling than an oyster for anyone but 
 herself. Poor Reginald, a short time ago, when 
 she thought he would suit her as a husband, she 
 was purring in his ear, and stealing soft glances 
 at him, and now she might have forgotten that he 
 ever existed." 
 
 This was not quite the case. Clara Wargrave, no 
 doubt, was of a phlegmatic disposition, but she was 
 exactly in the same position as Lucy, and whatever 
 her feelings might be, could make no outward 
 demonstration of her grief. 
 
 Miss Marton chanced to be seated near the door, 
 and rather apart from the other ladies, when the 
 gentlemen came in from the dining-room, and 
 
A FALL IN THE BAROMETER. 93 
 
 the conversation concerning the big race at 
 Epson had not as yet died away. She did not 
 profess to be a student of the Calendar or know 
 anything about racing, but she did know that what 
 was estimated the great prize of the year was the 
 Derby, and she did know that the favourite, " King 
 of the Huns," was a horse sprung from her own part 
 of the world, and was the property of Tom Bramber, 
 one of her father's parishioners, and the consequence 
 was, Mr. Walgrave's strongly expressed opinion 
 that " King of the Huns " had no earthly chance 
 for that race made considerable impression upon 
 her, and when some three or four mornings after- 
 wards she met the young farmer close to the 
 Eectory, and he raised his hat in reply to her 
 "Good morning, Mr. Bramber," she ventured to 
 hope that his horse was going on well. 
 
 "That's just where it is, Miss," replied Tom, 
 " to the best of my belief the • King's ' as well as 
 ever he was, but the Squire sent for me only two 
 days ago and tells me he hears that they won't let 
 me win the Derby, and recommended me to take 
 precautions against foul play." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Bramber, I don't know much about 
 such things, but there can be no harm in your 
 taking precautions, surely." 
 
 "Well," said Tom, smiling, "that's just what I 
 thought, and so I wrote off to Mr. Praze, who has 
 care of the horse, and told him." 
 
 " Just so, and what does he say ? " 
 
 "That it's all nonsense, that that sort of idle 
 
94 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 ialk is always flying about before a big race, and 
 winds up by saying, e Tell me who they are that 
 say such things,' and that's just what I don't 
 know." 
 
 " It so happens that I can tell you where the 
 Squire derived his information, because I happened 
 to be dining at Carlingham that night, and it was 
 from Mr. Wargrave we heard it." 
 
 " Mr. Wargrave," replied Bramber. " Why, what 
 does he know about horse-racing ? Why," continued 
 Tom, laughing, " there's not a gentleman round 
 knows less about sport than he does." 
 
 " He talks about racing, anyway, as if he under- 
 stood that," replied Miss Marton, merrily. " At all 
 events, for your sake, and the honour of the county, 
 I hope the * King ' will prove victorious," and 
 with a bright little nod she bade him good-bye. 
 
 " It's just what Praze says," thought Tom. 
 " Mere idle gossip. Not likely a man down here, 
 who has got nothing to do with it, can know what's 
 going on at Newmarket, much less a chap like this 
 Wargrave, who don't what I call know a horse when 
 he sees it. He's a bragging lot, from all accounts, 
 just the sort who'll lay down the law about every- 
 thing. I'll just drop Praze a line to tell him it's 
 all moonshine, and that if he's got a spare bed I 
 should like to run up to Newmarket and take a 
 look at the colt myself." 
 
 Considerably to his surprise, Tom Bramber 
 received a telegraphic reply to his letter, " Want to 
 see you, come at once," was the laconic message — 
 
A FALL IN THE BAROMETER. 95 
 
 " Praze." And that same afternoon saw Bramber 
 arrive at the trainer's house. 
 
 Dinner over, and enquiries about the " King's " 
 health satisfactorily answered, "There's no such 
 thing as a certainty in racing," remarked Mr. Praze, 
 sententiously, « but our Epsom chance is an unde- 
 niably good one. Such tales as you wrote to me 
 about are generally mere idle gossip, but there's 
 gossip and gossip, and what's rubbish in most men's 
 mouths becomes worth paying attention to in the 
 mouth of another. Now this Wargrave, tell me, is 
 he a big, blustering man, Christian name Samuel ? " 
 
 Bramber nodded assent. 
 
 " Ah ! " rejoined the trainer, " If Sam Wargrave 
 said that, there's something in it." 
 
 « Why Mr. Wargrave is not a racing man ! " ex- 
 claimed Bramber in astonishment. 
 
 " No," replied Praze, " but he dabbles in it now 
 and again ; he is great friends with two or three of 
 the shrewdest men on the Stock Exchange, who, 
 though not avowedly on the turf, are quite as deeply 
 involved in it as anybody. Tattersall's can't teach 
 the Stock Exchange much. From all which you 
 understand that what Sam Wargrave says is not to 
 be put down as mere 'talk.' It's quite possible 
 some of his old friends may have given him a hint 
 that the ' King ' won't win, without in the least 
 telling him what's going to happen to him." 
 
 M And what do you think is ? " replied Bramber, 
 eagerly. 
 
 "Nothing here," rejoined James Praze. "I 
 
96 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 think I can be sure that he will leave Newmarket 
 all right." 
 
 " And afterwards ? " said Tom, anxiously. 
 
 " We shall have to keep our eyes remarkably 
 wide open," returned the trainer. 
 
 The result of Tom Bramber's visit was, that 
 when he left Newmarket he was by no means so 
 confident of winning the Derby as on his arrival. 
 Another thing, too, which attracted his attention, 
 as it did that of many others conversant with the 
 Turf, was, that though all training reports from 
 Newmarket representing " King of the Huns " as 
 galloping in grand form, though on public running 
 he stood out as decidedly superior to all his an- 
 tagonists, yet he never advanced a point in the 
 quotations at TattersalPs. He did not go back in 
 the betting, but instead of advancing as the race 
 drew near, and creeping up point by point, as 
 the news of his being in great health came to 
 London morning after morning, he remained steady ; 
 he did not recede in the market, but at a price there 
 seemed always plenty of money to lay against him. 
 It too often happens in Turf matters that the 
 predictions of the prophets of evil prove true, 
 and those well versed in the mysteries of the 
 betting market noticed that some of the most 
 noted of these were very persistent in prophesying 
 the downfall of the "King," both by deed and 
 word. If there is much excitement in the winning 
 of a great race, there is much nervous irritation, 
 when you deem the coveted prize within your grasp, 
 
A FALL IN THE BAROMETER. 97 
 
 to be persistently told that it will escape you. No 
 reason is assigned, nothing but a shadowy menace 
 of danger. Such menace calculated to induce 
 belief that the prophets intend to take steps to 
 ensure the fulfilment of their denunciations. 
 Although Tom Bramber's time and thoughts were 
 all concentrated on the discovery of Kate Darley, 
 yet this mysterious something that threatened the 
 success of "King of the Huns" temporarily 
 changed their current. It was not only the pecu- 
 niary difference it would make to him, and that 
 in his eyes was a very considerable one, but like 
 others of his type, he couldn't bear to be beaten. 
 To be beaten honestly and squarely, well, though 
 he didn't like it, he could bear that, but to be 
 tricked out of the race, to know that his horse 
 had not fair play. He wouldn't stand that if he 
 knew it. Who were these scoundrels from whom 
 War grave got his information, and what was it they 
 intended doing ? 
 
 There were so many ways in which a horse could 
 be prevented from winning. Praze, too, seemed 
 strangely lukewarm about it. It was quite as 
 much his interest, in fact, as far as sheer money 
 went, more so, that the horse should win, as 
 his — Bramber's — and yet he said he could only 
 guarantee the colt's safety while he was at New- 
 market, Why not ? Why couldn't he keep watch 
 and ward over him at Epsom, just as well as in his 
 own stables ? And then Tom wondered how the 
 villainy contemplated against him was to be met. 
 
 7 
 
£8 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 Small comfort to be got out of Mr. Praze's sage 
 remark that they must keep their eyes remarkably 
 wide open. What rubbish ! Of course they must, 
 and see that a good many other people kept theirs 
 open too. Then Tom reverted to the great search 
 which was the main object of his life. Not a trace 
 had he discovered of the missing couple, and he 
 was puzzled now in what direction to make a fresh 
 cast. No matter, let him only get this Epsom busi- 
 ness off his mind, and he would start anew. It 
 was a curious thing that, although Mrs. Chace- 
 water and Tom Bramber believed Eeginald and 
 Kate Darley had gone off together, and were 
 anxious in the extreme to ascertain their where- 
 abouts they had taken different roads to the same 
 end. Whereas, Mrs. Chacewater directed all her 
 enquiries to the discovery of Kate, Bramber was 
 unceasing in his endeavours to find Reginald, but 
 hampered his agents by the statement that the 
 man he sought was accompanied by a young woman. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 "THE DERBY FEVER." 
 
 Some few years ago, what may be termed the Derby 
 fever, was wont to run very much higher than it 
 does now-a-days. It, so to speak, smouldered all 
 the winter, gathered strength during the early 
 spring, and reached its height in the month of 
 May. Country gentlemen, especially at that time, 
 felt they must run up to London, and see the great 
 
THE DERBY FEVER. 99 
 
 annual problem solved, and from the Derby week 
 till after Ascot many were the cheery dinners 
 eaten and hearty handgrips exchanged between old 
 University friends, old brother officers, etc., men 
 who had been sworn friends in bygone times, but 
 whose paths had now diverged, and who seldom 
 met, except on the occasion of this yearly holiday. 
 There are just as many dinners eaten, and much 
 the same sort of thing goes on still, no doubt, but 
 the interest in the great Epsom race has undoubt- 
 edly waned. Horses never fetched such prices, and 
 never were such big stakes run for, and yet somehow, 
 to old hands, it seemed that there was more genuine 
 love of the sport formerly than there is now. I 
 suppose it's the old story, we are cloyed. Even the 
 school-boy has to cry, " Hold, enough ! " at last, to 
 jam tarts. We have too much racing at present. 
 
 It does not necessarily follow that because men 
 are connected with horses, they either know or care 
 anything about racing, and the circus people were pro- 
 bably as indifferent to it as any folks in England ; but 
 still there were one or two there who had so far 
 yielded to the furore of the hour as to take a few 
 tickets in sweeps, and that these men should occa- 
 sionally talk about their modest speculations was 
 natural, and this at last attracted Kate Darell's — 
 as we must now call her — attention. JNot six months 
 ago, when she often got a letter from her brother 
 Jim, which was sure to contain gossip of a turfy 
 nature, she recollected that he had been very full 
 of a horse called " King of the Huns," that he had 
 
 7* 
 
100 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 dwelt a good deal upon the great things expected 
 from him. That he would carry off the Derby he 
 looked upon as an assured thing. Kate was a good- 
 natured girl, and had perhaps at the same time 
 a desire of gaining credit for some horsey know- 
 ledge with her present companions. She wished to 
 do them a good turn and gratify her innocent 
 vanity at the same time. As one who lived at 
 Newmarket, and was getting his living in a racing 
 stable, Miss Darell believed that her brother knew 
 all about such matters. He had not written of late, 
 for the best of all possible reasons, he did not know 
 where she was, but there was no reason he should 
 not. She would write to him, and tell him to hold his 
 tongue about it. She could trust Jim. If she told 
 him he was to keep her secret he would do so. And 
 she would keep Mr. Chacewater's, there was no 
 reason that she should say anything about him, 
 and then once more did Kate wonder what object 
 he could have in still allowing his friends to believe 
 him dead. The more she thought of this the more 
 Kate was puzzled. She herself had run away from 
 her friends for reasons quite satisfactory to herself. 
 That her mother would be very unhappy about it 
 was likely, but she knew her father too well to 
 think that he would trouble himself very much 
 about what became of her or Jim ; besides, nobody 
 for one moment supposed she was dead. The Misses 
 Eushey Piatt had seen her since the accident and 
 could vouch for her having escaped unhurt, besides 
 young men of Reginald's age have no reason to run 
 
THE DERBY FEVER. 101 
 
 away from home ; they can go if they wish to, and 
 none can hinder them. And the running away 
 from one's creditors was a thing outside her ex- 
 perience. Another thing she thought singular 
 about Reginald Chacewater, and that was that he 
 had not been discovered. She knew that he had 
 been advertised for, and it seemed to her, in full 
 possession of his identity, extraordinary that they 
 did not recognise him as the missing man. She 
 forgot what a very short time our minds retain such 
 notices as these. By the next day we have usually 
 forgot what the description of the missing man was 
 like, and by the day after, that there is a man 
 missing at all. 
 
 In pursuance of that decision, Kate wrote at once 
 to Jim Darley, and then, affecting great interest in 
 the forthcoming race, invested a half sovereign on 
 " King of the Huns " in a sweep, and hinted darkly 
 that she had relatives at Newmarket, who often 
 told her about all these sort of things in their 
 letters, but she should no doubt hear from them in 
 the course of a few days, and if she heard satisfac- 
 tory news of " The King," she should back him for 
 another half-sovereign herself, and would recom- 
 mend them all to follow her example. Her sisters 
 of the sawdust were aghast at the recklessness of 
 the neophyte. In due time came a letter from Jim. 
 He was delighted to hear from his sister, and scolded 
 her well for keeping him in ignorance of her where- 
 abouts, but he was so engrossed by the approaching 
 triumph of " his horse " at Epsom that he forgot to 
 
102 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 mention what it strongly had behoved him to 
 mention— to wit, that by her mysterious flight she 
 had given rise to much scandal. He was too young 
 to point out that a stain on her scutcheon, though 
 easy of acquirement by a woman, is apt to be diffi- 
 cult of effacement as the " damned spot " that so 
 troubled Lady Macbeth. Kate, pleased with her 
 work and the progress she was making in it, gaily 
 proclaimed the triumph of " The King," and The 
 Koyal Hippodrome were not only " on " to a man, 
 but also, in their little way, to a woman. 
 
 Although Reginald had never meddled much 
 with racing, it was not likely that a man of his age, 
 and who had gone through Cambridge, had not 
 seen plenty of it. The Heath, Ascot, etc., were all 
 familiar to young Chacewater. It is true that when 
 he went to Ascot he took it more in the light of a 
 large garden party, where one flirted and lunched 
 and had a good time generally, but still, taken even 
 in that way, people always combine a little betting 
 with it, and he was much amused when he found 
 the circus all suffering from a severe attack of 
 Derby fever. Faith in " The King " was preached 
 by the whole troupe, and the anxiety to proselytise 
 is never stronger than it is amongst women, when 
 they dabble in horse-racing. Miss Darell, indeed, 
 was immense upon the occasion, and painted a 
 small wager placed upon " The King " as an in- 
 vestment in the mines of Grolconda ! Reginald 
 laughed. Money was getting scarce with him, but 
 he too promised to stake his sovereign on what he 
 
THE DERBY FEVER. 103 
 
 jestingly described as " The Greatest Certainty of 
 Any Age." 
 
 " Think, Miss Darell, what a line for the bills." 
 
 " Miserable unbeliever, how dare you mock me, 
 but you must do as you have promised, Mr. Waters " 
 — his assumed name. " It will be such fun, we've 
 all agreed to have a great supper together to cele- 
 brate the victory." 
 
 " Hurrah ! " replied Eeginald. " Great Derby 
 dinner. Unparalleled attraction. No money taken 
 at the doors." 
 
 " Do be quiet, Mr. Waters. I am sure I've heard 
 or read something about winning your money like 
 a real swell. The great thing, as far as I remember, 
 is to look as if you had lost it." 
 
 Eeginald bowed to the rebuke, but felt that there 
 was small danger of these children of the arena wel- 
 coming success with any such stoicism. 
 
 Mr. Samuel Wargrave usually took himself to the 
 Metropolis betimes. It was not that the season 
 made so very much difference to him. He could 
 not be described as elect of Society, but he most 
 sincerely wished to push his way into it, and to be 
 what he called in his own vernacular " in with the 
 tip-toppers." With this view, he had bought an 
 estate and was attempting the role of a country 
 gentleman, but ever if a man was thoroughly bored 
 by country life, it was himself. He had not a 
 single pursuit that accorded with woods and green 
 fields. He preferred the flowers in Covent Garden 
 immeasurably to those in his own. He was essen- 
 
104 A KACING- RUBBER. 
 
 tially a man of cities, and his whole and somewhat 
 varied life had been passed among them, chiefly in 
 London, but he had followed unknown industries 
 both in Liverpool and Bristol. To escape as early 
 as possible from what to him seemed the solitude of 
 rural life was the natural instinct of all of us when 
 wearied past endurance. He liked the hum of the 
 town, his spirits rose at the sight of the crowded 
 streets, and really regarded his residence at Car- 
 lingham Park as a penance necessary to the ad- 
 vancement of his aspirations. So early April had 
 seen Wargrave duly settled once more in the 
 Metropolis. Eeginald Chacewater would have been 
 much surprised to know that Clara was sincerely 
 grieved at his supposed death. Miss Wargrave was 
 a vain, ambitious young woman, and fully aware 
 that their circle of acquaintance in town was by no 
 means of a refined order; indeed, she did not 
 scruple to confide to her mother that she looked 
 upon them for the most part as vulgar wretches. 
 Sparse though it might be, she knew that the society 
 they mixed with at Carlingham was composed of 
 much better bred people. She was eager to push 
 her way up the social ladder, and looked disdain- 
 fully down from a higher plain upon old friends 
 and acquaintances. Married to a young man of good 
 family like Eeginald Chacewater, and backed by 
 her father's money, she had thought attaining such 
 a position as she desired a mere matter of time. 
 She had plenty of tact, taste, and strong common 
 sense. She was a showy, and by no means a bad- 
 
THE DEEBY FEVER. 105 
 
 looking girl, and took very good care that both her 
 maid and her milliner should do her ample justice, 
 whatever else they might say. No one had ever 
 been able to assert that Clara Wargrave was not 
 well dressed. 
 
 Now without affirming that young men are scarce 
 from Clara's point of view, they were. Amongst all 
 her acquaintance in London she could not point 
 out one that she wished to marry. No doubt there 
 were many of impecunious young men who would 
 have answered her purpose, but then what is the 
 use of that when you never come across them. 
 At Carlingham eligible bachelors were scarce. 
 Reginald had seemed to fulfil every condition, 
 and, therefore, Miss Wargrave most sincerely 
 bewailed his luckless disappearance. She had to 
 begin all over again, and the fair Clara was 
 impatient. A well-born husband was an essential 
 in her scheme, and she was now at a loss for one 
 even in prospective. She had plenty of confidence 
 in herself, and though her common sense told her 
 that she might not quite succeed in subjugating 
 Reginald Chacewater, she had little doubt that he 
 would speedily perceive all the advantages of a 
 marriage with herself. As for love, that was an 
 old world - worn tale of our grandmothers, and 
 even if it wasn't, this very advanced young lady 
 would have asked what had it to do with marriage ? 
 It is only quite the common people make such 
 ridiculous marriages now-a-days. So that alto- 
 gether Miss Wargrave grieved much more sincerely 
 
106 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 for the lost Keginald than Lucy Marton gave her 
 credit for. 
 
 At Bottlesby the interest about the Epsom race 
 has rapidly reached the boil, and the talk at the 
 Farmers' Ordinary on market days becomes extremely 
 turfy. Was not " King of the Huns," the favourite, 
 the property of Tom Bramber, one of themselves, 
 and had not most of them " a poond or two on Tom's 
 horse " ? Every year had the Squire and the Eeverend 
 James Marton discussed whether they should go up 
 and see the great equine battle of the year fought, 
 much to the amusement of their feminine belong- 
 ings. It was a time - honoured joke fhis sham 
 discussion, for the Squire had been present on every 
 anniversary of the big race for more years than he 
 cared to recollect, while as for the parson, Lucy was 
 wont to say that the only piece of turf slang she 
 had ever understood was when Reginald, then a 
 freshman at Cambridge, had said to her, on the 
 conclusion of a debate on the subject, " Lucy, my 
 clear, it's odds on your papa being a starter." But 
 though greatly interested in the result, more so 
 indeed than usual, Mr. Chacewater was very decided 
 this year, and James Marton hadn't the heart even 
 to raise the question. He had been as fond of poor 
 -Reggie as if the boy had been his nephew. And 
 believe though the Squire might that his son was 
 not dead, yet, in the face of that unsolved mystery, 
 neither man felt willing to encounter the turmbil of 
 London in the Derby week. 
 
KATE DAKLEY'S DEBUT. 107 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 "KATE DARLEY'S DEBUT." 
 
 It was at length decreed by the ruler of that 
 branch of Slater's Circus to which Kate was attached 
 that she should make her first appearance in public. 
 She had now served an apprenticeship of a good 
 four months, and had proved a wonderfully apt 
 pupil. She could even jump through easy hoops 
 from the broad padded saddle, if the pace was but 
 moderate. But she was not thought good enough 
 in that line yet by the ring-master to make her 
 debut, and indeed they had plenty of young ladies 
 to fill those parts, but it so happened they had no 
 one to do the haute ecole. Poor Minnie Price had 
 been their star artiste in this particular line, and 
 the poor girl had not sufficiently recovered from her 
 sprain as yet to be able to ride. The manager 
 considered it to be a considerable attraction, and 
 thought Kate would do it quite sufficiently well to 
 make an appearance. " Her youth and good looks," 
 he urged, " will make up for her lack of experience. 
 She was a good horsewoman when she came to us, 
 and her previous knowledge will stand to her better 
 
 in that role than in any other, and then " 
 
 " You know, Mr. Waters," he exclaimed in a 
 sudden burst of enthusiasm, " by Jove ! she is in 
 
1C8 A KACING RUBBER. 
 
 looks a thorough lady, and in the high school 
 business that always fetches the pit and gallery." 
 
 Kate's heart beat quick upon learning that the 
 hour was at hand when she was to make her first 
 obeisance to the public. She felt nervous. What 
 artiste really good for anything is not at that first 
 plunge ? Most of our leading actors would tell you 
 that a first night is always an anxious time. I can 
 imagine a young author feeling dreadfully ashamed 
 on the appearance of his first book ; I can picture 
 him skulking about, and looking askance at those 
 he meets, and wondering whether they know that 
 he is the composer of those three volumes of 
 dreadful rubbish. I know there is the complacent 
 neophyte as well, who feels no anxiety on the 
 subject. A writer whose first book sometimes 
 proves his last. Nervousness has caused failure in 
 many a first essay from the stage to the cricket- 
 field. Kate, too, had a sharpish struggle with the 
 ring-master. While quite agreeing with Miss Darell 
 that she couldn't dress "too much the lady" for 
 high art equitation, their ideas a little differed as 
 to what that exactly meant. The ring-master's 
 views unmistakably savoured of the sawdust ; in 
 his heart he had a leaning for a Di Vernon hat and 
 feathers ; and as for habit, Kate declared that he 
 wanted her to wear one the date of which might be 
 described as " when all the world was young." Miss 
 Darell at last appealed to the manager, who at once 
 pronounced in her favour. 
 
 " Dress the character in your own way, my dear. 
 
KATE DAKLEY'S DEBUT. 109 
 
 Pm not afraid of your failing in any way, least of 
 all in that." 
 
 Flushed with her triumph, Kate was leaving the 
 theatre when she encountered Eeginald. She 
 stopped and suddenly exclaimed : 
 
 " Mr. Waters, don't you ever come here at night ? 
 I don't remember ever seeing you at a perform- 
 ance." 
 
 " No," he returned, " that is my working time, for 
 I am a busy man, although, I daresay, you do not 
 think so." 
 
 " Ah ! I am afraid," rejoined Kate, " I never 
 thought about it, but I hope you will come on 
 Thursday. I am to make my first appearance in 
 Chillingham that evening." 
 
 Miss Darell did not think it necessary to confide 
 to Eeginald that it was her first appearance alto- 
 gether, any more than she thought fit to tell him 
 that she was aware of his identity. 
 
 " I shall be only too glad," he replied. " Let's 
 hope your success on Thursday will be only the 
 forerunner of that of ' King of the Huns,' next 
 week." 
 
 " Don't laugh," was the rejoinder. " I only wish 
 I was as sure about the first as I am about the 
 second." 
 
 "Ah ! with me it's just the other way," rejoined 
 Eeginald. ° I wish I was quite as sure about the 
 second as I am about the first." 
 
 a Mind you come," said the girl with a laugh and 
 nod, and then she flitted off to her lodgings. 
 
11G A RACING RUBBER, 
 
 Should dire necessity compel one to efface one- 
 self, after the manner of Reginald Chacewater, a 
 source from which discovery is more liable to come 
 perhaps than anywhere is either from our own 
 servants or those of our friends and acquaintance. 
 They know so much more about us than we do 
 of them, and recognize us when we have no 
 recollection of them. They are very ubiquitous in 
 these days. That dreary old servant we read about 
 who keeps his place for twenty years, during the 
 last fifteen of which he had been an abominable 
 nuisance to the whole family, is a thing of the past. 
 You were staying in Scotland, perhaps, last year, 
 there was a housemaid there you occasionally passed 
 on the stairs, and to whom you gave a slight 
 douceur on leaving. You don't recollect her when 
 you meet her in the service of some other friends 
 in Devonshire, but the chances are the girl has 
 neither forgotten you nor your name. In oblite- 
 rating oneself in these days there is always danger 
 of recognition to be apprehended from the domestics 
 who come across us, and it so happened that Mary 
 Forster, a Bottlesby girl, who some two years before 
 had been a housemaid at Chacewater Grange, was now 
 in service at Chillingham ; a girl with all the thirst 
 of amusement natural to her age, and, not uncommon 
 with her class, a great weakness for a circus. Upon 
 the rare occasions on which this young woman could 
 get away from her employment her greatest delight 
 was to attend an afternoon performance of Mr. 
 Slater's troupe. The entertainment was always 
 
KATE DARLEY'S DEBUT. Ill 
 
 varying, and consequently offered fresh attractions, 
 though, for the matter of that, this enthusiast 
 would have been content to look on at exactly the 
 same performance for a month. That this young 
 woman should contrive to snatch a glance at the 
 local paper, which always contained the programme 
 of the Eoyal Hippodrome, was a matter of course, 
 and the discovery that the new star, Miss Darell, 
 would make her first appearance before a Chilling- 
 ham audience on Thursday night inflamed her with 
 curiosity. Miss Darell was announced with a great 
 blare of trumpets as the great favourite of half the 
 hippodromes in Europe, and Mary Forster felt that 
 if she could possibly manage the evening out on 
 Thursday next, it was imperative that she should 
 assist at Miss DareH's debut. 
 
 As a man well-known to them all, Reginald 
 Chacewater found himself put into an excellent seat 
 on the eventful night ; although it had amused him 
 to watch their practice and rehearsals, and to study 
 the inner life of the profession, Reginald had never 
 yet witnessed a performance. He had of late, from 
 prudence, abstained from going to any places of 
 amusement, and the lights, the crowd, and the 
 spectacle all combined to raise his spirits, and make 
 him feel like thoroughly enjoying himself. 
 
 A circus is usually a popular entertainment, and 
 there are few people who cannot pass two or three 
 hours most agreeably in watching the horses, 
 acrobats, and spangled-attired performers in the 
 different phases of their varied show. A storm of 
 
112 A EACING EUBBEE. 
 
 applause welcomed Miss Darell as, on a foam-flecked 
 black steed, she cantered lightly into the arena, 
 reined her horse up short, and bowed gracefully to 
 her audience. With her dark hair knotted closely 
 round her head and surmounted by the most- 
 orthodox of hats, and with a workman-like habit 
 which fitted her graceful figure to perfection, Kate 
 Darell was looking her best and brightest as she 
 faced an audience for the first time ; excitement 
 had brought a slight flush to her cheeks, and the 
 house at once recognised that whatever else she 
 might be, it was an uncommonly pretty girl that 
 was acknowledging her reception. Even Eeginald 
 was surprised. He had thought Miss Darell a very 
 pretty girl on the day they escaped from the 
 Regent's Park, but, often as they had met since, he 
 had only seen her in the half-light of the circus at 
 rehearsals, and then attired in a pot hat and ordinary 
 skirt, and looking rather hot and dishevelled from 
 her exertions. Pretty, no doubt, but he had never 
 quite recognised how pretty till this evening. Her 
 horse was a perfectly well - trained one and 
 thoroughly en rapport with herself. Well versed in 
 the tricks of the manege, he obeyed implicitly 
 every motion of her heel and hand, as she put him 
 through nearly the entire role of his accomplish- 
 ments. Two or three of these Kate's good taste 
 led her to reject, as, although clever, she was 
 conscious that they were not graceful, and that 
 neither she nor her steed would appear at their best, 
 and Kate's idea of the haute eeole was that every- 
 
KATE PARLEY'S DEBUT. 113 
 
 thing should be done with consummate ease, and 
 above all gracefully. 
 
 Another storm of applause followed the conclusion 
 of her performance, and having acknowledged the 
 ovation of her admirers, Kate cantered off to 
 receive the congratulations on her successful first 
 appearance. 
 
 If Mary Forster had sat entranced all through the 
 performance, she had been thunder-struck when 
 Kate first rode into the King. She had seen Miss 
 Darley, while at Chacewater Grange, too often in 
 hat and habit not to recognise her at once. She 
 had always heard that she rode remarkably well. 
 " But, lor," she murmured to herself, " to think 
 that she can ride like that ! " And then Mary 
 began to wonder when she took to it, how long 
 she had been at it, etc. Then the vagaries of the 
 two clowns with some hats, which they seemed to 
 delight in wearing anywhere but on their heads, 
 distracted her attention, and for the time put all 
 thoughts of Miss Darley out of her head. Although 
 she had left the Grange about two years ago, and 
 barely six months after Miss Darley had come there, 
 still Mary never doubted that she and Miss Darell 
 were one and the same person. 
 
 The show was all over, and Keginald, well-used to 
 the ins and outs of the place, made his way behind 
 the scenes to shake hands with Kate, and say a few 
 words of gratulation on her success ; and fortunate 
 for him was it that he did so, had he not, the pro- 
 bability is that he would have stumbled across 
 
 8 
 
114 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 Mary Forster, and that she would have recognised 
 him just as surely as she had done Kate. That 
 Mary would talk her evening's amusement over 
 with her fellow-servants was a matter of course, and 
 that she should dilate on how she had once lived in 
 the same household with the new star, this Miss 
 Darell, was sure to come to pass. Indeed, Mary 
 would have much to say on the subject, and already 
 considered that her previous acquaintance, although 
 in a humble capacity, with such a public character 
 as Kate, gave her a factitious importance. All this 
 would matter very little in Chillingham, but it was 
 not likely that she did not keep up some correspon- 
 dence with the Grange. Nor, when next the spirit 
 moved her to write there, was it probable that such 
 a tit-bit of gossip as this would be kept out of her 
 letter. The news that Mrs. Chace water is vainly 
 seeking seems likely to reach her before long with- 
 out any effort on her part. And that will prove the 
 truth of her theory, and, in finding Kate Darley, 
 recover her son. 
 
 Having thoroughly enjoyed his evening, and at 
 the same time feeling that he had never done 
 justice to Miss Darell's personal attractions, Eeginald 
 was in high spirits, and tendered his congratulations 
 with more warmth and geniality than he had ever 
 infused into his intercourse with Kate. The girl 
 was struck with the change, and flushed and pleased 
 with her own success, responded in like manner, and 
 from that night their acquaintance became on a 
 more intimate footing. The ladies of the troupe 
 
KATE DARLEY'S DEBUT. 115 
 
 smiled, looked knowing, and speedily settled that 
 the pair were fast ripening into lovers, of which, 
 whatever the future might have in store, the pair at 
 present were most certainly unconscious. Very 
 good friends, no doubt, enjoying each other's 
 society, and seeing a good deal of each other. 
 Kate's professional duties compelled her attendance 
 at the Circus nearly every morning, and, as we 
 know, Reginald had constituted it his favourite 
 lounge. But it is difficult for people to remain on 
 terms of close friendship without any reference to 
 their antecedents, more especially when each has one 
 point on which their curiosity is excited with regard 
 to the past. Miss Darell was thirsting to know, not 
 only upon what work Reginald was engaged, but 
 also why he persistently kept his existence concealed 
 from his family, while he, on his side, had a great 
 desire to learn what Miss Darell's life had been 
 before her connection with the Royal Hippodrome. 
 Her superiority of manner to themselves had been 
 matter of remark when she first came amongst 
 them, from Mr. Slater downwards, but who she was, 
 or what she had been, as they told Reginald, they 
 knew no more than he did. 
 
 " Might be a live countess for all we know to the 
 contrary ; carries her head high enough at times, 
 but she's not a bad sort all the same." 
 
 It was quite clear to Reginald that any informa- 
 tion he might want about Miss Darell must 
 come from her own lips, and that she was far too 
 clever a girl to be entrapped into confession by 
 
 8* 
 
HG A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 insidious cross-examination. Her eyes sparkled 
 sometimes at some "fishing" question which he 
 conceived most craftily put ; he knew he was de- 
 tected, and could almost have laughed at the 
 dextrous ease with which it was parried. It amused 
 the girl to think that while she knew perfectly well 
 who " Mr. Waters " was, he was completely in the 
 dark as to who Miss Darell might be, and she could 
 sometimes hardly suppress a mad desire to turn the 
 conversation upon Chacewater Grange and Bottlesby 
 parish, and cover the impostor with confusion. But 
 no, she must find out Keginald's reason for silence 
 before she allowed him to know who she was. 
 
 Kather an important day that Thursday had been 
 in the annals of the Darleys, had Kate but known it, 
 for in the morning Jim also had made his debut, 
 and had for the first time been allowed to take a 
 prominent part in the trial, which was to satisfy the 
 stable that their faith in < : King of the Huns" for 
 the Derby was justified. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 " THE TRIAL." 
 
 The sun shines brightly down upon Newmarket 
 Heath, although what wind there is blows rather 
 keenly, as it is wont to do there at the end of May, let 
 the day be ever so fine. A small group of men and 
 horses have gathered together on the for side, and it is 
 evident that a discussion of considerable interest has 
 just commenced. The heaving flanks and dilated 
 
THE TRIAL. 117 
 
 nostrils of the four horses pacing round and round 
 the group before-mentioned indicate clearly that 
 they have just been galloped, and it is the results of 
 that gallop that Mr. Praze, Tom Bramber, and 
 Wrench are now talking over. 
 
 " Well," said Bramber, " I think we may say now 
 that the Derby's all over." 
 
 Mr. Praze smiled as he replied, "Yes, if the 
 ' King ' will only do as well on the Downs as he has 
 done on the Heath, I think we may say it is. 
 About good enough, John, isn't it ? " he added, 
 turning to the jockey, " though you hadn't much in 
 hand at the finish." 
 
 " No," replied Wrench, " it was about all out of 
 my horse. You haven't told me what the, weights 
 were, but I suppose you asked him a pretty stiff 
 question ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the trainer quietly. " I set him to 
 give old ' Logarithm' a stone, and I don't think 
 there's a colt that he'll have to meet next Wednesday 
 could do that, nor even the half of it." 
 
 " No," replied Wrench, " he ought to win." 
 
 " He ought to win," broke in Tom Bramber 
 impetuously. " Hang it all, you mean he will win, 
 man ! " 
 
 Mr. Praze shot a keen and anxious glance at the 
 jockey, and then said quietly, " What is it, John ? " 
 
 " Temper," replied Wrench laconical^. " I've 
 got an idea that he may take it into his head to 
 show it when he gets into a crowd." 
 
 " I've never seen a sign of it, yet," said the 
 
118 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 trainer, and beckoning to the lad upon " King of 
 the Huns " to stop, he walked quickly across to the 
 horse, and as he caressed his neck glanced atten- 
 tively at him. It was only the glance of a moment, 
 but James Praze was favoured with what he had 
 never noticed before in the " King," namely a good 
 look at the whites of his eyes. Stepping back 
 quickly to the side of the other two, he said, " What 
 makes you think so, John ? " 
 
 " Well, this," returned the jockey, " the trial was 
 run exactly as you proposed, the two young ones 
 racing with one another, brought us along a cracker 
 as far as they could. At the end of the mile they 
 were about done with, and the one Darley was riding 
 swerved nearly over me from sheer distress, in fact 
 he would have done so outright if it hadn't been for 
 great efforts on the part of Jim — that boy will ride 
 some of these days — then, as we had arranged, old 
 * Logarithm ' came to the front, and I called upon 
 the ' King ' to go up to him. Well, there's no 
 nonsense ;>bo it it, but for a few strides I thought 
 . he was going to shut up. It seemed quite as if he 
 was going to sulk, and refuse to try any more. 1 
 sat quite still upon him, afraid even to touch him, 
 and then he went on again and, as you saw, won 
 clever at last." 
 
 " He's bred to stay," remarked the trainer medita- 
 tively. " We have tried him to stay, and he can 
 
 " Quite so," replied Wrench, " but he's a nervous 
 colt, and a queer-tempered colt besides, take my 
 
THE TRIAL. 119 
 
 word for it. I came through with him in the 
 Biennial, was right in front all the way, and there 
 was consequently nothing to interfere with us. I 
 can't do that at Epsom, there's plenty of room and 
 it's all straight on the Rowley Mile, at Epsom there's 
 Tattenham Corner to get round, and then there's 
 likely to be a large field." 
 
 Mr. Praze made no further comment on the 
 jockey's observations, but turning to Bramber, said, 
 " « King of the Huns ' is as fit as I can make him. If 
 John there don't win on him next Wednesday, it 
 will be either from bad luck, or confounded obstinacy. 
 I've never known him to show temper yet, but men 
 are like that, smooth enough as long as things go 
 right and they can get their own way." 
 
 Mr. Praze made no further allusion to there being 
 any unfair play threatening the horse, and when 
 Bramber asked him what precautions he proposed 
 taking at Epsom, he merely said, " He'll leave New- 
 market all right on Monday, and I'll take very good 
 care that he's well looked after at Epsom. I'm 
 not very much afraid of any harm happening to him, 
 but Sam Wargrave, years ago, was in with a lot who 
 didn't talk lightly. I won't say they did anything 
 wrong, more especially Wargrave himself, but it was 
 very odd that when they didn't think much of a 
 horse, and bet against him, he didn't as a rule win." 
 
 Mr. Praze was a cautious man, he understood the 
 ins and outs of his profession thoroughly, and quite 
 recognised that, with no unfair play in the case, bad 
 luck often dogs the steps of those who go racing. 
 
123 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 in the bolting. The consequence of these tactics 
 vras, no favourite was ever more unsteady for the 
 great race than " King of the Huns." The public 
 was fairly mizzled ; no sooner had the opposition 
 driven him back to seven or eight to one than those 
 who believed in him came to his support and placed 
 him once more fairly at the head of the poll. The 
 sporting papers hardly knew what price to quote 
 him at ; and if this caused considerable excitement 
 in the racing world during those last three or four 
 days, you may judge there was much talk on the 
 subject in the Koyal Hippodrome at Chill ingham. 
 
 Kate had had a line from her brother just after 
 the trial, in which that young enthusiast assured 
 her that there never was such a horse as the 
 "King"; that he would win the Derby by the 
 length of a street; and that if she wanted new 
 bonnets, now was her time to get them, free gratis 
 and for nothing. And when Kate gleefully com- 
 municated the news to her friends, Slater's troupe 
 were flashed with elation, and regarded Miss Darell 
 as an inspired prophetess. Although only some 
 three or four days had elapsed between Kate's debut 
 and the eve of the Derby, yet Miss Darell and 
 Reginald had grown more intimate in that short 
 space of time than they had done in the whole of 
 their previous acquaintance. Some of the plea- 
 santest friendships of our lives are formed in this 
 wise. Thrown together by stress of weather in a 
 dreary hotel when travelling, or three or four days 
 passed in a country house, sometimes make us 
 
THE TEIAL. 123 
 
 discover attractions in people, who, long though we 
 may have known them, never particularly interested 
 us before. 
 
 There could not well be a man more un suited 
 for the enterprise he had embarked upon than 
 Reginald. He was of a gregarious temperament, 
 utterly unfitted to lead a solitary life. He had no 
 wish to proclaim his doings on the house-tops ; but, 
 on the other hand, he was not a man to keep his 
 hopes and fears to himself. He had a craving to 
 share his aspirations with somebody ; and now that 
 he really was working hard, and sanguine about 
 that work, he felt dreadfully in want of somebody to 
 confide in. He had plenty of friends, some literary 
 strugglers like himself, others, men still on the 
 bottom of the ladder of their various professions, 
 but all high of heart, and given to drawing glowing 
 pictures of the time to come, but he was all alone, 
 he was dead, slain by his own hand. In his utter 
 dearth of acquaintances, he had taken to passing his 
 mornings pretty regularly in the Royal Hippo- 
 drome ; and though upon excellent terms with the 
 whole troupe, Miss Darell was the only one who had 
 even a pretence of culture and refinement ; and the 
 impulse to speak to her of what he was doing, and 
 his hopes concerning it, was at times almost uncon- 
 trollable. Nonsense, what folly ! Why confess his 
 secret to this circus-rider ? Why ? Simply because, 
 circus-rider or not, he felt that she was different 
 from any woman he had ever met. She seemed so 
 to sympathize with him in his loneliness. Kate 
 
122 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 in the betting. The consequence of these tactics 
 was, no favourite was ever more unsteady for the 
 great race than " King of the Huns." The public 
 was fairly puzzled ; no sooner had the opposition 
 driven him back to seven or eight to one than those 
 who believed in him came to his support and placed 
 him once more fairly at the head of the poll. The 
 sporting papers hardly knew what price to quote 
 him at ; and if this caused considerable excitement 
 in the racing world during those last three or four 
 days, you may judge there was much talk on the 
 subject in the Eoyal Hippodrome at Chillingham. 
 
 Kate had had a line from her brother just after 
 the trial, in which that young enthusiast assured 
 her that there never was such a horse as the 
 " King " ; that he would win the Derby by the 
 length of a street ; and that if she wanted new 
 bonnets, now was her time to get them, free gratis 
 and for nothing. And when Kate gleefully com- 
 municated the news to her friends, Slater's troupe 
 were flashed with elation, and regarded Miss Darell 
 as an inspired prophetess. Although only some 
 three or four days had elapsed between Kate's debut 
 and the eve of the Derby, yet Miss Darell and 
 Keginald had grown more intimate in that short 
 space of time than they had done in the whole of 
 their previous acquaintance. Some of the plea- 
 santest friendships of our lives are formed in this 
 wise. Thrown together by stress of weather in a 
 dreary hotel when travelling, or three or four days 
 passed in a country house, sometimes make us 
 
THE TRTAL. 123 
 
 discover attractions in people, who, long though we 
 may have known them, never particularly interested 
 us before. 
 
 There could not well be a man more un suited 
 for the enterprise he iiad embarked upon than 
 Reginald. He was of a gregarious temperament, 
 utterly unfitted to lead a solitary life. He had no 
 wish to proclaim his doings on the house-tops ; but, 
 on the other hand, he was not a man to keep his 
 hopes and fears to himself. He had a craving to 
 share his aspirations with somebody ; and now that 
 he really was working hard, and sanguine about 
 that work, he felt dreadfully in want of somebody to 
 confide in. He had plenty of friends, some literary 
 stragglers like himself, others, men still on the 
 bottom of the ladder of their various professions, 
 but all high of heart, and given to drawing glowing 
 pictures of the time to come, but he was all alone, 
 he was dead, slain by his own hand. In his utter 
 dearth of acquaintances, he had taken to passing his 
 mornings pretty regularly in the Royal Hippo- 
 drome ; and though upon excellent terms with the 
 whole troupe, Miss Darell was the only one who had 
 even a pretence of culture and refinement ; and the 
 impulse to speak to her of what he was doing, and 
 his hopes concerning it, was at times almost uncon- 
 trollable. Nonsense, what folly ! Why confess his 
 secret to this circus-rider ? Why ? Simply because, 
 circus-rider or not, he felt that she was different 
 from any woman he had ever met. She seemed so 
 to sympathize with him in his loneliness. Kate 
 
124 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 was a warm-hearted girl, and that he was depressed 
 and unhappy about something or other, was scarce 
 likely to escape her notice. Her knowing all about 
 him, and the affection she entertained for his 
 family, naturally induced her to be kind to him, 
 and that a young man in Eeginald's place should 
 mistake this for sympathy, is easy to understand. 
 It never occurred to him that Miss Darell could 
 see nothing to be sympathetic to him about, and in 
 brooding over the unpleasantness of his present 
 position, quite forgot, as we are all apt to do, that it 
 was entirely of his own making. And so it came to 
 pass that some three or four days after their friend- 
 ship had glided on to this more intimate footing, he 
 confided to Kate the work he was engaged upon, 
 and all his hopes and fears regarding it. Kate, as 
 we know, was a girl fond of reading, and of a vivid 
 imagination. She had discussed books many times 
 in the last two or three years, but she never en- 
 countered anyone who made the slightest attempt 
 at writing them, or even ventured to believe in 
 their capability of doing so. She thought an author 
 must be, de facto, a clever man, and some little awe 
 was now mingled with the interest with which she 
 regarded the embryo writer before her. She did 
 not reflect that the authors who can claim that 
 epithet, are a very small percentage — " Of making 
 many books there is no end, and much scribbling is 
 a weariness of the flesh " — quotb the Preacher, or 
 something like it. 
 
 Was ever there a young author who could with- 
 
THE TEIAL. 125 
 
 stand the temptation of talking over his first book ? 
 Why should he not ? It is human nature. Did he 
 not hope it would be a success, he would never have 
 gone through the trouble of penning it, and success 
 in the springtime of life is, or ought to be, what we 
 all aim at, and if fame but come with it, the wine 
 of the gods, for once at all events, has touched our 
 lips. That this mighty secret should draw the two 
 young people closer together than ever was only 
 natural. Reginald was ever willing to discuss the 
 difficulties of his story with her, for, instead of an 
 elaborate treatise on the law of copyright, calculated 
 to advance him in his profession, Mr. Chacewater 
 was engaged in the composition of a romance in 
 three volumes. " What solicitor, do you suppose, 
 would send a brief to a man who has written a 
 burlesque?" said a well-known dramatist of the 
 present day, on being asked if he ever went on 
 circuit ; and the writing of a novel would, I should 
 fear, lead likewise to extinction as a barrister. That 
 all this looked remarkably like the prelude to their 
 falling in love with each other there can be no 
 denying. Kate, too, really did take considerable 
 interest in the story he was telling, and on more 
 than one occasion her quick imagination suggested 
 a way out of difficulties that troubled him. That 
 the girl had something of the romancer in her 
 nature was evident. We must remember the stories 
 with which, when they were children, she used to 
 amuse her brother Jim. Authors are sensitive 
 beings, and this might have marred the harmony 
 
126 A EACING KUBBEB. 
 
 now existing between them ; but Kate was practical 
 as well as imaginative, and it never entered into 
 her head that the writing of tales was a vocation 
 for which she had any gift. She was getting on fast 
 in her new profession, and was so naturally graceful 
 with it all, that her companions all prophesied a great 
 future for her. She was very independent too, and 
 had once or twice declined to essay some new trick 
 of equitation, on the grounds, not that she could not 
 succeed in doing it with practice, but " there's not 
 a lady in the troupe can do it except by severe 
 effort, nor do I believe there ever will be. All 
 riding in the Eing to be good for anything must be 
 done easily." They could not taunt her with being 
 afraid, for she was only apt to be too venturesome. 
 Just as she had decided that a sedentary life would 
 not suit her, so now did Kate's common-sense warn 
 her where she and Keginald Chacewater were 
 drifting to. She liked him ; yes, owned to herself 
 that she liked him very much, and she felt pretty 
 sure that he liked her. " But," she asked herself, 
 " how long can this go on ? And if we get to care 
 about each other, what's to become of us then ? He 
 can't remain dead all his life ; he can't marry me, 
 his family would never allow it ; for both our sakes 
 I shall have to put an end to this ; at all events for 
 my own. I cannot leave the circus ; I have bound 
 myself to Mr. Slater for so many years. If I only 
 knew why — what Eeggie's motive can be in thus 
 concealing himself from all his family and friends ? 
 I dare not ask him ; but surely it would be best for 
 
HIE FIRST GAME OF THE RUBBER. 127 
 
 him, best for me, that he should acknowledge at 
 once that he is alive and well." 
 
 From these reflections, and the glib way that Mr. 
 Chacewater's Christian name had passed through 
 Miss Darell's brain, it was evident that her conjec- 
 ture was correct, and that the pair were lovers now 
 really, although, perhaps, some little distance yet off 
 being avowed ones. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 "the first game of the rubber." 
 A beautiful Derby morning, and London is in 
 all that simmer of excitement which only the 
 University Boat-race and the old Epsom contest 
 seem able to evoke. Of late years we have seen the 
 erection of other shrines in the great City's vicinity, 
 to which the votaries of racing within her gates 
 flock forth to worship; but to the real, un- 
 adulterated Cockney there is only one race in the 
 world, and nothing but dire necessity prevents his 
 attending the Derby. That he does not know the 
 names of the horses engaged, that he will probably 
 be taking his pleasure in his own way while the 
 race is being won, and that on his return to Town 
 he is positively in happy ignorance of the name of 
 the winner, matters nothing. It represents the one 
 annual outing, and it grieves him sorely not to 
 assist in the celebration of the great festival. 
 Despite all the chops and changes of the market 
 during the last few days, < : King of the Huns " has 
 
128 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 settled down a strong favourite at last. His arrival 
 at Epsom has been duly chronicled, and the news 
 that he has done a rare good gallop over the entire 
 course has also reached Town, and his detractors are 
 for the time silenced, or at all events abstain from 
 betting against him, which, in the parlance of the 
 Eing, comes to pretty much the same thing. A few 
 hours more, and the wires will be flashing the 
 name of the Champion Three-year-old of the season, 
 veritably from pole to pole. Curious that such a 
 message should be wider spread, and perhaps more 
 anxiously looked for, than intelligence of revolutions 
 or the fate of kings. 
 
 Mr. Sam Wargrave is there, in one of the biggest 
 boxes on the grand tier, resplendent in white hat, 
 white waistcoat, straw-coloured kid gloves and a 
 dust coat, beaming upon everybody, patronising 
 everybody, hospitably asking men of all sorts to 
 come up and have just a snack and a glass of wine 
 at his box after the race — if the snack does not 
 include pate de foie gras, perigord pies, etc., etc., 
 there will be stormy times awaiting Mr. Wargrave's 
 retainers on his return to Town — and to one and all, 
 if asked, does Mr. Wargrave confide that he has got 
 " his little bit on ' Chorister,' " and that he thinks 
 he will win cleverly. Further, asked by some of his 
 shrewder acquaintance what makes him ignore 
 " King of the Huns," Mr. Wargrave somewhat con- 
 temptuously expresses his opinion that the 
 favourite is a mere " miler," and will never get 
 the course 
 
THE EIB3T GAME OF THE BUBBEE. 129 
 
 " Eeally, Sam ? " said one of these gentlemen, 
 with marked emphasis, and looking Mr. Wargrave 
 keenly in the face. 
 
 " Very much really, my dear boy," was the reply, 
 and once more begging him not to forget to turn 
 up for lunch, Mr. Wargrave winked genially at his 
 questioner. 
 
 The gentleman laughed as he turned away, and, 
 as he made his way back to the Lawn, muttered, 
 " He knows his way about, does Sam, and a hint 
 from him at the last moment on the race-course is 
 usually worth attending to. « His little bit,' indeed ! 
 It would make me very uncomfortable, I know, to 
 have such a little bit on a race. However, I'll 
 follow his hint, and just have a pony on 
 < Chorister.' " 
 
 The usual scrutiny is going on in the Paddock, 
 with the usual diversity of opinion. There is a 
 tendency in human nature to believe to the last in 
 the ship that carries your fortunes, and those whose 
 money is invested on horses are given to be blind to 
 their defects, be they of form or condition, till the 
 fiat of the judge has dispelled the illusion. As un- 
 kind things are said of the competitors as may be 
 heard anent the fashionable beauties by the 
 loungers on the rails in Hyde Park during a 
 summer afternoon. Eyes keen to detect the flaws, 
 and, in their anxiety to detect them, overlooking 
 such good points as a colt can boast of. However, if 
 they have their traducers, these high-bred animals 
 rejoice also for the most part in blind and foolish 
 
130 A KACING KUBBEK. 
 
 worshippers. At the further side of the Paddock, 
 the trainer of " Chorister " is talking earnestly with 
 William Stainer, the jockey who is about to ride the 
 horse in the forthcoming race. Mr. Brett is a little, 
 cat-like man, with small, keen eyes, enough to go 
 through you when they fairly catch yours, but he has 
 a somewhat shifty glance, and it is not often that he 
 looks the person he is conversing with honestly in 
 the face. Still if the trainer's countenance is not 
 prepossessing, he is a man of good repute, and 
 numbers amongst his patrons men whose probity is 
 utterly above suspicion. 
 
 " Now, William," he said, si you thoroughly 
 understand your orders. You are to wait upon 
 the favourite till you are round Tattenham Corner, 
 and then come right through — your horse can't 
 stay, but he can go quick. The slower the race is 
 run, the better for you, but mind, don't lie too close 
 to him, but wait upon the favourite." 
 
 " All right, I understand, but it's not much use. 
 * King of the Huns ' slipped us in the Guineas, you 
 know, but he had the foot of me all the same." 
 
 " Quite so, William, quite so," rejoined Mr. Brett 
 blandly ; " but there's always the luck of Tattenham 
 Corner, you know. Get safely round that, who 
 knows, perhaps the ' King ' won't ; then, do as I tell 
 you. Strangle in." 
 
 William Stainer nodded, and then walked quietly 
 off to look after his mount. A fine horseman, with 
 a first-class standing in his profession, he was also 
 of unblemished character; but it is not to be 
 
THE FIRST GAME OF THE RUBBER. 131 
 
 supposed that he had not a tolerable inkling of 
 what Mr. Brett and the " Chorister " party were 
 counting upon. It was all nothing to him, no 
 wrong proposal had been made to him, his business 
 was to do the best he could for his employers, and if 
 any mischance should befall " King of the Huns " 
 in coming round Tattenham Corner, to take advan- 
 tage of it. He knew his horse was tremendously 
 fast for about six furlongs, and, should they not 
 begin racing in earnest till that distance from 
 home, felt that, except the favourite, he held his 
 field pretty safe. 
 
 Almost simultaneously with the above, only in a 
 different part of the Paddock, a like conversation 
 was taking place between Mr. Praze and Wrench, 
 and at which Tom Bramber was assisting. 
 
 "Now, John," said the trainer, "I've nothing 
 much to tell you about the colt. He can race and 
 stay, and is as fit as hands can make him. Eide 
 him as you like, only one thing, keep as clear of the 
 crowd as you can, and keep on the outside round 
 the Corner." 
 
 "That's giving away pretty well two lengths, you 
 know, Mr. Praze." 
 
 " And the * King ' can give it, or six either," 
 broke in Bramber, with his accustomed impetuosity. 
 
 Wrench looked at Tom in a pitying way. He did 
 not believe in giving a point away anywhere in race 
 riding. 
 
 "You've got your orders, John," replied the 
 trainer curtly. " Once more I repeat, 6 lie out- 
 
 9* 
 
132 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 side.' " And as he walked away with Bramber, he 
 said, "He's the best horseman in England, and 
 there's none straighter ; but he's as obstinate as a 
 mule, and thinks there's no one can ride like him." 
 A few minutes more, and the two paused to have 
 a look at the " King," as with Wrench on his back 
 he paced proudly by on his way out of the Paddock. 
 " I suppose I am to stop here, sir ? " exclaimed a 
 voice in rather piteous tones, which proceeded from 
 a small knot of stable lads, apparently left in charge 
 of some horse-clothing." 
 
 " Ah, Jim," said Tom Bramber, " you want to see 
 your horse run, I suppose ? " 
 
 The boy made no reply, but theVay his face lit 
 up at the suggestion, made words quite unneces- 
 sary. 
 
 "Stop, come here," suddenly exclaimed the 
 trainer, and thrusting his hand into his pocket he 
 produced a handful of loose silver. "Now," he 
 continued, " you know all about the course, you 
 led the ' King's' gallop over it only yesterday. 
 Mind you attend strictly to my orders. Take the 
 first fly you can pick up, and drive as quick as you 
 can to Tattenham Corner. Make your way in to 
 the railings on the outside. You'll have trouble, 
 the crowd's gathered pretty thick there already, no 
 doubt, but mind, you've got to do it. Stick there 
 till the horses come round, then keep your eye on 
 the ' King,' and take particular notice of what 
 happens. Off with you, you've no time to spare." 
 And so saying, Mr. Praze waved his hand, and in 
 
THE FIRST GAME OF THE RUBBER. 133 
 
 obedience to the signal Jim Darley vanished as fast 
 as his legs could carry him. " Now, Tom, we'll go 
 up and see it. Our horse is all right. If any foul 
 play is intended, it will take place in the race, and 
 Tattenham Corner is the most dangerous point." 
 
 The story of the Derby is an oft-told tale, and 
 yet to the man who loves racing no two Derbys are 
 alike. From the year when the " West " won by 
 a neck — a neck I was too young to understand — to 
 the day when favourite after favourite compounded 
 in the mud, and Fordham drove home a powerful 
 coach-horse, " Sir Bevis," on the upper ground to 
 victory, I can call to mind no two struggles for the 
 championship of the year, which were not marked 
 by many differences. It is its continued variety 
 that gives to racing its greatest charm. 
 
 Mad with excitement at the idea of somehow 
 being concerned in the great race about to be run, 
 and anxious to see his horse, as he proudly calls it, 
 make hacks of his opponents, Jim Darley speeds 
 gaily upon his errand. By dint of free expenditure 
 of the change Mr. Praze has given him he is 
 quickly at Tattenham Corner, and there, as the 
 trainer has anticipated, he finds the crowd already 
 clustered thick round the rails. However, with a 
 little pushing and a little cajolery, in a very few 
 minutes he has got an excellent place and, with 
 nerves strung to the highest tension, awaits the 
 coming of the horsemen. The preliminary canters 
 are all over when Jim gains his coign of vantage, 
 the competitors are all gone down to the post, and 
 
134 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 there is that anxious delay that always more or less 
 heralds the start for the Derby. All the few 
 shillings he is able to muster are staked upon the 
 success of the " King," and he has wound himself 
 up to such a pitch of nervous anxiety as far exceeds 
 that of most of those who have got thousands on 
 the result. To do him justice, the money has little 
 to say to it, though shillings and thousands are 
 mere relative terms in proportion to the means of 
 those betting them. It's the success of the colt 
 that he has tended and watched over for the last 
 two years, and of whom perhaps, except his sister, 
 he is fonder than anything in the world. And now 
 the hoarse roar of the crowd proclaims that the 
 competitors are on their way. Anxiously he strains 
 his eyes towards the nearest point at which they 
 are visible. He just catches a glimpse of their 
 caps as they gallop through the furzes, and then 
 they are once more lost entirely to view. He can 
 see but a little distance from where he is, and before 
 the horses meet his eye, comes the thunder of their 
 hoofs. Then comes a perfect babble of tongues, as 
 of a score or more all speaking at once, in language 
 more forcible than polite, and then like a whirlwind 
 a confused mass of horses and silken jackets swing 
 round the corner. In a second, Jim's quick eye 
 has picked out the black and scarlet hoops of 
 " King of the Huns." He is on the inner side the 
 turn, and next the rails. Another instant and a 
 big colt ridden by somebody in a black jacket closes 
 in upon him ; there is a slight collision, and Jim 
 
THE FIRST GAME OF THE RUBBER. 135 
 
 can see that Wrench is very nearly driven over the 
 rails, and then they sweep on, and Jim Darley can 
 see nothing but a confused troop of horsemen fast 
 vanishing in the distance, and is oppressed with a 
 hideous misgiving that the black and scarlet hoops, 
 on the success of which all his very soul is centred, 
 is considerably in the rear. Jim has not been at 
 Newmarket for two years without knowing that a 
 collision may mean the upsetting of a horse in 
 either his stride or his temper, and he feels sick at 
 heart, and wroth with the world generally, as he 
 struggles to disentangle himself from the crowd in 
 which he is wedged. 
 
 It may be that Jim was in a great hurry in dis- 
 charge of his mission, to get back to the Paddock, 
 and recount what he had seen to Mr. Praze. In 
 conjuncture with that it must be borne in mind that, 
 although the discipline of a racing stable had 
 schooled him in great measure to retain it, he had 
 naturally a hasty temper, and, moreover, was now 
 suffering the bitterness of defeat. It is possible 
 that Jim was pushing his way somewhat rudely 
 through the crowd. At all events he came into 
 collision with a bullet-headed young man, who 
 returning the shove that Jim had given him with 
 interest, remarked sarcastically : 
 
 "If you have lost your two-and-six, you little 
 varmint, you needn't be in such an everlasting 
 hurry to wash it down. Backed a fiddle-headed 
 wrong 'un, I suppose." 
 
 The young man spoke entirely at random, but in 
 
i:J6 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 his present state of mind, Jim immediately took it 
 as an aspersion upon the " King." There was a 
 sharp exchange of the amenities usual on such 
 occasions, which speedily resulted in more extreme 
 measures. Jim's opponent was not only older and 
 bigger than himself, but had apparently a decent 
 knowledge of using his fists, and though Jim 
 showed plenty of dash and courage, when at the 
 end of a couple of rounds the crowd separated them 
 he had had most perceptibly the worst of it, and 
 was fairly on the road to a pretty severe thrashing. 
 Sad at heart, he made his way slowly back towards 
 the Paddock. If ever anyone was conscious that 
 his first Derby day had proved a failure, it was Jim 
 Darley. His horse had been beaten, he had been a 
 good deal knocked about, he had lost his money, 
 and, worse than all, he was not only very late in 
 getting back from the errand on which he had 
 been sent, but he was in a sorry plight in which 
 to meet his master. Mr. Praze was a strict dis- 
 ciplinarian, and likely to be sharp on any one of 
 his servants who should misconduct himself on the 
 race-course. 
 
 Mr. Praze had excellent eyes, and practised ones 
 to boot in the matter of racing. He saw there was 
 a scrimmage at the Corner, and when a few seconds 
 later there smote upon his ear the cry of "The 
 favourite's out of it," and he could see nothing of 
 the black and scarlet hoops, he dropped his glasses, 
 turned to Bramber, and said quietly : w We're 
 done, Tom." 
 
THE FIKST GAME OF THE KUBBER. 137 
 
 " What on earth's happened to the ' King ' ? " 
 exclaimed Bramber. 
 
 " Temper," replied Mr. Praze. " Yes," he con- 
 tinued, as the number went up, " ' Chorister ' it is, 
 and Sam Wargrave is right once more. Now come 
 along to the Paddock, and let's hear what Wrench 
 has to say for himself." 
 
 The jockey's explanation was terse and to the 
 point. He was knocked into at the Corner, his 
 horse sulked, and he had never been able to induce 
 him to really gallop afterwards. The trainer said 
 nothing, but he made a pretty shrewd guess at the 
 real state of the case. He was still standing look- 
 ing at the " King," the spur-marks on whose flanks 
 showed that John Wrench had tried other means 
 than coaxing to persuade his horse to do its best, 
 when Jim Darley, vainly trying to staunch his still 
 bleeding nose, made his appearance. Mr. Praze 
 looked at him with intense disgust. 
 
 " You're a nice object," he said at last, " to 
 belong to a respectable racing stable. I sent you 
 away on business of some importance, and not to 
 amuse yourself by fighting the first quarrelsome 
 blackguard you found on the Downs. Looks as if 
 he had his fill of amusement, don't he ? " he con- 
 tinued, turning with a grin to Tom Bramber. 
 
 " I couldn't help it," replied young Darley. " It 
 ain't quite my fault, I was bound to fight. I didn't 
 take on a chap a good deal bigger than myself for 
 fun ; but I did what you sent me to do, Mr. Praze, 
 first." 
 
138 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 "Ah, then you can tell us exactly what took place 
 at Tattenhain Corner ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Jim, and then proceeded to give 
 a very graphic account of what he had there 
 witnessed. 
 
 " Temper, temper," moralized Mr. Praze, " there's 
 no calculating on man or horse when their temper 
 gets the better of them. There's John Wrench, in 
 his obstinacy, will go inside, exactly where he was 
 told not to go. Then there's the 'King,' the 
 moment he is interfered with, sulks, and won't try 
 another yard. Here's Jim Darley, who was sent to 
 look after the pair of them, must indulge in a quiet 
 little fight before he comes back. Well," he con- 
 tinued, glancing first at the boy's blood-stained 
 countenance and then at the " King's " spur-gored 
 flanks, "these two have been paid in full for 
 making exhibitions of themselves, and if somebody 
 would only horsewhip John Wrench within an inch 
 or two of his life, I should go to bed comparatively 
 happy. Temper, nothing but it, has lost you your 
 first Derby, Tom Bramber." 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " DOMESTIC DIFFERENCES." 
 
 What on earth " Cockchafer " was started for had 
 been a question much mooted at Epsom just before 
 the Derby. His owner was a gentleman utterly 
 unknown to the public, racing, indeed, under one 
 of those fictitious names, which the law permits to 
 
DOMESTIC DIFFERENCES. 139 
 
 be registered. He was a sporting publican who 
 only kept two or three very moderate horses, which 
 he usually ran on country race-courses ; that a horse 
 of his should be even entered for the Derby was a 
 pure chance. Mr. Praze, like other people, had 
 marvelled somewhat why this outsider had gone to 
 the post. His previous essays in moderate company 
 had shown that he had no pretensions to appear in 
 high-class contests. Mr. Praze marvelled no longer, 
 he understood it all now. " Cockchafer " had been 
 started for the express purpose of interfering with 
 " King of the Huns," and had fulfilled his mission 
 only too successfully. The imperturbable trainer 
 had been too long on the Turf to be surprised at 
 anything. He had seen many a good race lost by 
 a similar mischance, and many a good horse design- 
 edly defeated by the same means. That the owner 
 of " Cockchafer " had been a mere instrument in 
 the hands of others, had probably been paid to 
 start his horse, and was not even cognisant of the 
 orders given to his jockey, Mr. Praze had little 
 doubt. He regarded the whole business as the 
 work of what he inconsistently termed the " War- 
 grave lot." He admitted that he could not actually 
 connect Sam Wargrave with the two or three men 
 whose persistent opposition to a horse in the betting 
 was always the precursor of defeat. He confessed 
 that no case of malpractices had ever been brought 
 home to this little clique of speculators, but he 
 regarded them with profound distrust, and believed 
 them to be utterly unscrupulous. So far the 
 
140 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 " Wargrave lot " had hitherto never crossed his 
 path, and Mr. Praze was not given to trouble his 
 head about other people's doings, as long as they 
 did not interfere with himself. He was a dangerous 
 man to meddle with, giving much time and dis- 
 playing much ingenuity as a rule to the repayment 
 of those who ventured to turn the tables upon him. 
 On his return to Newmarket, Mr. Praze resolved to 
 devote himself to the return match with all the 
 energy he possessed, and to be " upsides " with his 
 enemies in some shape before the year should be 
 out. 
 
 That there should be a long talk between the 
 trainer and Tom Bramber over their mutual dis- 
 appointment may be easily imagined, that Mr. 
 Praze should give vent to the above sentiments 
 with somewhat vicious expression, and that Tom 
 Bramber should suggest the advisability of breaking 
 somebody's bones forthwith, but whether the owner, 
 rider, trainer, Sam Wargrave, or the Stock Ex- 
 change generally, was not quite so clear, was quite 
 in accordance with his character, but the trainer 
 quietly rebuked him : 
 
 " Leave it to me, Tom, leave it to me. Temper 
 lost you the Derby ; if the ' King ' hadn't sulked, 
 he was so much the best of them that he could 
 have won in spite of the scrimmage. I intend to 
 be quits with those thieves, never fear, but it's no 
 use gassing and blowing all over the place. What 
 a deal of good it would have done you if you had 
 only been apprenticed to me for five years when 
 
DOMESTIC DIFFERENCES. 141 
 
 you were a lad. There's nothing like a well- 
 managed racing stable to cure an infirmity of 
 temper." 
 
 "You don't seem to have been very successful 
 with the ' King ' at your academy, anyway," retorted 
 Tom grimly. 
 
 It was a cruel stab, and for a moment the trainer 
 winced. 
 
 " Ah," he said, with rather a forced grin, " Epsom 
 seems rather unlucky ground for us, or else I was 
 just going to quote the ' King's ' schoolfellow, Jim 
 Darley, as much improved in that respect." 
 
 The mention of Jim Darley recalled his sister 
 vividly to Tom's recollection, and his resolve to 
 prosecute his search high and low to discover Kate's 
 whereabonts, as soon as the great race at Epsom 
 should be over. It was over now, and a pretty fiasco 
 it had been as far as he was concerned, and he 
 supposed that would be the result of this next 
 undertaking. If he found her, it would only be to 
 discover that she was living with Eeginald Chace- 
 water, and he feared with no wedding-ring on her 
 finger. He had vowed to revenge her wrongs, 
 should that be the case, and it had begun to dawn 
 upon him how that was to be done was not so easy 
 to determine. He was interrupted by his com- 
 panion : 
 
 "Tom, you are wool-gathering," remarked Mr. 
 Praze. " It's no use your puzzling your brains about 
 how we're to be quits on these thieves — you had 
 best leave all that to me." 
 
142 A RACING- RUBBER. 
 
 " I should think it was very simple," rejoined 
 Bramber. " Our horse was so far beaten in the 
 Derby that he is sure to stand at longish odds for 
 the Leger. We know he wasn't beaten on his merits 
 at Epsom, and therefore as soon as betting begins in 
 earnest, we must back him to win us a good stake." 
 
 " Oh, no," said Mr. Praze, " that wouldn't quite 
 do. Plenty of people know that our horse was 
 interfered with as well as we do, and besides, Tom, 
 I must — I must indeed, give that Wargrave lot a 
 thorough lesson. Now I want you to promise me 
 one thing. You will say nothing, and you won't 
 make a single bet on the Leger. Leave all that to 
 me ; in fact, don't go near TattersalPs. I have got 
 it all in my head, and I think by the time the game 
 is played out, they'll be rather sorry that they took 
 it into their heads to meddle with James Praze." 
 
 Tom readily gave the required promise. At the 
 present moment he felt utterly sick of race- 
 horses and race-courses, and quite indifferent as to 
 the future of " King of the Huns." His mind was 
 absorbed with Kate Darley, and a great passion, 
 even when apparently hopeless, will often temporarily 
 extinguish a man's other faculties. Until he knew 
 what had befallen Kate Darley, Bramber felt that he 
 was incapable of attending to anything else. He 
 had gone back with the trainer to Newmarket, after 
 the Epsom carnival was over, and was to depart 
 that morning for Bottlesby, whence, after a couple 
 of days devoted to putting the affairs of his farm 
 in order, he intended to start upon his quest, though 
 
DOMESTIC DIFFEKENCES. 143 
 
 in what direction that search should be prosecuted 
 he was still in hopeless uncertainty. That the 
 losing of money bringeth sadness and depression, 
 and its converse hilarity and high spirits, is the 
 usually accepted result of all speculation. " Next 
 to the excitement of winning, give me losing," cried 
 Fox, and there spoke the spirit of the true gambler, 
 to whom the money was but as mere counters, it 
 was the game that interested him. How men take 
 their reverses is an interesting study to the observer 
 of human nature. Mr. Praze, for instance, has ac- 
 cepted his in a decidedly revengeful spirit, no 
 uncommon phase. 
 
 " Wealth is not everything," quoth the philo- 
 sopher. " No," retorts the cynic, " but it means so 
 much, that, give it me, and I'll make you a 
 present of what's left." If there was a party 
 present at the Derby that year, that ought to 
 have been thoroughly pleased with themselves, it 
 was the Wargraves. Mr. Wargrave had not only 
 won a very nice stake over "Chorister," but had 
 placed several of his friends on good terms with 
 themselves, by advising them to follow his example. 
 That " little snack " after the big race had turned 
 out the sort of luncheon that a man who knew what 
 good living was would expect to find at the great 
 Epsom carnival. The champagne had been iced to 
 a turn, and few of his many friends forgot to look 
 in upon his box. Clara, too, arrayed in what her 
 modiste vowed was a poem in millinery, conscious 
 
144 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 of looking her best, a winner of dozens of gloves 
 and other fripperies, and surrounded by a troop of 
 admirers, should have been in a state of beatitude, 
 and yet she was not. 
 
 "Man never is but always to be blest," applies 
 equally to women. To say that Clara Wargrave 
 was constant in her affections would be hardly de- 
 scriptive of that young lady's feelings, but she was 
 pertinacious in her desires, which perhaps answered 
 the same purpose. She had plenty of worshippers 
 at her shrine that afternoon, but they were all of 
 the wrong kind. She had set her heart, as we 
 know, upon rising in the social scale, and the 
 devotion of these young men from the City, and of 
 such did those who whispered soft nonsense into her 
 ears mostly consist, had no charm for her. She was 
 not in love with Eeginald Chace water, but she had 
 meant to marry him, and Clara Wargrave was un- 
 wearying in the pursuit of anything she set her mind 
 upon. 
 
 And more men are married in this way, than 
 suspected, or, at all events, if they have a vague 
 perception of the truth, could be brought to admit 
 it. Nobody better aware of this than Clara, no one 
 could have summed up more accurately the advan- 
 tages that could be arrayed on her side by such an 
 arrangement, and she was serenely confident in 
 eventual success, but Eeginald's death had put an 
 end to all this. Clara had been most honestly 
 grieved at his melancholy end. She really did like 
 him in her way, but it was not precisely that, there 
 
DOMESTIC DIFFERENCES. 145 
 
 was no one to take his place, there was no one of 
 her acquaintance who combined all that Reginald 
 represented, A husband, no, she need be under 
 no anxiety about that, there were plenty of these 
 young men from that City which she so despised, 
 and from which she sprang, who would gladly come 
 forward as suitors for the hand of Sam Wargrave's 
 daughter. But none of these at all promised to 
 realise Clara's ambitious dreams. Miss Wargrave 
 chafed because amongst her father's many guests 
 that afternoon there was not one of the class she 
 had set her heart upon. Now when Miss Wargrave 
 chafed, she was at no pains to disguise it from her 
 domestic circle. Her mother, partly from being of 
 a similar temperament, and partly from finding it 
 more comfortable to range herself on her daughter's 
 side than to place herself in opposition, generally 
 chafed with her, with the inevitable result that even 
 on an afternoon of such sybarite enjoyment as this, 
 one became conscious of a decided crumpling of the 
 rose-leaves. 
 
 Sam Wargrave's home life had grown unpleasant 
 to say the least of it, during the last few months. 
 It was rather hard upon him, but he was quite as 
 desirous for the success of Clara's schemes as that 
 young lady herself. It was in furtherance of that 
 end that he had purchased Carlingham Park, and it 
 was really not his fault that .Reginald Chacewater 
 should have proved the only suitable young man in 
 that neighbourhood. In London his acquaintances 
 and intimates were of the kind that had flocked to 
 
 10 
 
146 A RACING KUB'JBER. 
 
 his luncheon at Epsom, and as he replied testily to 
 the petulant upbraidings of his daughter upon his 
 never bringing anybody home to dinner who was 
 either worth talking to or desirable to know : 
 
 " I can't help it. It isn't my fault, I don't know 
 any nobs. I am quite willing to be chummy as 
 far as I am concerned, but I don't manage to get 
 the chance somehow here. We know everyone 
 round about Carlingham, and I've fed 'em, and, as 
 you know, done the thing properly ; as for there 
 being so few young people about, it's unlucky, but 
 it can't be helped. It's a thousand pities that 
 young Chacewater was drowned last winter, you 
 and he were just made for each other, my girl." 
 
 " I liked Reginald Chacewater, very much, papa, 
 it's very likely it would have ended in my marrying 
 him, if, poor fellow, he had only lived, but it's 
 not to be supposed that I can waste my life fretting 
 about a man who is no more. You know between 
 ourselves our position is by no means what it should 
 be. Now," continued this matter-of-fact young 
 lady, " the question is, how is this to be mended ? 
 As for Horace, he is a fool — you put him into a good 
 and expensive regiment, and make him a handsome 
 allowance, and nothing comes of it. He never 
 brings any good men home with him, and mark my 
 words, whenever he does marry, he'll do something 
 awfully foolish." 
 
 " I am afraid you are right, Clara," said Mr. War- 
 grave. " I've given him a fair start ; I can't give 
 him brains, but I'll tell you what I can do : if he 
 
DOMESTIC DIFFERENCES. 147 
 
 goes marrying without my consent, I can leave him 
 to keep his family on his own hook." 
 
 " Don't talk nonsense, papa," replied Miss War- 
 grave. " Horace will never be self-supporting, and 
 you know it. Now if we are to get on in life, it 
 must be through ME, and if I am to get on in life it 
 must be through my marriage " — there was no 
 diffidence in this young lady — "and to get married, 
 a girl must meet suitable young men. Now, papa, 
 that's your business, you must find them." 
 
 " Don't I keep telling you I can't," replied Mr. 
 Wargrave, now fairly at bay. " You wouldn't have 
 me advertise for them, would you ? Do you want 
 me to write begging letters all round the Peerage, 
 asking if they've a younger son, willing to wed a girl 
 whose father can give her fifty thousand pounds 
 — made in business ? " 
 
 " If you can't discuss the matter without being 
 coarsely abusive, papa, it is high time our conversa- 
 tion terminated," and as she spoke she rose from 
 her chair, and swept angrily out of the room. 
 
 Sam Wargrave looked grimly into the fire. 
 Similar scenes to this were now of constant occur- 
 rence between him and his daughter. The fair 
 Clara was generally given credit for much serenity 
 of temper, but it is compatible with one of those 
 serene tempers to become more exasperating than 
 one of the most hot-headed and passionate de- 
 scription. 
 
 u Ah," muttered Sam Wargrave, " I never thought 
 I'd be so sorry for poor young Chace water as I am 
 
 10* 
 
148 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 at this minute. That girl drives me just wild. 
 
 How the can I introduce her to fellows I don't 
 
 know ? She makes me just mad. Marry a swell, 
 I wish she could, nothing would please me better, 
 but to expect me to work the oracle is downright 
 foolishness. That poor Chacewater chap was just 
 the thing. What a thundering pity he ever learned 
 to skate ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 "BOTTLESBY GOSSIP." 
 
 There was a cry of woe amidst the members of 
 the Royal Hippodrome when the telegram an- 
 nouncing the winner of the Derby reached Chilling- 
 ham. Like other false prophets, Miss Darell was, to 
 speak figuratively, deposed from her ped, and the 
 subject of much good-humoured banter. As for 
 that supper, there were grim jests as to of what 
 that now Barmecide feast should consist. Some of 
 the humorists of the company drew pictures of the 
 cakes and ale and dainty dishes that should have 
 decked the board, and of the Lenten fare that, now 
 their golden dreams were dissipated, must be their 
 substitute. Kate's friends at Newmarket were 
 pronounced lying prophets, and everybody recalled 
 the wise old adage, " Don't never prophesy unless 
 you know." 
 
 Amongst this light-hearted company there was 
 infinitely more jest than lamentation over th^ir 
 disappointment. If nobod i ming 
 
BOTTLESBY GOSSIP. 149 
 
 very much, in like manner the reverse was of no 
 very serious consequence to any of them. Kate 
 herself was perhaps more disappointed than the 
 rest, and she mainly on her brother's account. Jim, 
 in his last letter, had been so confident about his 
 horse winning, and she felt sure that he would take 
 the failure of " King of the Huns " very much to 
 heart. 
 
 In the meantime Miss Darell was increasing 
 rapidly in favour with the Chillingham public, and 
 Eeginald Chacewater, since the night of her debut 
 had gradually dropped those precautions against 
 recognition that he had previously taken. He fre- 
 quently appeared in the evening now in the front of 
 the house, and he was very often Kate's escort in the 
 Public Gardens and on the Promenade. In spite of 
 her prudent resolutions, Kate seemed inclined to 
 let things take their course, at all events for the 
 present. Something like a fortnight had elapsed 
 since the black and crimson had come to such 
 infinite grief upon Epsom Downs. No great lapse 
 of time perhaps, but when young men and maidens 
 have arrived at that very confidential state into 
 which Reginald and Miss Darell had imperceptibly 
 glided, it becomes very like living in a house in 
 which the fire is smouldering, and may leap into 
 life and burn fiercely at any moment. If those 
 good resolutions of hers ever do recur to Kate, she 
 shuts her ears close to them now. She argues that 
 it is very pleasant, it must come to an end before 
 long, why should she not enjoy it while she may ? 
 
150 A KACING KUBBEK. 
 
 And when the separation does come, well, it is she 
 who will suffer most, and if she elects to bear the 
 pain, in return for a few days of happiness and 
 dreamy lotus-eating, it matters to no one but her- 
 self. Kate Darell rarely bestows a thought upon 
 that other admirer of hers ; that she knows of his 
 devotion it is needless to say. Whenever did a 
 girl overlook that, let the tribute be of ever so 
 small a value in her eyes. True, Tom Bramber as 
 yet has never declared himself; Kate knows, never- 
 theless, that she had but to hold up her finger to 
 bring the stalwart young farmer to her feet. She 
 has thought of his disappointment, as well as her 
 brother's, in connection with the Epsom failure. The 
 winning of the Derby she knows is a thing of which 
 most men feel proud, but still she has not felt any- 
 thing so much grieved for him as she has for Jim. In 
 fact Tom Bramber has as yet made no impression 
 upon her heart, and ruefully he acknowledges 
 to himself that she has given him no sign of 
 encouragement. Things are not what he conjec- 
 tures between her and Reginald, but let that matter 
 end as it may Tom is so far right, his love suit is 
 going very much awry. It is little use laying siege to a 
 heart already garrisoned, and Kate is in little mood 
 just now to listen to words of love from other lips 
 than those of the man who saved her from a watery 
 grave in the Regent's Park. 
 
 At length it became rumoured about Bottlesby 
 that Kate Darley had been seen. The report in the 
 first instance was vague and shadowy as such 
 
BOTTLESBY GOSSIP. 151 
 
 rumours usually are. She had taken up with some 
 strolling players. 
 
 " Pretty come down this for one who held her 
 head so high." 
 
 " It's only what might have been expected from 
 one of old Parley's children. It was all very well 
 for Madam to take her up to the Grange, and think 
 she was going to make a silk purse out of a sow's 
 ear, but Kate Darley always was a wild one, and it 
 wasn't likely she would ever settle down and get 
 her living as a decent girl should." Then it was 
 whispered about that Kate was riding in a circus. 
 Well, they did think she would never have come 
 to that, and after a little all this gossip came to Mrs. 
 Chacewater's ears. By dint of cross-questioning 
 here and there pretty sharply, she found, considerably 
 to her astonishment, that the source of all this talk 
 sprang from the Grange, and that it was from among 
 her own household this report had arisen. Mrs. 
 Chacewater at once made enquiries, and speedily 
 found that her cook had received a letter from a 
 girl now in service at Chillingham, who had formerly 
 been housemaid at the Grange, and that this girl, 
 who knew Kate Darley perfectly well by sight, had 
 seen her riding in the circus there. Mrs. Chace- 
 water was strangely moved at the intelligence. She 
 had cherished a hope, as we know, that her son was 
 still alive, and that could she but find Kate she 
 should also find Eeginald. Now this conviction 
 was shaken. Surely if Eeginald had eloped with 
 this girl he would never allow her get her living in 
 
152 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 a show, for, although liberal enough in her ideas, 
 Mrs. Chacewater had but hazy views concerning 
 the equestrian profession, and an undefined notion 
 that it was by no means respectable. She never 
 could have believed that Kate Darley could have 
 embarked on such a career. Nevertheless, now 
 Kate was discovered, she must ascertain if Eeginald 
 was with her. She could not well go herself, to do 
 that would be to arouse hopes on the part of her 
 husband which she knew might never be realised, 
 and she could devise no plausible excuse for 
 going to Chillingham. It was a delicate commission, 
 and she could think of no one to whom to entrust 
 it. While puzzling her brains as to who on earth 
 she could employ in this emergency, chance put an 
 instrument into her hands at which she grasped 
 with more avidity than prudence. 
 
 That luckless race over and Tom Bramber, once 
 more resolute to prosecute his search for Kate 
 Darley, returned to his task with more energy than 
 ever. That the gossip of Bottlesby should reach an 
 active man who was out and about all the parish 
 and its neighbourhood in a very short time was a 
 matter of course, and Tom's first thought was that 
 it was a thundering lie, and that could he but bring 
 it home to a man he would cram it down his vile 
 throat. Tom, whose theatrical experiences were 
 gathered from country fairs, held the u play actors " 
 in small esteem, but as it was only the tale of an 
 idle woman's tongue, he determined to proceed at 
 once to Chillingham and see for himself. This 
 
BOTTLESBY GOSSIP. 153 
 
 happened to reach the ears of Mrs. Chacewater, 
 through Miss Marton ; and being in complete 
 ignorance of Tom's passionate admiration for Kate, 
 she thought it possible to ask him to enquire into 
 the truth of the current report. It was odd, she 
 thought, that he should be going to Chillingham, 
 but Mr. Bramber was a busy man, and combined a 
 good bit of horse-dealing with his other avocations. 
 Chillingham was a popular hunting centre, and like 
 all such, as Mrs. Chacewater knew, a place in which 
 there was always a likelihood of either picking up 
 or disposing of a good horse. It was moreover very 
 accessible, being only about three hours journey 
 from Bottlesby Station. She accordingly sent down 
 word to Tom Bramber that she desired to see him 
 before he went away, and the young farmer duly 
 presented himself at the Grange in reply to her 
 summons. 
 
 " Gfood morning, Mr. Bramber," said the lady, 
 " only you must be sick of condolences or I would 
 say how sorry we all were for your disappointment." 
 
 "Yes, ma'am," rejoined Tom, "It was hard luck 
 to know you ought to have won, to know you had 
 the best horse in the race, and then to be beaten is 
 rather rough on one. We must only hope for 
 better luck another time." 
 
 "And may that time come soon," said Mrs. 
 Chacewater. 
 
 " Thank you," replied Tom, " but the picking up 
 a colt good enough is not so easy," and then he 
 pondered what it was that Mrs. Chacewater wanted 
 
154 A KACING- RUBBER. 
 
 with him, for that he had not been sent for to 
 discuss the past Derby he felt sure. 
 
 " I heard casually from Miss Marton last night that 
 you are going up to Chillingham, Mr. Bramber." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," replied Tom. " I am starting by 
 the twelve train." 
 
 " You have of course heard the talk in the 
 village." 
 
 " Yes," he returned sternly. si A lie set afloat by 
 some evil-tongued old woman. I only wish it had 
 been a man who had said it." 
 
 " Dear me," replied Mrs. Chacewater. " I had no 
 idea that you took such a warm interest in Kate 
 Darley." 
 
 " You see," stammered Tom, rather abashed, " I 
 have known 'em since they were quite little ones. 
 I have known them all their lives, and so take a 
 sort of interest in them." 
 
 He was not thirty, and though she still did not 
 grasp the truth, yet it did strike Mrs. Chacewater 
 that there was something incongruous in his fatherly 
 interest in such a pretty girl of eighteen as Kate 
 Darley. 
 
 " They are a bit wild both of them, but Kate is 
 far above mixing herself up in any such brazened 
 foolery as that." 
 
 « I quite agree with you, Mr. Bramber. Kate 
 Parley is far too good for such a life, nor do I 
 believe she would give pain to those who are at- 
 tached to her by taking up such a mode of earning her 
 living. I am as anxious as I am sure you are to 
 
BOTTLESBY GOSSIP. 155 
 
 contradict this report which is circulating in the 
 village, and I wish to be able to contradict it with 
 authority — you understand." 
 
 " I think so," replied Bramber quietly. 
 
 " It will be no trouble to you to give up one 
 evening and spend it at the Eoyal Hippodrome at 
 Chillingham, and convince yourself that Kate 
 Darley takes no part in the performance. On your 
 return I trust we shall be able to give it a positive 
 denial." 
 
 " All right. I quite understand what you want, 
 ma'am. Have no fear but what I will do your 
 errand, for it happens also to be what takes me to 
 Chillingham." And then Tom bade Mrs. Chacewater 
 good morning, and left that lady no little disturbed, 
 for it had dawned upon her at last that Mr. 
 Bramber was in love with Kate, and that if her old 
 theory should prove correct, and Keginald have 
 been the companion of her flight, there was likeli- 
 hood of hot words between the two men, if 
 they met, as meet they were almost bound to do, 
 should gossip prove true. Was Eeginald with this 
 girl, and if so, what were the relations between 
 them ? Know whether she was right or wrong in 
 that fixed idea of hers she must, but she shuddered 
 at the idea of a fracas between the two men. She 
 had no fear for her son physically — what Chace- 
 water had ever felt that, or blenched for the scions 
 of the house on that account ? but she shrank from 
 the disgrace of an open scandal such as this would 
 be should Reginald and young Bramber come to 
 
156 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 blows over this girl. A pretty story that would be 
 to have flying about the county, and then she 
 wondered what else she could do. Tom had said he 
 meant finding out the truth concerning Kate, and 
 if, as she now believed, he was thoroughly in love 
 with her, it was not likely he would falter in his 
 determination. It was done now, and she must 
 abide the result. From the word spoken and the 
 arrow sped, there is no retraction. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 "a parting kiss." 
 
 Tom Bramber on his way to Chillingham presents 
 a very different front from that he has shown about 
 Bottlesby. There he has boldly denounced the 
 whole scandal as an infamous lie, he has told Mrs. 
 Chacewater that he felt sure there was not a word 
 of truth in it, that Kate Darley was far too proud a 
 girl, to go before the public in that fashion or to 
 associate herself with a lot of mere strollers ; still 
 adhering closely to that belief of his in which all 
 shows, circuses, and theatres are a mere ornamental 
 fringe to fairs general] v, where the shows are con- 
 ducted under canvas, and the performers dwell in 
 huts, Tom regards these latter as very little superior 
 to the gipsies. It has been all very well to bluster 
 it out at Bottlesby, but in his heart of hearts is a 
 horrible conviction that it is true. What could 
 have possessed Kate to take up with such a life he 
 cannot even guess. Still stranger, what could have 
 
A PAKTTNG KISS. 157 
 
 induced Keginald Chacewater to mix himself up 
 with such a lot of vagabonds ? It must be borne 
 in mind that Tom has never seen the inside of 
 either a regular theatre or a circus. He moves 
 about the country a good deal, and has much expe- 
 rience of country towns, but then small country 
 towns in an agricultural neighbourhood rarely boast 
 of a theatre, a corn exchange or a big room at the 
 principal hotel sufficing for such entertainers as are 
 speculative enough to venture amongst them. Al- 
 though he has been to Chillingham before, yet it is 
 rather out of his beat, and though it certainly does 
 boast a theatre, the building stands in an inferior 
 part of the town, is poorly attended, and keeps its 
 proprietor in a state of chronic insolvency. 
 
 On his arrival he puts up at a quiet commercial 
 hotel in one of the leading thoroughfares, and then 
 strolls off to discover the whereabouts and take 
 stock of the Eoyal Hippodrome. He finds it in the 
 Public Gardens, a large building, dedicated in the 
 summer chiefly to flower shows, concerts, etc. On 
 to this the enterprising Mr. Slater has built canvas 
 stables, made a Eing in its centre, and transformed 
 the whole place into a bright and handsome Hippo- 
 drome. The doors are at present closed to the 
 public, for it is the intermediate time between the 
 afternoon and evening performances. Outside them, 
 however, are gaily printed bills of the entertain- 
 ment, with a list of the artistes appended thereto. 
 Tom eagerly scans this latter, and his heart gives 
 an exultant throb as he finds ther< is no i ion of 
 
158 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 Miss Darley on the list. Still he has come to Chil- 
 lingham to clear up this story, he will witness the 
 performance this evening, and ascertain with his 
 own eyes that Kate Darley takes no part in it. It 
 will be time enough on the morrow to make 
 enquiries as to whether she ever was connected with 
 it. When Tom takes his seat that night he is 
 amazed at the splendours of the building. Still 
 more is he thunderstruck at the large audience 
 that are gathered together, and though still scanning 
 each fair equestrienne narrowly, he has well nigh 
 put away from his mind the idea of Kate having 
 anything to do with the company, and is carried 
 away with enthusiasm at the varied and clever 
 performance. At length there is a slight pause, 
 broken only by the badinage which passes between 
 the Clown and the King-master. He can see that 
 the audience is eager and excited, and hurriedly 
 asks his neighbour what is coming. 
 
 " Ah, it's the first time you have been here," was 
 the reply. " Coming ? Why, Miss Darell ! Who's 
 she ? Well, I reckon she's about the prettiest girl 
 you ever saw or ever will see outside of an 'oss," and 
 in another moment, Kate, looking most bewitching 
 in the nattiest of hats and the daintiest of habits, 
 cantered into the Ring on her famous black trick 
 horse " Beppo," and commenced to go through her 
 act of high-art horsemanship. Three or four times, 
 in obedience to imperceptible signals from his mis- 
 tress, did " Beppo " go kicking and backing round 
 the Ring, in a manner sufficient to even discompose 
 
A PARTING KISS. 159 
 
 a western " Cowboy," during all of which Kate sat 
 fixed and immovable, as if she were a very part of 
 her. horse. Then at a touch of her hand, after two 
 or three saucy bounds, he quieted down and went 
 through all the tricks of the manege-, and then, 
 amidst thunders of applause, Kate bowed gracefully 
 to her audience and quitted the ring. 
 
 As for Tom Bramber, he sat like one transfixed. 
 Never, he thought, had he seen Kate Darley look so 
 lcvely, Her horsemanship had always bewitched 
 him, but he had never seen her ride like that. If 
 the Bottlesby scandal were true, he had pictured 
 her in short spangled skirts jumping clumsily 
 through paper hoops, after the manner of the fair 
 equestriennes he had witnessed at the two or three 
 fourth-rate circuses which it had so far been his lot 
 to see. Jumping through a hoop can, even in the 
 hands of a most accomplished artiste, never be a 
 graceful performance. It is not like skating, where 
 grace is usually the result of practice. Tom had 
 naturally a keen eye for both grace and beauty, and 
 the perfect ease with which Kate sat her horse, and 
 the way her light figure swayed with his every 
 movement, was to him what the picked picture of 
 the Royal Academy is to the connoisseur, a thing to 
 feast your eyes upon as long as you may. Like the 
 prophet who blessed what he came to denounce, so 
 Tom, who had come sternly determined to condemn, 
 was simply lost in admiration. He felt he could see 
 no more, no sooner was it evident that Miss Darell 
 did not intend to reappear than he rose and made 
 
160 A RACING RUBBER 
 
 his way out of the theatre. He must get into the 
 fresh air ; he wanted to think. What did it all mean ? 
 Yes, Kate Darley was a circus-rider, but a circus-rider 
 of a very different pattern from that which he had 
 imagined. Reginald Chacewater too, where was he ? 
 He certainly had not figured in the King ; but if 
 Kate was with him, how was it he allowed her 
 to night after night appear in public ? Could it be 
 that he was all wrong in this supposition of his, and 
 that the disappearance of the two was merely a 
 coincidence that had taken place in utter inde- 
 pendence of each other ? One thing was certain, 
 to Chillingham he had come, and at Chillingham 
 he would remain, until he had ascertained whether 
 Eeginald Chacewater was in the place, and, if so, what 
 was the connection between him and Kate Darley. 
 
 For the next two or three days Tom Bramber 
 pertinaciously attended every performance in the 
 Royal Hippodrome, and filled up his spare time by 
 making enquiries in every direction for a Mr. 
 Chacewater. Six months had elapsed since the 
 accident in the Regent's Park, and the names of 
 the sufferers were well-nigh forgotten ; but the fate 
 of Mr. Chacewater had been so much canvassed at 
 the time that here and there a recollection of the 
 name still remained in men's memories. The public 
 had long ago made up its mind that he was drowned 
 then and there, and that the theory put forward at 
 the time of his being still alive, was merely one of 
 those hallucinations which occasionally possess the 
 near relatives of the dead, loth to believe that one 
 
A PAETING KISS. 161 
 
 loved so dearly had been snatched from them, and 
 it regarded Tom as a man slightly touched in the 
 head. But it was not long before it occurred to 
 Tom that such enquiries were useless. If Kate 
 now went under the name of Miss Darell, the 
 chances were that Eeginald had also a nom de 
 guerre, and that the most likely way to come across 
 him was to keep as strict a watch as he was able on 
 Kate herself. He had attended half-a-dozen per- 
 formances at the Hippodrome, and his assiduous 
 attendance soon attracted the notice of the officials 
 at the doors. It was soon further remarked that if 
 he sometimes came late, and at others left early, he 
 never missed one minute of Miss Darell's turn. 
 This soon became talked of among the company, 
 and Kate was rallied not a little about her unknown 
 admirer. As yet she had not seen him, and was not 
 best pleased to hear that she had one. She did not 
 know why, but she had an undefined sense of 
 danger in the air. She felt uneasy about this man, 
 who, she was told, never took his eyes off her while 
 she was in the Eing. It could matter nothing to 
 her, but it might mean harm to Eeginald. What if 
 it should be somebody in search of him, and what if 
 Eeginald should fly and once more endeavour to 
 evade his pursuers ? He was evidently in hiding 
 from some one. Ah, she did not want that just 
 yet. Not three weeks ago, and she had thought it 
 best that she and Eeginald should part, but there 
 was no need for that just now, she argued. It would 
 be quite time for him to 90 when he said anything 
 
 11 
 
162 A KACING KUHBEE. 
 
 foolish. His friendship was very dear to her, and 
 
 then Well, Kate Darley flushed and found she 
 
 could humbug herself no longer. Friendship for- 
 sooth ! She was falling over head and ears in love 
 with the man. 
 
 The gossip of the coulisses quickly reached 
 Eeginald's ears, and was spoken of between Kate 
 and himself, but the former had made up her mind 
 that before she avowed her knowledge of who 
 Eeginald was, she would, at all events, endeavour to 
 have a look at her mysterious admirer. Chacewater 
 had succeeded in concealing his identity for so long 
 that he had pretty well lost all apprehension of 
 being discovered, and, though curious to see him, 
 had no suspicion of who Kate's admirer was, nor 
 that he in any way concerned himself. He deter- 
 mined that night that he would attend the 
 Hippodrome and have a look at this unknown 
 admirer of Miss Darell. He was always there, and 
 any one of the officials could point him out. But it 
 so happened that he was so absorbed in his work 
 that night that he took little count of time, and 
 when, starting from his writing-table, he rushed 
 round to the Hippodrome, he found that the hour 
 appointed for Katie's turn was long since past, and 
 they told him at the door that she had already left 
 the King. For a moment he stood undecided, then, 
 having determined not to go in front of the house, 
 he made his way round behind the scenes, with a 
 view of seeing Kate before she left the circus. Miss 
 Darell, attired in her walking dress, met him in the 
 
A. PARTING KISS. 163 
 
 passage outside the dressing-rooms, and enquired 
 anxiously if he had been in front that evening. 
 
 He replied in the negative. 
 
 " Because, Eeginald," she replied, " my mys- 
 terious admirer is no other than Tom Bramber, who 
 knows you as well as I do. What your object is in 
 letting all the world believe you dead is no business 
 of mine, and I will keep your secret ; but rest 
 assured that if Tom Bramber catches sight of you 
 he will recognise you at once." 
 
 " Why, who on earth are you ? " he exclaimed, not 
 a little surprised to find that he was known. 
 
 " Kate Darley," she replied, " the daughter of 
 one of your father's tenants, and formerly governess 
 to your nieces at the Grange. My lips are closed ; 
 but if you want to remain unknown, take my advice 
 and leave Chillingham at once." 
 
 " And what do you intend to do ? " he asked gravely. 
 
 " Stay here," she replied impatiently. " Bid me 
 good-bye, and go," and as she spoke she extended 
 her hand. 
 
 " I don't want to be discovered just yet most 
 certainly," he replied, as he pressed her hand. 
 " G-ood-bye, Kate my dearest," and drawing her 
 suddenly to him, he pressed a warm kiss upon her 
 lips. st Once more good-bye, dear. Keep my secret." 
 Another warm squeeze of the hand, and he was gone. 
 
 " Yes, Reginald, I will keep your secret," said 
 the girl, " till it pleases you to discover it. Ah," 
 she murmured to herself, " Heaven grant I may 
 only keep my own." 
 
 11* 
 
164 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 "TOM GETS HIS ANSWER." 
 
 That Tom Bramber was no adept at the detective 
 
 business was obvious. His being so slow to 
 
 recognise that the fugitives would most likely have 
 
 to be sought under assumed names was proof of 
 
 this ; but the most important mistake he made in 
 
 the new line he had taken up was in forgetting 
 
 that he was perfectly well-known to those he was in 
 
 search of, and in taking no precautions to prevent 
 
 their becoming aware that he was on their track. 
 
 The natural consequence of this had come about. 
 
 Reginald knew of his presence at Chillingham 
 
 before Bramber had discovered him, and at once 
 
 took steps for the prevention of that by leaving 
 
 the town. All unconscious, Tom steadily pursued 
 
 his quest. He hovered about the Hippodrome, 
 
 firmly persuaded that where Kate was, there also he 
 
 should find young Chacewater. He had scraped 
 
 acquaintance with some of the men connected with 
 
 the troupe, and haunted the place at all hours, both 
 
 during the performances and at odd times, much as 
 
 Reginald had been in the habit of doing, but with 
 
 this marked difference, that whereas Reginald was 
 
 privileged to enter the building and gossip with the 
 
 performers during the morning rehearsal, Tom 
 
 never passed the doors except as one of the paying 
 
TOM GETS HIS ANSWEE. 165 
 
 public. In his somewhat clumsy way, he began to 
 push enquiries with regard to the man he sought. 
 He knew by this it was useless to ask after him 
 under his own name, and as he was afraid to be too 
 direct in his questioning, he was at first unsuccess- 
 ful; but the abrupt disappearance of Waters was 
 naturally spoken about in the Hippodrome, and at 
 once attracted Tom's attention. Having once 
 obtained his clue, it was easy to put questions as to 
 what manner of man this Waters was, and from the 
 description given of him, Bramber had little doubt 
 that Waters was the assumed name of the missing 
 man. He learnt, moreover, that Waters, though 
 not belonging to the troupe, was quite one of them- 
 selves, that he disappeared without saying good-bye 
 to anyone, nor did anyone know what had become 
 of him. "Unless," added the clown reflectively, 
 " it's Miss Darell. He was uncommonly sweet upon 
 her. She may know." 
 
 " Do you suppose he has left the place ? " en- 
 quired Tom. " I have a strong idea that I used to 
 know this Waters at one time." 
 
 " Safe to have done, I should think," replied the 
 clown. " Why he was never out of the place. We 
 used to see him regularly every day." 
 
 " Ah," said Tom, " if it was the man I mean I 
 should have known him again, but I have never set 
 eyes on him, and I have been here pretty often too, 
 the last week." 
 
 " Ah, yes," said the other ; " but he hardly ever 
 came in to see the performances ; he used to come 
 
166 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 in in the morning at rehearsals to chat with us 
 all, and Miss Darell in particular. He had known 
 her before she joined us, though she only began 
 here, and we can't make out anything about her, 
 she must have quarrelled with her friends we think. 
 She seems to have been brought up a cut above us ; 
 not that there's any confounded nonsense about 
 her, she is good friends with us all, and we all like 
 her." 
 
 All this was confirmation strong of what Tom 
 suspected. There could be no doubt about it. 
 Eeginald had run away with Kate Darley, and they 
 were living here together as Mr. and Mrs. Waters. 
 Were they man and wife ? That was the question. 
 If so, his mission was ended. And, hard though it 
 might be, that he should have loved, and loved in 
 vain, still he could bear it, and wish her happiness 
 with all his heart. It was not likely a girl would 
 hesitate between the heir of Chacewater Grange and 
 his tenant. He only wanted to assure himself of 
 that, and then — well, he would go back to Bottlesby, 
 sell off everything, give up the farm, go away, 
 and try to forget. His views about the circus-riders 
 had changed considerably during the past week, and 
 as he feasted his eyes daily on Kate's pretty face 
 and graceful figure, he came to the conclusion that 
 his love was hopeless, and became as despondent as 
 men in their youth are wont to be when their love 
 is rejected. But how was he to ascertain this ? He 
 had thought it all so easy when he started from 
 home, and now he did not know exactly what to do. 
 
TOM GETS HIS ANSWER. 167 
 
 His intention had been to confront the young 
 Squire and drag the truth out of him, and whether 
 Reginald willed it or no, he had felt pretty sure he 
 should be able to convince himself on the point he 
 wanted to know. But now, just as he had dis- 
 covered him, Reginald had again vanished ; and to 
 get the truth from a man you must, at all events, 
 be able to get at him. The one way left him was 
 to question Kate Darley ; and Bramber was much 
 too earnest in his love not to think of that with 
 some apprehension. Kate was a high-spirited young 
 woman, and, as he knew, of a fearlessly independent 
 character. It was quite likely that she would 
 fiercely resent any meddling in her affairs on his 
 part. If he wanted to know whether his love was 
 hopeless, he most certainly did not wish to destroy 
 such small chance as might remain to him by 
 involving himself in a bitter quarrel with Kate. In 
 fact, never was man more perplexed than Tom 
 Bramber, as to what his next move should be. That 
 his own chance was an utterly forlorn one, he could 
 not but admit. What object could Reginald Chace- 
 water have for pretending to be dead, and taking 
 an assumed name, but that he had run away with 
 Kate ? And then as he mused on that vow of 
 vengeance that he had breathed, should Kate's 
 finger wear no wedding-ring, it for the first time 
 dawned upon him that where a woman loves, she 
 has scant thanks for those who seek to avenge her 
 wrongs for her. And so, sore perplexed, Tom 
 Bramber gazed daily with increasing admiration at 
 
163 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 Miss Darell's spirited performance, but still hesitated 
 to seek an interview with her. 
 
 The pertinacious watch that Tom was keeping 
 upon Miss Darell quickly attracted the attention of 
 the employes of the Hippodrome. They saw that 
 he hovered about the stage door even to see her 
 come out, and, at a respectful distance, sometimes 
 followed her home. All this was told to Kate, and 
 was the subject of some jesting on the part of her 
 companions. It irritated the girl ; it was exas- 
 perating to have her footsteps dogged in this 
 manner. She never saw him herself, except when 
 she was in the Ring, and then she would at times 
 catch sight of him in the front seats. She grew 
 more angry with him every day. What business 
 had Mr. Eramber to come down to Chillingham and 
 pry into her life ? She was nothing to him ; he had 
 never even told her that he loved her, but she knew 
 it very well for all that. If it hadn't been for his 
 coming here, where he was not wanted, Reginald 
 might have been still in Chillingham, and there 
 was no blinking the fact that she missed him dread- 
 fully. It had been very pleasant, that last week or 
 two of lotus-eating. There was nobody now to stroll 
 about the Promenade with, to take her to the band, 
 or even for an occasional drive on Sundays, that is 
 to say no one she cared about, for there were 
 plenty of young men in the Company of the Royal 
 Hippodrome quite willing, at the slightest en- 
 couragement, to become Miss Darell's cavalier on 
 such ocasions. But though upon good terms with 
 
TOM GETS HIS ANSWER. 169 
 
 her companions, and well liked, she was intimate 
 with none of them, with the exception of Minnie 
 Price, the girl she had supplanted, who was still 
 not sufficiently recovered from her tedious illness to 
 take her place again in the bill ; so while Tom 
 Bramber still hesitated, and was casting about how 
 best he might question her, and so ascertain from 
 her own lips the truth of that matter which had 
 brought him to Chillingham, Kate's wrath waxed 
 hotter and hotter. His conduct, she said spitefully, 
 was aggravating in the extreme — how dare he play 
 the spy upon her like that ? Let her only meet 
 him face to face, and she would tell him frankly 
 what she thought of his behaviour ; and then 
 Kate thought ruefully of that other, for whom 
 the appearance of Tom had been the signal to 
 vanish. 
 
 At length Tom determined to write and ask 
 Kate at what time it would suit her to see him. It 
 was a good, manly letter. He told her that if she 
 wished to know by what right he had traced and 
 followed her to Chillingham, for he made no dis- 
 guise of his having done so, it was by the right of 
 an honest man to ask the woman he loved, and 
 would fain marry, if that were possible, and hear 
 her answer from her own lips. He thought that her 
 reply might give him some clue to her feelings, if 
 not a hint of how matters stood between her and 
 Keginald. His heart beat quick, as love's mes- 
 senger, in the prosaic form of the Boots of the 
 hotel, placed a note from Kate in his hand. His 
 
170 A RACING RUBBER, 
 
 anticipations were disappointed. Miss Darell's re* 
 joinder was laconic in the extreme : 
 " I will see you to-morrow at twelve. 
 
 " Sincerely yours, 
 
 "Kate." 
 
 Tom smiled grimly as he read it. " There's no 
 chance for me," he muttered. " I was a fool ever 
 to think there was. As Praze would say, there's 
 temper in every one of those half-a-dozen words. 
 There will be a regular storm to-morrow, I suppose, 
 and much good I shall have done by trying to put 
 things straight. I wasn't very hopeful of my own 
 chance, but I did think I might either be a help to 
 Kate in her need, or able to offer her my honest 
 congratulations with a sore heart though it might 
 be. Now I suppose it will all end in a quarrel, 
 everything has gone wrong and going wrong — d — 
 it all, Praze is right. Temper's at the bottom of 
 all the mischief in this world. There's the ' King ' 
 lost his temper and got beat, Jim Darley lost his 
 and got thrashed, Kate and I are going to lose 
 ours to-morrow and quarrel. If I had only come 
 across the young squire here there would have been 
 a deuce of a row between us and then the thing 
 would have been complete. What a fool I was to 
 come here, what a downright idiot a chap makes 
 of himself when he gets to feel real bad about a 
 girl." 
 
 Very pretty looked Kate the next morning, as 
 Bramber was shown into her little drawing-room. 
 
TOM GETS HIS ANSWER. 171 
 
 She rose to receive him as he entered and, after a 
 haughty inclination of her head, stood erect, a 
 slight flush upon her cheeks, and the light of battle 
 in her flashing grey eyes. The summer sun 
 glistened on her close-coiled silken tresses, reflecting 
 in the golden light the varied shadows of the 
 raven's wing. 
 
 " You wished to see me, Mr. Bramber," she said, 
 " and I most certainly wished to see you. I wished 
 to know what is the meaning of this unmanly 
 pursuit, under what pretext you seek to pry into my 
 affairs, by what authority you mix yourself up in my 
 comings or goings ? " 
 
 " By the authority of love, the great love I bear 
 you must be my warrant for having followed you 
 here." 
 
 " And do you suppose, sir, that because you 
 happen to admire a girl, it gives you a right to 
 track her as if she were a hunted criminal ? Has 
 it never occurred to you," she continued almost 
 contemptuously, "that a girl may reckon other 
 admirers beside yourself ? " 
 
 " Kate, Kate, only hear me ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " And that if they all," she continued mockingly, 
 " watched over me with the untiring vigilance of 
 yourself, life would become unbearable, intolerable ? " 
 
 He writhed beneath her merciless tongue, for he 
 was well aware that he had no plea to justify the 
 strict supervision he had exercised over her during 
 the past week. 
 
 u One question only, Kate," he replied in a low 
 
172 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 voice. " Answer me that and I will trouble you no 
 more." 
 
 " With a view to that latter relief, say at once 
 what is it you wish to know." 
 
 " Are you Eeginald Chacewater's wife ? " he 
 rejoined doggedly. 
 
 " And pray how does that concern you, I should 
 like to know ? " And then as the whole significance 
 of the question crossed her mind, the blood rushed 
 to her temples, and she half bowed her head. Then 
 quickly raising it again : if No, I am not, and after 
 the insult implied by your question, I trust we 
 shall meet no more," and, with the slightest 
 obeisance to him, Kate rang the bell in token of his 
 dismissal. 
 
 That scandal was busy with her name had never 
 as yet crossed Kate's mind. That when she had 
 disappeared it should be at once concluded that she 
 had a companion in her flight, and that in her own 
 neighbourhood she should be held to have shared 
 the usual fate of girls who love not wisely but too 
 well, had never entered her head, but that Tom 
 Bramber should not only suspect Eeginald of being 
 that companion, but further conjecture that she was 
 not his wife but his victim, filled her with confusion. 
 She had maintained a proud front in Tom's 
 presence, but she was bowed to the dust with 
 shame to think that she could be believed to hold 
 such a position; she ground her teeth, and the 
 passionate tears welled up into her eyes as she 
 thought of it. And if this had occurred to Tom 
 
TOM GETS HIS ANSWER. 173 
 
 Bramber, why not to everyone else at Bottlesby ? 
 Bramber was doubtless only repeating what all 
 Bottlesby was saying. Keginald was like the ostrich, 
 he thought he had hidden himself, and that all the 
 world believed he was dead. The world was only 
 laughing at him, and, worse still, jeering at her. 
 Dead ! No, young Chacewater had run off with the 
 daughter of one of his father's tenants, and had 
 pretended to be drowned. Funny idea, but Reggie 
 was always a little eccentric. And then she thought 
 of how tongues were wagging round her old home. 
 How should she ever dare to look her stern old 
 father in the face again ? Tom Bramber, yes, he 
 was loyal still, though she had flouted him, had 
 asked, despairingly though it might be, whether she 
 was Reginald Chacewater's wife. Was it likely that 
 question would occur to anyone about Bottlesby ? 
 They would scoff at the idea of her being anything 
 but his mistress. What did they think of her at the 
 Grange ? It was not true. She was innocent, but 
 how was she to prove it ? Kate not only realised, 
 but even exaggerated the difficulty of her position. 
 She and Reginald had disappeared simultaneously, 
 and were both discovered at last living at Chilling- 
 ham. Who would believe her assertion that all this 
 was pure accident, that they were acquaintances, and 
 that till the very last Reginald had only known her as 
 Miss Darell of the Royal Hippodrome. The sole person 
 who could corroborate her story was Reginald him- 
 self, and at the present moment she had no idea of 
 where he was. Still, surely she should hear from 
 
174 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 him betore long; now he was known to be alive, to 
 attempt further concealment would be useless. It 
 was not likely lAat Bramber would make any secret 
 of his being still alive, and that clearly ascertained, 
 she thought his discovery would speedily follow. It 
 was all very well for her to disappear, it was not 
 likely that anyone would take much trouble to find 
 her, and yet Tom Bramber had done so. With 
 Keginald Chacewater it was different. The son of a 
 rich country gentleman, vigorous search was sure to 
 be made for him. In the eyes of Kate Darley, the 
 lords of Chacewater Grange were of much greater 
 importance than the world generally gave them 
 credit for, and so the girl comforted herself that 
 Eeginald would speedily be compelled to emerge 
 from his obscurity, and would then in all honesty 
 bear witness that accidental and innocent had been 
 their brief acquaintance. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Tom Bramber returned to Bottle sby with a heavy 
 heart. He had learnt all that he wanted to know, 
 and at present there was no more to be done. That 
 first dream of vengeance that had filled his mind, 
 that determination to right Kate's wrongs at any 
 cost, had as we have seen evaporated. He had 
 found that it was easier to imagine than to put in 
 practice, and that it was very questionable whether 
 Kate would be even grateful to him should he 
 
"MY SON IS YET ALIVE." 175 
 
 attempt it. He had made up his mind to leave his 
 old farm. Whether he should take another in some 
 other part of the country or whether he should 
 emigrate to Canada or Australia, he did not know, 
 but he would leave Bottlesby. As for what course 
 he should take with regard to Reginald, weil, Ue 
 had plenty of time to think that over while 
 arranging his affairs. One thing was certain, that 
 Reginald had left Chillingham, and that, even if 
 he would, at present he did not know where to 
 find him. That Mrs. Chacewater would send for 
 him te know how he had prospered on her errand, 
 on hearing of his return, he felt quite certain. He 
 resolved to spare her all needless trouble on that 
 point, and betook himself to the Grange the next 
 morning. 
 
 "Well, Mr. Bramber," said the lady, their 
 greetings once exchanged, " have you found Kate 
 Darley?" 
 
 "Yes," he replied, "and what the village says 
 about her is true in the main. She is a rider in a 
 circus, but there are circuses and circuses, as I dare- 
 say you know, ma'am, and this is no such miserable 
 show as I have been accustomed to see at the fairs 
 round about." 
 
 " I understand," said Mrs. Chacewater. " Yes, 1 
 have seen circuses in London and other big towns 
 and know, of course, they are very different from 
 those you see at country fairs. Is she well, and did 
 she ask after us ? It is certainly not the life I 
 should have either suggested or approved of for her. 
 
176 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 had I been consulted. I can only hope she may do 
 well in it. Thank you for making enquiries for me. 
 I hope you prospered on your own errand ? " And 
 the lady somewhat emphasised her last words. 
 
 "The less said about it, ma'am, the better," 
 returned Tom, " I wanted to know something, 
 and I know it now. But there are some things 
 there is not much comfort in knowing," and Tom 
 stopped abruptly. 
 
 Mrs. Chacewater waited for him to say more, but 
 Tom remained mute. He had got to tell her that her 
 son lived, and he was turning over in his own mind 
 how best to do so, for he had not an idea that she 
 suspected the fact, and had a hazy recollection of 
 grievous results produced by the announcement of 
 such tidings too bluntly. 
 
 " Excuse me, Mr. Bramber," said the lady at last, 
 " did you ask Kate Darley to marry you ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am," replied Tom almost roughly, " nor 
 am I at all likely to do so," and once more he 
 relapsed into silence. 
 
 " I have no wish to intrude further into your 
 confidence, but is that all that you have got to tell 
 me ? " And she looked almost hungrily into his face. 
 
 " No," said Tom. " I have something very im- 
 portant to tell you. I have a great bit of news for 
 you, if you think you can bear it, if you can promise 
 not to go fainting or anything of that sort." 
 
 She nodded assent. 
 
 " Mr. Keginald is alive. He escaped all right 
 that day last January in the Regent's Park." 
 
"MY SON IS YET ALIVE." 177 
 
 Mrs. Chacewater turned very pale. She had 
 hoped this thing, but the confirmation of that dim 
 and distant hope made her heart stand still. Her 
 first-born was restored to her. What mattered all 
 else ? 
 
 " Is he well ? " she asked, in an almost awe-struck 
 whisper. 
 
 " I've not seen him," replied Bramber, " but there 
 is no possible doubt of his being alive and perfectly 
 well. He was in Chillingham till a few days ago, 
 and I spoke with those who knew him, and had seen 
 him frequently. Where he may be now, I can't say, 
 but he is most certainly alive." 
 
 " Thank you very much, Mr. Bramber. I will ask 
 you to leave me now, for I want to think. One 
 question more. Has Kate seen him ? " 
 
 "Yes," rejoined Tom. "I will say i good-bye' 
 now, Mrs. Chacewater ; you had best get over the 
 news a bit before we have any more talk. Shall I 
 send anyone to you ? " 
 
 " Thanks, no, I only want to be alone," and, much 
 relieved by the way Mrs. Chacewater had borne his 
 intelligence, Tom took his departure. 
 
 She sat quite still for some little time after 
 Bramber had left her, and at first could only murmur 
 prayers of thankfulness that her son was yet alive, 
 but soon the more worldly part of her mind re- 
 asserted itself, and her thoughts reverted to this 
 complication with Kate Darley. In the first tumult 
 of her joy she would have recked little what sort of 
 a bride Eeginald brought her, and would have 
 
 12 
 
178 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 welcomed Kate, of whom she was really very fond, 
 warmly, as her daughter-in-law, but as she became 
 calmer, she remembered that previous matrimonial 
 scheme, upon which she had been wont to speculate. 
 Kate might be all very nice, but one of the tenants' 
 daughters was no fit mate for the heir of Chacewater 
 Grange. The Chacewater estates required propping 
 up, it was necessary that Eeginald should marry 
 money — money and position if possible — but essen- 
 tially money. Miss Wargrave was perhaps not all 
 that could be desired, but her father made no secret of 
 it that she would bring fifty thousand pounds to her 
 husband, and then Mrs. Chacewater reflected that 
 even if Eeginald and Kate were not wedded, the 
 complication still existed, and that an entanglement 
 of that nature was perhaps more to be dreaded than 
 an imprudent marriage ; and then having collected 
 her ideas, she hurried off to tell her husband that 
 their son lived. 
 
 The Squire's sensations in the first instance were 
 those of unmixed delight, but he speedily ex- 
 perienced a revulsion of feeling. Why Eeginald 
 had disappeared was a thing his wife and Tom 
 Bramber had held a theory of their own about, and 
 had kept it rigidly to themselves. Though sceptical 
 for a long time, the Squire had come eventually to 
 thoroughly believe in his son's death, but, upon 
 hearing he was still alive, the reason of his dis- 
 appearance became to him clear as daylight. It 
 was a beautiful idea, no doubt, of Eeginald's, and 
 doubtless often occurred to impecunious youth. To 
 
"MY SON IS YET ALIVE." 179 
 
 vanish from the wrath of their v creditors for a space, 
 and then to reappear from out of the darkness, famous 
 and wealthy ; the dream of a young man, and 
 seldom realised. The theory at all events had not 
 occurred to Eeginald Chacewater's creditors, they 
 accepted the tidings of his death without hesitation. 
 The Squire settled their bills without demur. Poor 
 Eeginald was gone, and there must be no blot on 
 his memory, but those fully accounted for the 
 missing man's acquiescence in the rumour of his 
 own death. The story of the Prodigal Son does not 
 bear too literal an interpretation, and when the 
 news of his probable return is heralded by the 
 consciousness that not only much money has been 
 paid for him, but that much awkward explanation 
 has yet to be given of his unaccountable absence, it 
 is not to be wondered at that a strong feeling of 
 anger took possession of Mr. Chacewater towards the 
 culprit. Eeginald might not reappear at the Grange 
 for some time$ but the news that he was alive, there 
 could be little doubt, would not be long before it 
 was all over Bottle sby, and the county generally. 
 Countless would be the enquiries as to what induced 
 him to cause such pain to his parents and ail ] 
 friends by this extraordinary conduct. Mr. Ch 
 water experienced the irritating sensation of having 
 been made a fool of, and he certainly had a warrant 
 for thus thinking. Eeginald had not only without 
 compunction played with his father's and mother's 
 affections, tricked the former into paying his debts, 
 but actually made him the subject of ridicule in his 
 
 12* 
 
180 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 own neighbourhood, as the victim of a practical 
 joke. 
 
 With the exception of the mistress of the Grange, 
 Tom Bramber had been very reticent with regard to 
 his visit to Chillingham. He made no secret that 
 he had been there, but then all Bottlesby knew 
 that in pursuit of business he occasionally did go 
 there, but though he was asked more than once 
 whether he had seen anything of Kate Darley, he 
 either evaded the question or bluntly answered in 
 the negative. But he saw no reason for concealing 
 the fact of Reginald being alive, and said that 
 though he had not seen him himself, he was quite 
 convinced that it was the case, although why he 
 did not come home, he couldn't imagine. Which 
 afforded much food for conjecture in the neighbour- 
 hood. The Squire too made no secret of the discovery 
 of his son to his old friend the Rector. Where he was 
 he didn't exactly know, but he certainly did not 
 perish beneath the ice last January. And so the 
 news speedily came to the ears of Lucy Marton and, 
 on their return to Carlingham Park at the end of 
 the London season, to the Wargraves. It took a 
 great deal to move Clara, but her eye glistened and 
 her heart swelled with elation at the idea, that the 
 prize she had striven so hard to grasp was still within 
 her reach, and instead of the web which she had been 
 so carefully weaving having been ruthlessly swept 
 away by the great Destroyer, there was but a 
 temporary rent in it, and that Reginald Chacewater 
 was still alive to fall a prey to her fascinations. Sam 
 
"MY SON IS YET ALIVE." 181 
 
 Wargrave was perhaps as pleased as his daughter. 
 His search for that eligible young man, despite his 
 best endeavours, had so far proved unavailing. 
 Nobody as yet had commended himself to Clara's 
 taste and requirements like Eeginald Chacewaterj 
 and now that it had been ascertained that he was 
 alive, his reappearance at the Grange would surely 
 be only a matter of a few weeks. In furtherance oi 
 this end, Mr. Wargrave was more profuse than ever 
 in his entertainments. Garden and dinner parties 
 followed each other in rapid succession that August 
 in Carlingham Park. Mr. Wargrave drove over to 
 the Grange himself to hope that, after the happy 
 intelligence, the Squire and his lady would at once 
 mix again with their neighbours as before. Should 
 Mr. Eeginald turn up, they should only be too 
 pleased to see him, of course he was always included 
 in their invitations. " Don't be afraid, Mr. Chace- 
 water, I'm not inquisitive. I'm not given to poking 
 my nose into my neighbours' affairs. Young men 
 will be young men; perhaps he had outrun the 
 constable ; perhaps he had backed that horse of 
 Bramber's rather too stiffly, though I told you all 
 down here again and again that * Chorister ' would 
 win. That's all nothing to me, there's a hundred 
 reasons a young fellow might have for keeping out 
 of the way for a bit. However, I do hope you will 
 excuse a short invitation, and that we shall see you 
 all at dinner on Thursday week. Good-bye," and 
 with this Mr. Wargrave stepped into his dog-cart 
 and drove off. 
 
182 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 He had not got very far on his way home before 
 he encountered Tom Bramber, and, being a man 
 who under all circumstances had ever an eye to 
 business, he pulled up, and with that somewhat 
 boisterous affectation of geniality under which he 
 habitually veiled his innate cunning and vulgarity, 
 said, " Morning, Bramber, promises to be a grand 
 harvest ; I hope for once you are satisfied with your 
 prospects." 
 
 " I have seen better and I have seen worse," 
 replied Tom surlily. He did not like Mr. Wargrave, 
 and had good reason to suppose that he, or at all 
 events his friends, had something to say to the 
 ignominious display of " King of the Huns " at 
 Epsom. " But I don't complain," 
 
 " Don't complain," replied Sam Wargrave with a 
 loud laugh, " I should think not, with such a yard 
 of ricks as you are bound to have." 
 
 Now it really was very creditable to Mr. War- 
 grave that he should have picked up the jargon of 
 farming with such fluency, for his life had been 
 passed in cities, and he knew nothing of agri- 
 cultural pursuits. 
 
 "You will find your tenants will tell you a 
 different tale," rejoined Bramber. " It will be only 
 a moderate wheat crop, even if we have the luck to 
 get it in good order." 
 
 il Ah, well, you are taking a gloomy view of 
 things," replied the master of Carlingham Park, 
 " but what's the odds to you ? You have a harvest 
 to gather, on Doncaster Moor next month, that will 
 
"MY SON IS YET ALIVE." 1S3 
 
 make up for half-a-dozen bad years. We know the 
 Derby running was all wrong, and 'King of the 
 Huns ' will show us it was, in the Leger. I hope 
 the horse is going on well ? " 
 
 "I believe so," rejoined Tom, "but I haven't 
 heard from Newmarket for the last week or two," 
 and slightly raising his hat he rode on. 
 
 Tom indeed had troubled his head very little 
 about the "King's" welfare of late. His whole 
 mind had been engrossed with Kate Darley. Now 
 that was all over, and he was concentrating all his 
 energies in making arrangements for the getting out 
 of his farm as soon as possible. He had received a 
 few lines from Praze now and again, assuring him 
 that the horse was going on well, and always 
 reminding him of his promise not to interfere in 
 any way with the betting market. "You shall 
 stand whatever you like in my book," wrote the 
 trainer. " When we meet at Doncaster I will show 
 you exactly what I have done. Till then you must 
 trust me implicitly." In his present mood this just 
 suited Tom Bramber. He cared nothing about the 
 horse, he didn't care very much even whether he 
 won the Leger or lost it. There was the never- 
 failing instinct that it was better to win money 
 than to lose it, but just then Tom was too taken up 
 with his love troubles to care about anything else. 
 If he had any other feeling concerning success at 
 Doncaster, it was that those whose machinations 
 had caused the defeat of his horse at Epsom might 
 burn their fingers over the race on the Town Moor. 
 
184 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 That Praze was earnestly desirous of the same end 
 he knew, and felt that if anybody could bring that 
 satisfactory result about, it would be the astute 
 trainer. One thing which struck him, when later in 
 the day he thought over his interview with Sam 
 Wargrave, was that while that gentleman had spoken 
 so positively in May of " Chorister's " approaching 
 victory at Epsom, he seemed completely to ignore 
 the probability of his beating the " King " at 
 Doncaster. It struck him as so singular that he 
 thought it worth while to write a line to Mr. Praze, 
 and tell him of Sam Wargrave's change of opinion. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 " THE WARGRAVES' GARDEN PARTY." 
 
 Harvest is in full tide and Carlingham Park is all 
 en fete. It is a fine old house, and the gardens with 
 their well-kept terraces, and beds glowing with 
 brilliant colouring, lend themselves admirably to 
 such a gathering as this. Sam Wargrave has 
 collected all the country side to celebrate, as he 
 says, the success of " Chorister." In the pretty 
 though not extensive park are erected marquees 
 for not only all the Wargrave tenants, but half 
 Bottlesby to boot. Wickets have been pitched, 
 and the retainers of Carlingham are doing battle 
 with the men of Bottlesby, whose wives and sweet- 
 hearts are there to encourage their exertions. In 
 the gardens are collected all the families of the 
 neighbourhood ; daintily dressed damsels, and men 
 
THE WARGKAVES' GARDEN PARTY. 185 
 
 clad in gorgeous flannels, flit about the croquet 
 ground. Ices, cups of tea, and refreshments of all 
 descriptions are proffered in a profusion that makes 
 the servitors of the Park envy the cool dress of 
 their brethren in the cricket field. If Sam War- 
 grave is keen about the making of money, no one 
 can gainsay but what he spends it with a lavish 
 hand. To make himself popular and to extend his 
 connection with the county is an object with him, 
 and to entrap the leading magnates of the county 
 within his gates, he is willing that his gold shall 
 flow like water. 
 
 He had won a good bit of money over the Derby, 
 and when his daughter suggested the giving of a 
 garden party on a grand scale assented at once. 
 
 " We can't get hold of the people we want in 
 Town," said Miss Wargrave, " but people are easier 
 to catch I think in the country, more especially if 
 you give an entertainment of this nature. People 
 who might demur about dining with us, won't 
 hesitate a moment about attending a garden party 
 on a large scale, and only ask the tenantry and the 
 Bottlesby villagers to play cricket and take a day's 
 outing in the Park, and if it's only a fine day you 
 will snare everybody within driving distance." 
 
 Sam Wargrave listened to the wisdom of his 
 daughter, eager and pertinacious as ever in her 
 efforts to ascend the social ladder, and the result 
 fully justified her expectations. All the neighbour- 
 hood was there, and all the neighbourhood freely 
 admitted that the new master of Carlingham 
 
186 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 certainly understood how the thing should be done. 
 The Chacewaters were there, though, no little to 
 Miss Wargrave's disappointment, the truant Regi- 
 nald was not with them, and Miss Chacewater 
 confided to her bosom friend Lucy Marton that 
 they had no tidings of him and no idea of where he 
 was. Lucy thought sadly of the last time she had 
 been at Carlingham ; it was at that dinner-party in 
 the spring, just before the Wargraves moved up to 
 London, when the supposed death of Reginald was 
 in everybody's minds, and the Grange was a house 
 of mourning. .She remembered how angry she had 
 felt then at what she regarded as Clara's heartless 
 indifference. And now, something like Mr. Chace- 
 water, she thought what a deal of real sorrow had 
 been wasted on that graceless offender. In her 
 heart, too, she was conscious of having been 
 betrayed into the discovery of a feeling for the 
 culprit which she had not suspected. She could 
 keep her own secret, but the old, frank confidence 
 that had existed between her and Reginald was 
 gone for ever, and on his return they must either 
 be a good deal more to each other or a good deal 
 less. He had surprised her love by a sorry trick, 
 and she felt a little sore with him in consequence. 
 But for the belief that he was lost to her for ever, 
 she had not awakened to what her real feelings were 
 towards him. That freak of Reginald's had brought 
 trouble on a good many people ; but for that Kate 
 Darley would probably hardly have known him, and 
 listened with a very different ear to Tom Bramber's 
 
THE WARGRAVES' GARDES PARTY. 187 
 
 wooing. His mother, too, would have been spared 
 much anxious pondering as to his relations with 
 Kate. In short, so far, the results of Eeginald's 
 brilliant idea had been the exact opposite of that 
 which he had intended — the temporary postpone- 
 ment of a settlement with his creditors, until such 
 time as he should be able to discharge his liabilities 
 without calling upon his father to assist him, had 
 eventuated in their being at once paid in full by the 
 Squire. It was altogether an unpleasant afternoon 
 for the Chacewaters. That all their friends should 
 be full of anxious enquiries about Eeginald, as to 
 where he had been, how the mistake had arisen, 
 and when they expected him home again, was only 
 what might be looked for, but they were none the 
 less irritating for that. The Squire indeed, speedily 
 became extremely testy over such questioning, and 
 retorted sharply : " How should he know ? It 
 was easier to predict whence the wind would 
 blow than what would be the movements of a young 
 man of Eeginald's age. That from his own careless- 
 ness and stupidity, he had left them for months 
 under a terrible misapprehension, and that he would 
 probably favour them with his company again when 
 he got tired of his present life." Of what his 
 present life consisted, and where his present life was 
 led, Mr. Chacewater said nothing, for the best of all 
 possible reasons, that he did not know, and this 
 alone, now that he had recovered from his first 
 delight on finding that Eeginald was alive, was day 
 by day making the Squire more angry. 
 
188 A RACIKG EUBBER. 
 
 Sam Wargrave moved about amongst his guests, 
 pompous and somewhat patronising as usual. The 
 former he could not divest himself of, but he had 
 guests there to-day who he knew would submit to 
 none of the latter, and though it was not natural 
 to him, Mr. Wargrave managed to show sufficient 
 deference to people of higher standing than him- 
 self, nor, to do him justice, did he fall into the 
 opposite extreme so common to men like himself — 
 Sam Wargrave never cringed. He was full of good- 
 humour that day. Clara's idea had been a great 
 success, and he knew that it had been so ; his invi- 
 tations had been accepted by two or three families 
 whose acquaintance he much desired to make, but 
 who had not so far troubled to call upon him. In 
 the course of the afternoon he came across the 
 Kector, and as he shook hands exclaimed : 
 
 " Delighted to see you, Marton. It's some time 
 since we met." 
 
 " Yes, I haven't seen you since the day I dined 
 with you last spring a few days before you went 
 to London. We Wiltshire men rather scoffed at 
 you for a prophet then, but we hailed you a true 
 prophet later." 
 
 " Hey, what ? What do you mean ? " said Sam 
 Wargrave. 
 
 " What, don't you remember your prediction ? " 
 said the Eector smiling. " Why, you told us all 
 that ( Chorister ' would win the Derby. What you 
 did not tell us was what a jolly afternoon we were 
 to have afterwards in celebrating his success." 
 
THE WAKGEAVES' GARDEN PARTY. 189 
 
 "Ah, I recollect now," said Wargrave. "I 
 remember, somebody gave me a hint that there 
 was a screw loose with the favourite. However, I 
 fancy Bramber was a very unlucky man to lose the 
 race." 
 
 " I read something in the papers about a scrim- 
 mage at the Corner," rejoined Mr. Marton, " but 
 the * King ' made no show at all. It is rather apt 
 to be the case I think when a man only owns one or 
 two horses, he is given to over-estimate them. His 
 parents usually think an only child a prodigy." 
 
 " I don't know how that may be," replied War- 
 grave, " but I mean what I say. I look upon ' King 
 of the Huns ' as the best of his year, and think he 
 will show you so next month." 
 
 " This is a complete retraction of all former 
 beliefs," said the Rector laughing. "We've made 
 a convert of you in Wiltshire. Unfortunately I 
 haven't the faith in our champion that I once had. 
 I am afraid there will be no celebration of his 
 victory " 
 
 " More unlikely things have happened," rejoined 
 Mr. Wargrave chuckling. "I tell you what, 
 Marton, I'll do this all over again, blest if I don't, 
 if • King of the Huns ' wins the Leger, and I tell you 
 he will." 
 
 "I am sure I hope so," replied Mr. Marton. 
 "Beyond local patriotism, all Bottlesby now will 
 have an interest in his success," and then the Rector 
 moved on to speak to some other friends who caught 
 his eye 
 
190 A EACING RUBBER. 
 
 If reputations are easily lost, they are at times 
 easily won, and in no case perhaps does success bear 
 fruit so largely and so speedily as in the profession 
 of prophecy. There is an almanack still I believe 
 enjoying a large circulation, which, in the days when 
 the century was young, predicted a week of terrible 
 storm and tempest, and the storm and tempest were 
 so to speak, there to order. The proprietor of 
 that almanack was a made man, not only he, but 
 his family for generations to come. He was sup- 
 posed to be an infallible judge of weather, and 
 though his subsequent vaticinations proved quite as 
 inaccurate as other people's, people, especially in 
 the country, where they are more credulous than 
 in towns, shook their heads, quoted him with 
 reverence, and wound up with " Bless you, he 
 knows " ; moreover they are still shaking them. 
 Now of all lines of prophecy, none perhaps is so 
 popular as that of horse-racing. I sometimes 
 wonder, taking into consideration the grand army 
 of amateurs, whether the professors of this art do 
 not almost outnumber those they prophesy to. 
 Now Sam Wargrave's prediction about " Chorister " 
 had made a great impression on the minds of those 
 who heard it, more especially after the event. We 
 all look ruefully back at that advice which if 
 followed at the time would have led on to fortune, 
 and only wish we had done what Jones told us to do 
 with regard to Montezumas, utterly ignoring that 
 had we embarked in all the speculations Jones has 
 been for years whispering into our ears, we 
 
THE WAEG RAVES' GARDEN PARTY. 191 
 
 should have been left poor indeed. That Mr. War- 
 grave had said all along that " Chorister " would 
 win the Derby was by this well known all round 
 Bottlesby, and much eagerness was evoked to know 
 what his oracular lips might have to say on the 
 subject of the Leger. He had been so short a time 
 back at the Park that there had not been much 
 opportunity to question him on that point, and now 
 there was no necessity for it for, delighted with the 
 success of his entertainment, Mr. Wargrave was 
 going about amongst his guests, positively beaming 
 in the gratification of his heart, trusting they were 
 all enjoying themselves as much as he was, and 
 assuring them he should have a gathering of the 
 same kind next month, if " King of the Huns " 
 won the Leger. Such a pleasant piece of news as 
 this, as might be expected, spread like wildfire, and 
 before the sun went down, all Bottlesby knew what 
 Mr. Wargrave deemed likely to happen at Don- 
 caster. 
 
 " It is very strange, Papa," said Lucy, as she and 
 the Rector drove home in the delicious summer 
 evening in all the brilliant light of the Hunters 1 
 moon, " that they should know nothing of Reginald 
 at the Grange. Jessie told me that though they 
 know he is alive, they don't know where he is, nor 
 what he has been doing since last January." 
 
 " Jessie told you that ? " rejoined the Rector medi- 
 tatively. " I can only say that you know more 
 about it than I do. Herbert Chacewater is very 
 reticent upon the subject, and has evidently no 
 
192 A RACING EUBBEE. 
 
 wish to discuss it. He had to receive this afternoon 
 lots of congratulations upon his son being unex- 
 pectedly restored to him, but he got unmistakably 
 very irritable on being questioned about the matter, 
 and therefore I refrained from seeking to learn 
 anything about him, but I'll own to being curious 
 in the extreme about the whole thing. That he 
 has purposely mystified everybody about his death 
 is evident, and that he must have had strong 
 reasons for doing so is equally clear. He has got, 
 I am afraid, into a big scrape of some kind, and 
 instead of going straight to his father, as he should 
 have done, has foolishly distressed us all very much 
 by thinking to obliterate himself." 
 
 " Do you think he has been in a very bad scrape, 
 Papa ? " said Lucy in a low voice. 
 
 " Nothing probably but what, if he would confide 
 in those nearest and dearest to him, might be put 
 right. I am very fond of Reggie, he is a straight- 
 forward young fellow, and if he only had application 
 would play his part in this world." 
 
 " But you haven't answered my question, Papa." 
 
 " Well, Lucy, I am afraid it is. Reggie and his 
 father have always been on excellent terms, and that 
 he shouldn't come to him for help in his difficulties 
 looks bad. You see, although Jessie may not know, 
 it does not follow that the Squire is in any such 
 ignoran ce. On the contrary, I suspect he knows all 
 about it, and is very wroth in consequence." 
 
 " Could you not try and mediate between them ? " 
 asked Miss Marton 
 
THE WARGRAVES' GARDEN PARTY. 193 
 
 " I would in one moment," rejoined the Rector, 
 " if I only knew what was the matter. But you see 
 I am in the confidence of neither father nor son." 
 
 Lucy said nothing for some time. Both she and 
 her father were thinking of Reginald, and the Rector 
 was turning over in his own mind whether it was 
 possible for him to be of any use in the matter. 
 On arriving at home they paused for a few moments 
 in the hall to light their bedroom candles, and as 
 they were doing so Lucy said : 
 
 " Papa, I think to-morrow morning you ought to 
 manage to see Mr. Bramber." 
 
 "Why?" exclaimed Mr. Marton, in visible 
 bewilderment. 
 
 " Well," said Lucy, " you see, some weeks before 
 the race, Mr. Wargrave knew < King of the Huns ' 
 would not win at Epsom, and said so. Now he tells 
 us ■ King of the Huns ' will win at Doncaster. I 
 don't know what it means, but the horse is 
 Bramber's, and I think he ought to be told what 
 Mr. Wargrave says." 
 
 "■ Yes, there's something in that," rejoined the 
 Rector. " Tom might as well know ; it can't do any 
 harm at all events, though I should think he is a 
 better judge of the 'King's' chance than Mr. 
 Wargrave can be." 
 
 " I have an idea too, Papa," said Lucy, " that Mr. 
 Bramber can tell you more about Reginald than 
 anybody else round Bottlesby," and, taking up her 
 candle, she nodded good-night to her father and 
 tripped upstairs, 
 
 13 
 
1«J4 A RACING RUBBER, 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 "THE RECTOR'S DISCOVERY." 
 
 As soon as he had finished his breakfast the next 
 morning and skimmed the newspaper, Mr. Marton 
 started off to have a talk with Tom Bramber, and, 
 after some little enquiry, found him where he least 
 expected on a fine morning in harvest time, namely 
 at home. Mr. Marton expressed his surprise that 
 Tom was not afield, superintending his men. 
 
 "Well, the fact is, sir, you see," replied Tom, 
 " I've a deal to do just now, and I am obliged to 
 leave the overlooking to some of the men. I can 
 trust mine pretty well. I've been a decentish 
 master and they know I stand no nonsense." 
 
 "Well," said the Rector, with a glance at the 
 pens, ink and ledgers littered about the table, " you 
 know best, but I should have thought all those 
 accounts could have waited till the corn was in. 
 Besides, man, it's a sin to lose such a day as this if 
 you can possibly help it." 
 
 " You see, sir," replied Tom, " the fact is I am 
 going away, and I was just making a bit of a valua- 
 tion as to what the plant, stock, etc., might be likely 
 to fetch." 
 
 " You don't mean to say that you are going to 
 leave us. you who've been brought up in the parish, 
 
THE RECTOR'S DISCOVERY. 195 
 
 who know every man and woman in it as well as 
 I do myself, you can't mean that ? " 
 
 11 Yes, I do," replied the other. " Things have 
 gone all wrong with me of late, I must go away 
 from Bottlesby and begin again in a new place." 
 
 " I've known you since you were an urchin," replied 
 the Rector, "not much higher than my stick, and 
 should be very, very, sorry to part with you, anJ so 
 would the Squire, and, for the matter of that, all 
 Bottlesby. In short it can't be done, Tom. You 
 are one of the institutions of the place. Now then, 
 out with it. What's the matter ? " 
 
 "A good deal's the matter," replied Bramber, 
 " that is to me, but you can't help me, nor, as far 
 as that goes, can anyone else. There are some 
 troubles you know we have got to bear alone." 
 
 " That's true. I'm not going to bother you, but 
 you'll tell me one thing. If it's anything to do 
 with money, you're bound to give the Squire and 
 myself the chance of helping you if we can." 
 
 "Thank you, sir; thank you," replied Bramber. 
 "All Bottlesby knows that the Squire and the 
 Parson will stand by them in difficulties, but it's 
 not that. There's troubles a deal bigger than money 
 ones you know." 
 
 " Yes, and as you say, that we must face by our- 
 selves. You must forgive me, but I thought perhaps, 
 Tom, that you had been a little bit too fond of 
 * King of the Huns,' and tempted to venture more 
 money on him than you could afford. It's the 
 curse of racing, it tempts men to do that. Is he 
 
 13* 
 
196 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 going to atone for the disappointment lie caused 
 you at Epsom ? Mr. Wargrave told us all so the 
 other day, and says the Epsom race was all a mis- 
 take." 
 
 "Mr. Wargrave is quite right, it was. He 
 mayn't be much good to hounds, and he owns up 
 to not being much of a shot, but he does under- 
 stand racing. The ' King ' is well, that's all I 
 know, leastways he was, the last I heard of him, but 
 Praze don't talk much about it this time ; he was 
 for him so sanguine last that he's not likely to be 
 over confident this." 
 
 " We must hope for better luck on the Town 
 Moor," rejoined Mr. Mart on. " There's one thing, 
 a man doesn't get out of a big farm like yours all 
 at once, Bramber, and I hope something will happen 
 yet to make you change your mind. Now I want to 
 talk to you about another thing. It was you who 
 found out Mr. Eeginald was alive, but you didn't 
 see him, did you?" 
 
 Tom eyed his questioner suspiciously, and then 
 said, " No, but I know for certain that it is so." 
 
 " You heard that at Chillingham, didn't you ? " 
 continued Mr. Marton. " That's where the circus 
 which Kate Darley has joined is performing, is it 
 not ? " 
 
 " Yes ; you mean kind, I daresay, sir. She's 
 there, but she's nothing to me, and I don't want 
 to be cross - questioned about her proceedings 
 simply to provide gossip for the old women of the 
 village." 
 
THE RECTOR'S DISCOVERY. 197 
 
 Tom was getting visibly angry, but if ever there 
 was a man who could awe the turbulent members 
 of his flock by the ready assumption of his high 
 calling, it was the Hector. 
 
 "Do you suppose, Bramber," he said sternly, 
 " that I am asking these questions with a view to 
 mere idle gossip ? Do you think I should be fit to 
 hold the post that has been entrusted to my care if I 
 confined myself to talking to you twice a week from 
 the pulpit ? It is my duty to seek out those that 
 are heavy laden, and to help them in their troubles. 
 Was it Kate Darley who told you that Mr. Eeginald 
 was alive ? " 
 
 " Yes, but I knew it all along." 
 
 " Then why didn't you speak," exclaimed tne 
 Kector, " and save all the misery his friends have 
 undergone ? " 
 
 "Because I wasn't quite certain," replied Tom. 
 
 " You knew, and you weren't quite certain ? What 
 do you mean by all this quibbling and equivoca- 
 tion? Tell me the truth at once. Shame on you, 
 Bramber, that I should even have to ask you for 
 the truth." 
 
 " I am no liar, Mr. Marton," replied Tom, now 
 thoroughly at bay. "I only guessed what you 
 might have all guessed, that when Mr. Eeginald 
 and Kate Darley disappeared, they had gone off 
 together. We all knew for certain that Kate was 
 not drowued. I didn't see why Mr. Eeginald 
 should be either. When I found Kate Darley was at 
 Chillingham, I found, as I expected, that Mr. Eegi- 
 
108 A RACING EUBBER. 
 
 nald was there too, or rather he had been, for 
 weeks." 
 
 " Stop, stop," cried the Kector, " I never dreamt 
 of this." 
 
 There was silence for a minute or two between 
 the two men, and then in a low voice Mr. Marton 
 asked, " Is he married to her ? " 
 
 " No, curse him ! " said Tom, springing to his feet, 
 " and that's what's the matter," and without waiting 
 for another word from his companion, he fled from 
 the room. 
 
 Seldom had the Eev. James Marton felt more 
 troubled about the affairs of one of his parishioners 
 than he did about Eeginald Chacewater's, as he 
 walked homewards. That he should have made such 
 a mesalliance would, the Eector knew, be a bitter 
 disappointment to his father and mother. That the 
 pretty, graceful, lady-like little thing had been 
 educated much above her station, and though a 
 marriage not likely to meet the approval of his 
 friends and relatives, yet it was capable of being 
 glossed over with that negative phrase that it might 
 have been worse. But if, as Bramber positively 
 asserted, no marriage had taken place between them, 
 then, from the point of view of a clergyman and a 
 man of the world, Reginald had committed both a 
 sin, and a well-nigh irretrievable blunder. That there 
 was the slightest connection between Kate barley's 
 flight and Reginald's disappearance, had never 
 crossed his mind. He could not even recollect ever 
 having seen them together, the busiest tongues in 
 
THE RECTOR'S DISCOVERY. 199 
 
 the parish had never hinted at such a possibility 
 in his hearing. And then he wondered whether 
 Herbert Chacewater was aware of his son's escapade. 
 He must be ; that would account for Keginald's non- 
 appearance at the Grange, for his seizing upon the 
 report of his death as a lucky accident in his favour 
 with the desire of being temporarily lost to view. 
 The whole thing seemed clear enough to the Eector 
 now. One thing only perplexed him sorely, and 
 that was what use to make of his discovery. 
 Whether he had not better keep his mouth closed 
 simply, or whether it was possible for him to inter- 
 fere with advantage to anyone. 
 
 A jockey's life, especially in the early part of his 
 career, is by no means a bed of roses, and Jim 
 Darley always looked back upon the Spring when 
 " King of the Huns " was disgraced at Epsom as 
 about the darkest period of his younger days. Jim 
 believed in his sister as thoroughly as he did in his 
 horse ; a disquieting rumour had reached him from 
 Bottlesby, but of that he had taken little heed ; he 
 knew better. Kate was getting her living in a circus, 
 well, why shouldn't she ? That was all right 
 enough, there was no more harm in that than in 
 what he was doing himself. But one thing had 
 struck the boy very forcibly. On his visits to New- 
 market, which in the early part of the year had been 
 pretty frequent, Tom Bramber had always noticed 
 him, spoken to him, and had something to say 
 about Kate. He had only been there once since the 
 
200 A RACING- RUBBER. 
 
 " King's " defeat, and then, hard as Jim had tried 
 to catch his eye, Tom had studiously ignored him, 
 and far from speaking to him about Kate, had 
 vouchsafed him nothing but a slight nod in reply 
 to his salutation. Then, unbounded as was his 
 faith in his horse, what were they going to do with 
 him ? They had prevented his winning at Epsom, 
 were the same rascally tactics to be used against 
 him at Doncaster ? Who was to ride him ? 
 Was that obstinate idiot Wrench to have the mount 
 again ? If Wrench had only done as he was told, 
 well then the " King " would have won easily 
 enough, but he thinks he knows more than anyone 
 else and pays no heed at all to what's said to him. 
 Who would ride the " King " for the Leger per- 
 plexed more people than Jim. It was a vexed 
 question in the stable. That Wrench should do so 
 was commonly supposed, he did a great part of the 
 riding for Mr. Praze's stable, but still it was noticed 
 amongst the boys that the crack jockey had never 
 been down to give the colt a gallop at exercise since 
 Epsom, though before that time he had often done 
 so. As for Mr. Praze, he was as inscrutable as the 
 Sphinx, and never to his most intimate friends 
 dropped the slightest hint. Fidgetty about his 
 sister and anxious about his horse, Jim Darley was 
 going through a trying time, but receiving, though 
 he did not know it, a grand lesson in his art, and 
 one which moreover may be applied to life gener- 
 ally. He was learning to " sit and suffer," which 
 being interpreted means, in turf parlance, to have 
 
THE RECTOR'S DISCOVERY. 201 
 
 patience in difficulties. Still Jim's anxiety grew 
 absolutely feverish, as Doncaster drew near. His 
 belief in Mr. Praze was unbounded, and the work 
 done by his charges was, of course, all directed by 
 the trainer. The " King " looked well, and it would 
 be a keenly critical eye that could have found much 
 fault with his appearance, but, for all that, Jim felt 
 quite certain that he was not doing such strong work 
 as he had in the early part of the year. That 
 no man could teach Mr. Praze his business was an 
 axiom at Newmarket. If Praze didn't understand 
 how to wind a horse up for a race then there was 
 no one there who did. Jim had not ventured to 
 suggest this idea of his to anyone, nor had he 
 even heard it mooted, and yet there were plenty of 
 lynx-eyed judges on the Heath not likely to fail in 
 detecting such a weak spot in a Leger candidate, 
 if it were there. The one thing reassuring to Jim 
 was that that turf barometer of a horse's forthcoming 
 prospects, the betting market, kept steadily rising. 
 There was no strong order out evidently to back 
 " King of the Huns," but, for all that, it was ap- 
 parent that he was greatly and persistently backed, 
 whether by the public or his stable it was difficult 
 to say. No large bets were made about him, nor 
 could any one individual be precisely identified as 
 his supporter, but whenever there was betting on 
 the Leger going on, there always seemed to be 
 somebody who wanted the odds against " King of 
 the Huns," to a small sum, and whereas after his 
 defeat at Epsom. fifteen to one was easily obtainable, 
 
202 A BACING- EUBBER. 
 
 speculators were glad to take about half the price 
 now. 
 
 Jim Darley had served two years of his appren- 
 ticeship, and it was a sore disappointment to him 
 that as yet no opportunity had been given him of 
 " donning silk." There were boys at Newmarket 
 younger than himself who not only could boast of 
 having had more than one chance in that way, but 
 some few who were already held to have distin- 
 guished themselves, and bade fair ere long to be in 
 considerable request. Jim had at one time looked 
 forward to Tom Bramber as likely to beg Praze to 
 give him a chance. He thought he might ask this 
 favour at his hands, but it was close upon three 
 months since Bramber had been seen at Newmarket, 
 and Jim felt that that occasion had not been one 
 to prefer his petition to either him or the trainer. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXII. 
 
 "GAME THE SECOND." 
 
 August is gone, and amongst its stirring events, 
 stirring, that is, to the racing world, brought with 
 it the York meeting. There was good sport 
 witnessed over the Knavesmire, but the only matter 
 notable as it concerns this history was the strong 
 demonstration made in favour of " King of the Huns," 
 who for the first time was supported in real earnest 
 fashion to win many thousands. Whom this out- 
 lay was for it was not easy to determine. The 
 money was booked to two or three well-known 
 
GAME THE SECOND. 203 
 
 members of Tattersall's, but nobody supposed that 
 they were more than bookers in the business. 
 They had never been identified in that way at all 
 with Praze's stable, but there was one professional 
 gentleman, whose engagements had necessitated his 
 presence in the great Cathedral city, who watched 
 the proceedings of the betting ring with consider- 
 able interest, and that was John Wrench. That 
 something of this kind might happen, he had been 
 expecting for some time. He knew, none better, 
 what had happened to the " King " at Epsom, and 
 though neither Praze nor Bramber had said much 
 at the time, he knew they were displeased with him 
 for not obeying orders, and lying well on the out- 
 side coming round Tattenham Corner. If " King 
 of the Huns" started for the Leger, he supposed 
 that he would ride him, but he had heard nothing 
 about it, and had no great fancy for the mount. In 
 Wrench's own opinion, the horse had completely 
 lost his temper, and was never to be relied on. " A 
 right good horse when he likes," had been the 
 jockey's verdict, " but never to be depended upon. 
 If he takes it into his head there's not a colt of his 
 year has a chance with him, but he's much more 
 likely to sulk, and refuse even to try to gallop. 
 But if," thought Wrench, " it's the stable who are 
 backing him in this way, he must have satisfied 
 them at home that he has got over his tantrums, 
 and is quite a reformed character, and if that is the 
 case, I should like not only to ride him, but to be 
 allowed to stand in a small stake with them on my 
 
204 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 Dwn account." Still eagerly watching the pulsations of 
 the market,Wrench noticed that a prominent member 
 of the betting ring, who had more than once acted 
 as agent for Praze's stable, took occasion, twice or 
 thrice, to lay against M King of the Huns." John 
 Wrench was puzzled, he could not understand which 
 way the wind blew, and resolved that he would run 
 down to Newmarket, and have a talk with Praze, 
 as soon as he could spare the time. But, as a leading 
 jockey, Wrench was in great request, and it so 
 happened that it was not until just before the 
 Leger that he was able to pay the Newmarket 
 trainer the visit he intended. 
 
 James Praze's string were doing steady work on 
 the Bury side of the Heath, when the jockey 
 cantered up on his hack, and said carelessly, * Fine 
 morning, Mr. Praze. Your lot all doing nicely I 
 hope ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied the trainer, " I have nothing to 
 complain of. Mine are all pretty fit." 
 
 " That's right." replied the jockey. is How's the 
 Derby impostor ? He was backed for a lot of money 
 at York, as if somebody had fancied his chance 
 again. You've never said anything, but I suppose 
 I'm to ride him ? " 
 
 " Not exactly," rejoined the trainer quietly. " You 
 don't suppose I shouldn't have booked you before 
 this, if we'd meant that. You don't fancy the 
 horse for one thing, and Mr. Bramber didn't fancy 
 your riding of him at Epsom for another." 
 
 This was so far true, that Tom had not thought 
 
GAME THE SECOND. 205 
 
 the horse was done justice to upon that occasion, 
 but the taking away the mount from John Wrench 
 for Doncaster was solely Mr. Praze's doing, and due 
 to the jockey's having paid no heed to the trainer's 
 instructions. 
 
 " Very well," replied Wrench, considerably nettled, 
 " then the sooner I announce that I am to let, the 
 better. I think you might have let me know before, 
 but it's always the way with men who just own one 
 or two horses. When their wretched old screws 
 don't win, they say it's all the fault of the jockey. 
 • King of the Huns ' is a coward, as whoever takes 
 my place at Doncaster will very speedily discover. 
 All the same," said the jockey, casting a searching 
 glance at the trainer, " there's somebody don't think 
 so, judging from what I saw at York," and with this 
 parting shot, to which all the same he attached no 
 particular meaning, John Wrench cantered off. 
 
 And so it came to pass that, a little later on, Jim 
 Darley was struck almost dumb with surprise. 
 Work was over for the morning, and Jim had just 
 finished doing down his horse, when the head lad 
 looked into the loose box, where the " King " was 
 just nibbling at a handful of hay, and told Jim he 
 was to go up to the house, as Mr. Praze wanted to 
 speak to him. Wondering what on earth his master 
 could want with him, Jim lost no time in repairing 
 to the parlour, where the trainer still lingered over 
 his breakfast. 
 
 " Two years ago, Darley, when you came to me," 
 said Praze, " I told you that if you paid attention 
 
206 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 to orders, and kept your temper, you had the 
 makings of a horseman, and your chance would 
 come. Well, it has come. You will be wanted to 
 ride ' King of the Huns ' in the Leger." 
 
 Jim's eyes glistened, and it was all he could do to 
 refrain from exclaiming, " Oh, Mr. Praze ! " 
 
 " You see," continued his employer, " the horse 
 is no doubt a little queer in his temper, and it is 
 quite likely he will do more in your hands than he 
 would in Wrench's. Now, don't get conceited and 
 run away with the idea that you can ride with 
 John. If he gets alongside with you at the finish, 
 it must be on one a good many pounds worse than 
 yours, or he'll make mincemeat of you. Eemember, 
 I'll forgive you if you're beat, but if you forget 
 what you're told, you needn't look forward to 
 wearing silk again whilst you are in my stable. 
 One thing more. You ought to have learnt by this 
 time to hold your toDgue. Now don't go blowing 
 around that you are going to ride ' King of the 
 Huns.' That'll do for the present. You'll hear 
 what more there is to say at Doncaster." 
 
 There was a full muster at the pretty little 
 Yorkshire town that September. Men,, who had 
 been up in Scotland for the first month of the 
 grouse, pulled up in shoals on their way back to 
 Town, to witness the great race of the North : 
 whilst Manchester, Sheffield, and the other big 
 towns within hail of the Yorkshire border poured in 
 their contingents, all anxious to gaze on the fray. 
 
GAME THE SECOND. 207 
 
 Still, thronged though the place was, and vainly as 
 Praze searched at all the well-known trysts, he could 
 neither see nor hear anything of Tom Bramber. He 
 was anxious to see him, for had he not asked Tom 
 to leave all speculation on the race in his hands ? 
 And it behoved him to render an account of his 
 stewardship. But no, he could see nothing of him, 
 nor could he hear from any of their mutual 
 acquaintance that any one had set eyes upon Tom. 
 Considerable surprise was expressed when it became 
 known that Wrench was not going to ride the 
 " King." It was said that he had refused, it was 
 whispered about that if the stable had been dis- 
 satisfied with his riding at Epsom, the jockey had 
 been equally dissatisfied with his mount. Eeport said 
 that there had been great difficulty about finding a 
 substitute, and, despite all eager enquiry, even now 
 there was no ascertaining who was to take Wrench's 
 place. That the horse had arrived at Doncaster all 
 right was certain ; but this little difficulty about his 
 rider caused his retrogression in the betting, and 
 amongst those not altogether pleased with the 
 aspect of things was Mr. Sam Wargrave. Wargrave, 
 to use a slang phrase, " knew his way about " on a 
 racecourse as well as most people. He had been, 
 too, a little behind the scenes with regard to that 
 accident at Tattenham Corner ; he was a good judge 
 of racing, and had no doubt in his own mind that 
 " King of the Huns " ought to have won the Derby. 
 He had, moreover, the courage to back his convic- 
 tions, and he and the little clique with which he 
 
208 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 was associated had supported " King of the Huns " 
 in a very substantial manner. Now Sam was 
 puzzled : he was wary and cunning in all matters 
 connected with racing ; he had been told " King of 
 the Huns " was doing a capital Leger preparation. 
 Could he have been misinformed in this matter ? 
 However, he would have to abide now by what he 
 had done, for he had nothing to guide him as to 
 what he had better do, and there was but little time 
 left to decide. Like himself, his friends did not 
 quite relish the look of things, but they also saw 
 nothing for it but to stand to their guns. 
 
 Again and again was the question put to James 
 Praze as to who was going to ride the " King," but 
 the trainer's reply was invariably, " Never mind ; 
 there will be someone to ride him right enough." 
 While, when questioned concerning the chance of 
 his horse, his reply was simply, " He is here and 
 well," but of what part he expected him to play in 
 the race he said never a word. When the numbers 
 went up on the telegraph board, and it was seen 
 that Darley was the jockey for the " King," there 
 was much wonder and enquiry as to who Darley was, 
 for in those days Darley was a name quite unknown 
 to racing men, and the " King " receded still more 
 in the betting. And now Jim, attired in his first 
 racing-jacket, was thrown into the saddle, and sent 
 forth to make his first essay in the profession of his 
 adoption. As he was about to follow his opponents 
 out of the paddocks, Praze checked him. The boy 
 ben*" down to listen to his master's last words 
 
GAME THE SECOND. 209 
 
 "Get well away with them, and then lie off. 
 You can take close order at the distance ; but don't 
 be hard upon your horse if you find you can't win. 
 I don't want him cut up ; and, remember, I'd as 
 soon you were nowhere as third." And with that 
 Mr. Praze gave Jim a nod and walked off in the 
 direction of the trainer's stand. 
 
 Jim felt very serious when he went down to the 
 post ; he had ridden of late in several trials, and 
 learnt a good deal of his profession, but he was now 
 conscious that no amount of rehearsal will prevent 
 one feeling nervous on the first appearance. Again 
 and again he muttered his orders over to himself. 
 " I'll stick to them whatever happens. It would be 
 the making of me to win, and I believe I ought to. 
 You never sulked in your life with me, did you, old 
 man ? " And patting his horse's neck, Jim com- 
 mitted himself to the charge of the starter. 
 
 Two or three breaks away, in which Jim keeps his 
 head and behaves with wise discretion, and then 
 down goes the flag, and they are off. Following his 
 instructions, before he has gone a quarter of a mile 
 Jim has pulled his horse back and is lying about 
 ten or a dozen lengths from the leaders, and this 
 position he steadily maintains till nearing the bend 
 of the Eed House. By that time, " Chorister " has 
 threaded his way pretty nearly to the front, and Jim 
 thinks it is time to close up and lessen the gap 
 between them. He has lessened it a good bit, but 
 is still four or five lengths behind. He calls upon 
 his horse slightly, and the " King," showing no sign 
 
 14 
 
210 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 of cowardice, responds gamely to his call. He is 
 beginning to feel anxious. " But no ; not till the 
 distance, he said. Ah, here it is." And then Jim 
 calls upon his horse to take close order. Gradually 
 he creeps up, and already, as at Epsom, rises the 
 cry " ' King of the Huns ' wins ! " But half way 
 up a horrible suspicion shoots athwart Jim's mind. 
 His horse is faltering slightly in his stride. He is 
 running game as a bull-dog in his difficulties ; but 
 Jim can disguise from himself no longer that his 
 horse is in trouble. Still, he thinks, the others, 
 like himself, may have had pretty near enough of 
 it, and perseveres. There are only two left in it in 
 Jim's judgment, "Chorister" and an outsider, who 
 are racing together close upon two lengths in front 
 of him, and a third horse that is lying at his girths.^ 
 For two or three seconds he rides the <( King " hard, 
 and then recognises that he is beat, that he can 
 never catch the favourite. He drops the whip-hand, 
 which he has half-raised, as the bitter thought 
 comes home to him. " No, don't cut him up if you 
 can't win, he said, and never mind about being 
 third." Jim eases his horse, and in another second 
 or two " Chorister " is hailed winner of the Leger, 
 while " King of the Huns " is placed fourth. 
 
 Defeat is hard to bear at the beginning of life ; 
 as we go on we take it less hardly. It has come to 
 all of us, aye, even to the greatest amongst us. 
 Napoleon knew it, and so did the great Turenne ; 
 and there have been retreats, from that of the Ten 
 Thousand, that have been famous as victories ; nay, 
 
GAME THE SECOND. 21] 
 
 was there not one General of the last century who 
 rendered himself illustrious by defeat ? who the 
 wags of his nation described " as like a drum, only 
 heard of when beaten." However, Jim Darley had 
 yet to acquire equanimity in reverse, and it was 
 with a grievous feeling of disappointment that he 
 rode his horse back to the paddock. 
 
 It was all over now, there was nothing to do but to 
 pay and look pleasant ; and to do Mr. Sam Wargrave 
 justice, he was much too old a hand at a game of 
 speculation to make much moan over getting the 
 worst of it, but he did rather wonder how it had all 
 happened. How was it that " Chorister " had so 
 decisively beaten " King of the Huns " ? a horse 
 which had so conclusively beaten him over the 
 Kowley Mile in the Spring. The " King " looked 
 fit and well ; the boy rode him well enough ; if it 
 had come to a case of a close finish, young Darley 
 would probably have been outridden ; but it wasn't 
 a case of that. He supposed the " King " must be 
 a non-stayer, that was the only solution he could 
 possibly find for his defeat. 
 
 14* 
 
212 A RACING RUBBER 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 " PRAZE EXPLAINS HIS TACTICS." 
 
 When the account of the race reached Bottlesby 
 there was much sympathy expressed for Tom 
 Bramber — as well there might be. We never sym- 
 pathise so much with disappointment as when 
 sharing in it ourselves. And was not that garden- 
 party, promised by Mr. Wargrave, dependent on the 
 victory of " King of the Huns " at Doncaster ? As 
 for Bramber, nobody seemed to know what to make 
 of him. This strange whim of his, of giving up 
 his farm, and going away to settle, he apparently 
 didn't know where. What could it all mean ? 
 People tried to dissuade him from it, but he only 
 shook his head, and said he must go. He had been 
 at Bottlesby too long, he wanted change ; he had 
 not a word to say against his landlord ; he held his 
 land at a fair rent, and the Squire was always 
 willing to meet his tenants in any way. No, he 
 had nothing to say against him ; nor for the matter 
 of that anyone in the place, or near it ; but, for all 
 that, he had made up his mind to go. It was no 
 use arguing with him. When he spoke to Mr. 
 Chacewater about giving up his farm that gentle- 
 man made no attempt to dissuade him. The fact 
 was, his wife had told him her suspicions, as to how 
 things stood between Bramber and Kate Darley. 
 
PEAZE EXPLAINS HIS TACTICS. 213 
 
 And so the Squire had only said-" I shall be very 
 sorry to lose you, Tom. You and yours have 
 been there all my time ; but you're old enough to 
 know your own business ; and as you tell me it is 
 best you should go, you must. I can only say the 
 best wishes of Mrs. Chacewater and myself go with 
 you. One question only. It has nothing to do with 
 « King of the Huns,' has it ? " 
 
 « Nothing whatever, Sir," rejoined Tom. " How 
 it was he cut up so badly in the Leger I don't 
 know as yet. I haven't heard from Praze for some 
 time. He'd be expecting to meet me at Doncaster, 
 you see. And though I've lost a little money, I 
 don't suppose it's very much. I left everything to 
 Praze, as regarded betting ; he's a careful mate, 
 and would take good care not to let me in heavily." 
 « I'm glad of that," said the Squire. " There 
 was no scrimmage in the race this time. I am 
 afraid the ■ King ' is not quite so good a horse as 
 you thought him." 
 
 « Perhaps so," returned Tom. " It's possible his 
 victory in the Biennial was all a fluke. However, I 
 am sick to death of it all, and shall tell Praze to 
 dispose of my half of the horse as soon as pos- 
 sible." ml , 
 « A wise decision," said Mr. Chacewater. "There s 
 no stock so expensive to keep as race-horses." 
 
 Two or three days afterwards, Bramber received a 
 letter from the trainer ; and on opening it, was 
 agreeably surprised to see a cheque for a goodly 
 sum flutter out of the envelope ; having glanced at 
 
214 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 which, he turned to see what Praze had to say for 
 himself. The letter ran as follows : 
 
 " Deak Tom,— 
 
 " I hereby enclose your share of the 
 plunder, and now to give you an account of my 
 tactics all through the piece. To begin with, the 
 horse was desperately upset by the collision in the 
 Derby. He was fretful, irritable, and much disposed 
 to show temper at his work. To go on with him in 
 that state was to ruin him ; the horse would have 
 turned coward, or a confirmed rogue, and never 
 have been to be relied upon in the future. There 
 was nothing for it but to ease him, and it was soon 
 evident that the stopping his work did him good. 
 At last I began to send him along again, and the 
 horse began to gallop quite in his old form. As you 
 know, I was dying to have it out with Sam War- 
 grave and his friends, and was much puzzled how 
 the return match was to be played. I told some of 
 my pals at Tattersall's to keep an eye on them, and 
 soon found out that it was they who had introduced 
 the ■ King ' into the betting market for the Leger, 
 and that they were quietly appropriating all the 
 long shots about him. At the same time it dawned 
 upon me that there would never be time to tho- 
 roughly wind the horse up for Doncaster. He had 
 been eased rather too long. And then it struck me, 
 here was the chance I wanted. I sent a commission 
 to lay into the ring. And as the * King ' kept 
 galloping day after day in capital style, Sam War- 
 
PKAZE EXPLAINS HIS TACTICS. 215 
 
 grave's friends got sweeter and sweeter. The 
 demonstration against the ■ King ' at York was my 
 allies opening with the heavy artillery. For the 
 rest, understand, the ■ King ' was thoroughly well 
 at Doncaster, and ran a good horse, considering he 
 was rather wanting in condition. I put young 
 Darley up, with orders to win if he could ; but 
 not to cut the horse up if he couldn't. He's a 
 clever lad that, and rode strictly to his orders. I 
 am delighted to hear that Sam Wargrave and his 
 friends napped it very hot indeed. 
 
 " Yours sincerely, 
 
 " James Pkaze." 
 
 The cheque, no doubt, was handy, and Tom really 
 was pleased to find that the " King's " defeat was 
 no real blot on his scutcheon, and was to be fully 
 accounted for. But for all that he did not change 
 his intention, but wrote to the trainer, to tell him 
 he wished to dispose of his share of " King of the 
 Huns " as soon as, with a due regard to himself, 
 Praze could conveniently manage it. 
 
 Towards the end of that autumn, there appeared 
 a romance by a new writer, which gradually attracted 
 considerable attention. Neither the press nor the 
 public proclaimed with unnecessary emphasis that 
 a new genius had burst upon the world — new 
 geniuses are apt, by the way, to resemble comets in 
 their very transitory appearance. People talked 
 about it, and what was still more to the*point, read 
 it, and when they had done so, recommended their 
 
216 A KACING RUBBER. 
 
 friends to go and do likewise. Gradually the book 
 was a good deal noticed by the reviewers, not alto- 
 gether for good, for can it be supposed that critics, 
 any more than their fellows, enjoy immunity from 
 derangement of the liver? But upon the whole it 
 was as well reviewed as could be reasonably ex- 
 pected, and better still, some of those who were 
 most appreciative in their judgment, while pointing 
 out faults not unusual especially in a first book, 
 pronounced it to give great promise for the future. 
 Others, whose criticism was marked with more 
 severity, said it was manifestly the work of quite a 
 young man, who had as yet much to learn in the 
 mechanism of his art, but that the book gave them 
 the impression that the writer could do considerably 
 better if he tried, and that they should look 
 forward to his next effort with no little curiosity. 
 In due course, through the medium of the 
 circulating libraries, " A Parthian Flight," as this 
 story was called, found its way down to Chacewater 
 Grange, and was also to be seen on the drawing- 
 room table in Carlingham Park. Miss Wargrave 
 read the book, as Miss Wargrave usually did any 
 light literature that was talked about in Society. 
 It rather struck her fancy, and she held forth so 
 much about it, at a dinner-party at the Grange, to 
 which the Wargraves had been invited, that upon 
 Mrs. Chacewater remarking that it was lying upon 
 the table, Lucy Marton, who was also dining there, 
 forthwith borrowed it and took it home with her. 
 Before Lucy had gone very far into the first volume, 
 
PEAZE EXPLAINS HIS TACTICS. 217 
 
 she was so struck with the book that she involun- 
 tarily turned to the title page to see the name of 
 the author. " Eichard Waters " told her nothing, 
 but the more she read, the more she felt that she 
 recognized the writer. Every trick of thought, and 
 in somes cases even a turn of expression, reminded 
 her of Eeginald. There are very few of us who 
 have not pet phrases of our own. I am not talking 
 of slang or anything of that kind, but an expression 
 in quite ordinary English which has become 
 habitual to our life. I know one man who constantly 
 interlards his conversation with, " What you may 
 call." I don't suppose the majority of people 
 notice it, it is perfectly inoffensive, and I have no 
 doubt that he is perfectly unconscious of doing so. 
 But when you take to putting your thoughts upon 
 paper, it attracts attention which it usually escapes 
 in speech. 
 
 As soon as she had finished the book, Lucy wrote 
 to the publishers to demand the address of Mr. 
 Eichard Waters. She received a courteous reply 
 regretting that they were not at liberty to give it, 
 but that they should be very happy to forward 
 any letter she might think fit to send to that 
 gentleman. She then wrote to Eeginald himself, 
 but received no reply. This was unexpected ; 
 having as she conceived penetrated Eeginald's 
 secret, and discovered his nom de plume, she 
 had anticipated a grateful reply to the pretty letter 
 of congratulation she had written him, and from 
 this acknowledgment she would learn where he 
 
218 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 now was. This artful young woman had an 
 indefinite idea that, once known, the Eector could 
 then mediate between father and son, that is the 
 way she put it to herself, but, in her heart of 
 hearts, she wished to know the truth of this story 
 about Eeginald and Kate Darley. Lucy, as might 
 be conceived, was pretty well up in the gossip of 
 the village to start with, and then her father had 
 made no secret of what he had learnt from Tom 
 Bramber, and in Lucy's eyes an entanglement of 
 that sort was one of the worst things that could 
 possibly befall Eeginald Chacewater. She did not 
 know which was the worst view of the question ; 
 look at it whichever side you might, she looked 
 upon it as his ruin— whether he was to return to 
 the Grange with a girl who from her position was 
 impossible for a wife, or whether the story should 
 gradually be told through all Bottlesby, of how the 
 young Squire had brought shame upon pretty Kate 
 Darley. It might not be too late, if her father 
 could talk to him now it might transpire that 
 though Eeginald had been imprudent he had com- 
 mitted neither folly nor sin. But then, Lucy 
 reflected, the Eector's intervention should be speedy, 
 there was no time to be lost, and yet alas, she was 
 no nearer the discovery of Eeginald's whereabouts 
 than before she penetrated his secret. But when 
 Lucy told her father that she felt perfectly sure that 
 " Eichard Waters," who had written this clever story, 
 and Eeginald were one and the same person, how 
 she had written to the publishers to ask his address, 
 
PRAZE EXPLAINS HIS TACTICS. 219 
 
 and how it had been refused to her, and why she 
 had been so anxious to obtain it, the Eector replied : 
 " I have thought it all well over, and I have decided 
 to go to Chillingham, and see Kate Darley. We 
 don't know where Eeginald is, and I have no reason 
 to think he is there, but we do know Kate is. I 
 shall see her, and must then be guided by circum- 
 stances." 
 
 Lucy warmly applauded her father's decision ; 
 they would at all events then know precisely how 
 things stood with Eeginald and Kate Darley, and 
 she even thought that it was perhaps better, after 
 all, that her old friend should be wedded to Kate, 
 for whom the Eector's daughter had always had a 
 strong liking, than that he should fall a prey to the 
 wiles of that designing minx, Clara Wargrave. 
 
 But there is someone else chafing bitterly over 
 the obscurity in which it has pleased the author of 
 " A Parthian Flight " to shroud himself. There 
 has never been the slightest mystery about who 
 " Eichard Waters " is with Kate. Not only is it the 
 name under which he has gone during the whole 
 time he has been at Chillingham, but she has also 
 received a copy of the book with his handwritiag on 
 the title page ; she is in as complete ignorance of 
 where Eeginald is as Lucy herself, very angry with 
 him in consequence, and still more angry with Tom 
 Bramber, whom she looks upon as the cause of it. She 
 had told herself it was all nonsense, and it was high 
 time she put an end to such folly, but now what she 
 had decided was best done has come about without 
 
220 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 her intervention, Kate is very far from satisfied, 
 She knows at last how much she cares for this man, 
 and she finds that sorrow of parting that she 
 thought she could bear so bravely a much sharper 
 experience than she had looked for. Then she is so 
 pleased and proud of the book, and recognises here 
 and there many scenes which they had talked over 
 together and which she is wild now to talk over 
 again. 
 
 " He might have been here now," she murmurs, 
 "if it hadn't been for that stupid Mr. Bramber. 
 What business had he to come worrying down here ? 
 I'm sure I never gave him any encouragement, he" 
 had no reason to expect anything except ' No ' for 
 an answer. It's too bad ; nobody has any right to 
 interfere with me, except my own father, and from 
 all accounts he's quite content that his children 
 should go their own way, and not trouble him. I'm 
 earning my own living honestly, and I won't have 
 these Bottlesby people prying into my life." And 
 Kate stamps her little foot wrathfully on the floor, as 
 she thinks it is the prying of these Bottlesby people 
 that is the cause of Keginald's absence. 
 
 Poor Tom Bramber ! He had struck a streak of 
 bad luck with a vengeance did he but know it, and 
 is playing his cards to boot as badly as it is possible 
 for a man to play them. Had he only told his love 
 a year ago, he would at all events have found Kate 
 Darley heart-free. Mr. Praze would have told him 
 that he owned the best horse of his year in England, 
 and yet he did not seem able to win a race with 
 
"A PARTHIAN FLIGHT." 221 
 
 him. He was desirous of selling " King of the 
 Huns," or at all events his half of him, and when he 
 succeeded, the chances were, such tricks does 
 Fortune play with her votaries, that " King of the 
 Huns " would carry all before him. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 "A PARTHIAN FLIGHT." 
 
 The more the Eeverend James Marton pondered 
 over this thing, the more he thought it behoved 
 him to interfere ; he was no meddlesome priest, 
 ever anxious to have a finger in his neighbours' 
 affairs, but he honestly looked upon it as his duty 
 to come to the assistance of his parishioners when 
 he saw his way to doing so. He came to the con- 
 clusion, at last, that the first thing to do was to go 
 to Chillingham and see Kate Darley. From Kate 
 he should doubtless ascertain how things stood 
 between her and Eeginald. If he was married to 
 her no one was fitter to mediate between Reginald 
 and his father than himself. It was, of course, by 
 no means the match that the Squire would desire 
 for his son ; that he should be angry and annoyed 
 at it was only natural, and Reginald's con- 
 duct in first allowing that he had perished in the 
 accident in the Regent's Park to be believed, and 
 even yet persistently keeping his whereabouts secret 
 from his family, was still further exasperating to the 
 Squire, no doubt. Clearly the first thing was to see 
 Kate, if it was only the stepping-stone to finding 
 
222 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 out where Eeginald was. That he had left Chilling- 
 ham he knew from Tom Bramber, but Tom had no 
 knowledge of Reginald's proceedings further than 
 that. This was all clear enough, thought the Rector, 
 as he took his ticket for Chillingham, but supposing 
 that other view of the case should present itself, 
 and that he should find Kate Darley not Reginald's 
 wife but his mistress, what was he to do then? 
 He was a man of the world, as well as a clergyman ; 
 he knew well all the misery that such a connection 
 as this usually entails, yet, loss of caste as it is to 
 the woman, how often it proves the ruin of a man's 
 early career. And in the event of there being 
 children, what a blot it was on their lives. As 
 Rector of Bottlesby it behoved him to exhort 
 Reginald to make the one reparation of his fault 
 left to him, but, as a man of the world and the 
 Squire's intimate friend, he felt that to counsel and 
 abet a marriage between his son and the daughter 
 of one of his tenants might lead to a severance of 
 their old friendship and render him powerless to 
 help in bringing about the reconciliation of father 
 and son. Disagreeable reflections these with which 
 to beguile his journey to Chillingham, but the 
 Rector was not of the sort to be deterred from doing 
 his duty because it might not be pleasant, nor was 
 he of a kind to hesitate betwixt his duty to God 
 and man. 
 
 Mr. Marton had no occasion to make any enquiries 
 as to where Miss Darell lived; he had got her 
 address from Bramber before he left, and at once 
 
"A PARTHIAN FLIGHT." 223 
 
 proceeded to Kate's modest lodgings. He was 
 shown up to the sitting-room, and informed that 
 Miss Darell would be down in two or three minutes. 
 He glanced round the room, and then, as people do 
 under similar circumstances, began turning over the 
 books and photographs upon the table. There were 
 several of these latter. Kate in hat and habit, more 
 than one inscribed " Miss Darell, on her celebrated 
 horse 'Selim'"; the redoubtable "Beppo," especially, 
 posed in various attitudes ; but, much to the Eector's 
 relief, there were none of the artiste in short skirts 
 and fleshings. Suddenly a look of interest flashed 
 across his face as he took up one of the books. It 
 was the first volume of " A Parthian Flight," and 
 strong confirmation of Lucy's opinion that Eeginald 
 Chacewater was its author. He turned carelessly to 
 the title-page, on which was written, " Kate Darley, 
 with the Author's love." And this placed it beyond 
 all doubt, for Mr. Marton at once recognised 
 Eeginald's handwriting. 
 
 At this moment the door opened and Kate made 
 her appearance ; though she mastered herself 
 sufficiently to extend her hand and greet the 
 Kector in her accustomed fashion, it was palpable 
 that it was not him she had expected to see. 
 Indeed, no thought of the Eeverend James Marton 
 had ever crossed her mind. The popular equestri- 
 enne was accustomed to be called upon by people 
 in the way of business, sometimes it was a photo- 
 grapher, sometimes it was a gentleman connected 
 with the Press, a messenger from the Hippodrome ; 
 
224 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 but what she had hoped for most on this occasion 
 was that it was someone who brought her news of 
 Keginald, for she had heard nothing of him since 
 he left Chillingham. Not a line even had accom- 
 panied his book, and she so yearned to see him ; 
 she so longed to talk over that book now it was 
 finished as she had talked over and commented on it 
 when it was in course of composition ; she had been 
 carried away by it. She thought it immensely clever, 
 and that the author was destined to take a very 
 foremost place in literature. True, critics had 
 spoken well of it ; but little wonder there was a 
 glamour around that book for Kate Darley, for she 
 made no disguise to herself of her own feelings as 
 regarded the writer. And if the girl who loves you 
 can see nothing in the outcome of your brain, then, 
 verily, a man requires to have much faith in his 
 own abilities. 
 
 There was a pause between them, their first 
 greetings once over, for Kate on her part was mar- 
 velling much to what she was indebted for the 
 Kector's visit, while he, on his side, was a little 
 puzzled how best to set to work on his self-imposed 
 mission. It was hard to arraign the quietly-dressed, 
 pretty, ladylike girl who bade him be seated with so 
 much composure, for her backslidings, and at the 
 same time it would be still more awkward should 
 he hint at such shame to Keginald's lawful wife. 
 At last, taking up the book, he said : 
 
 " I don't want to be indiscreet, Kate, but I have 
 inadvertently received confirmation of what Lucy 
 
"A PARrHIAN FLIGHT." 225 
 
 and I only suspected, and that is that Reginald 
 Chacewater is the author of this very clever novel." 
 
 Kate started ; she knew that was a secret, and for 
 the moment forgot that the inscription on the title- 
 page had probably betrayed it to the Rector. 
 
 " Yes, it is very clever. I don't know " she 
 
 stammered, " the author has not put his name upon 
 the title-page." 
 
 "No," laughed Mr. Marton, "but he has put 
 his handwriting on the title-page, and to one who 
 knows it as well as I do that is quite sufficient. 
 But, Kate, I have come over from Bottlesby on 
 purpose to see you. I have come to see what I can 
 do to put things straight between Reginald and his 
 father." 
 
 Kate made no answer, she would guard Reginald's 
 secrets to the last. She would admit nothing con- 
 cerning the book, she would not even admit that he 
 was living, although she knew from Bramber that had 
 already been discovered. She answered never a word. 
 
 " Kate," he continued, " will you not confide in 
 me ? Believe me I am anxious to smooth things 
 both for you and Reginald. It was Tom Bramber 
 that gave me your address and I came " 
 
 "Tom Bramber!" cried Kate, springing to her 
 feet, while her eyes flashed with anger, and her 
 cheeks flushed at the remembrance of her last 
 interview with Tom. " Mr. Bramber ! " she ex- 
 claimed vehemently, " and what has Mr. Bramber 
 to do with me ? What right has Mr. Bramber to 
 meddle in my affairs ? What business is it of his 
 
 15 
 
226 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 where I live, and what right has he to hunt me out, 
 and proclaim where I am living, and what I am 
 doing upon the housetops ; to spread shameful lies 
 about me ? Yes, lies, Mr. Marton," she continued 
 passionately. " What am I doing here ? Getting 
 my living by riding in a circus, and who, I should 
 like to know, has any right to interfere with me ? " 
 
 She looked very pretty as she paused breathless, 
 with quivering lips, her eyes still sparkling with 
 indignation, her slight figure drawn up to its fall 
 height, her little head thrown defiantly back, and 
 the Eector thought, as he gazed upon her, if Kegi- 
 nald had lost his head about this girl he had good 
 warrant for doing so. He had known both her and 
 her brother from childhood, and he ought to have 
 remembered that hot Darley temper which had got 
 them into so much trouble in their young days. 
 Kate's blood was thoroughly up now, and it was not 
 likely that anything he could say would pacify it for 
 the present. 
 
 " Like Mrs. Chacewater and many other of your 
 best friends," he replied, " I am sorry that you have 
 taken to this mode of life ; it may not be wrong, 
 but it is full of temptation for a girl of your age." 
 
 " You would mew me up in a school-room," she 
 rejoined sullenly. " I, who love horses and revel in 
 a free life. I have chosen my own path, Mr. Marton, 
 Snd I intend to adhere to it. My father cares 
 nothing for what I do as long as I am not a burden 
 on him. It is my own affair, and a girl need not be 
 bad, though she is a circus rider." 
 
"A PARTHIAN FLIGHT." 227 
 
 " But, Kate," he expostulated. 
 
 " Let me go my own way/' she replied angrily, 
 " you, at all events, have nothing to say to it." 
 
 He saw it was no use to pursue the subject 
 further, and reflected somewhat ruefully that so far 
 he had failed signally in his errand, and knew no 
 more what the relations were between her and Regi- 
 nald than when he started. " If you will not listen 
 to me about yourself," he said at length, " you will 
 at all events tell me where I can find Reginald. 
 His father is very wroth with him, and, in my 
 opinion, every day he persists in keeping them in 
 ignorance at the Grange of where he is and what 
 he is doing makes a reconciliation between him and 
 his father more difficult." 
 
 " I will tell you not one word about Reginald 
 Chacewater," she answered. " I do not even ac- 
 knowledge that he was the author of that book ; his 
 secrets and his motives are his own, and, as far as I 
 know them, will never be betrayed by me." 
 
 There was a quiet, dogged determination in her 
 tones that recalled to the Rector some of the stormy 
 hours of Kate's school-days. He knew there was 
 nothing to be done with her now ; that to make her 
 speak in her present mood was hopeless, and yet, as 
 he rose, he could not refrain from saying, " Reginald 
 Chacewater was in Chillingham, I know." 
 
 " He may have been," was Kate's cool reply, with 
 a quiet inclination of her head. 
 
 "Do you know where he is now?" he asked 
 abruptly. 
 
 15* 
 
228 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 "No, Mr. Marton; I do not," replied the girl, 
 " and, as I said before, if I did, I would not tell you." 
 
 " Then I can be of no good here," replied the 
 Eector. " I can only hope, Kate, that you will never 
 repent having so rigidly withheld from me your 
 confidence." And with these words, Mr. Marton ex- 
 tended his hand and bade Kate a courteous good-bye, 
 though he confessed to his daughter afterwards that, 
 as he went down the staircase, he felt as if he could 
 have shaken the girl for her obstinate reticence. 
 
 Sundry desultory and abortive enquiries after 
 Reginald in Chillingham, and then the Rector be- 
 took himself to the railway-station, made the best 
 of his way back to Bottlesby, and was fain to ac- 
 knowledge on his homeward journey that he might 
 as well have remained at home for all the good 
 which he had accomplished. True, Kate Darley 
 had pronounced all the scandal about her to be an 
 infamous lie, but then he had only her own word for 
 it, and then the Rector sadly reflected that he had 
 known young women assert their innocence under 
 similar circumstances upon more than one occasion, 
 and that the future had far from justified their denial. 
 
 Very dissatified was Kate as she thought over her 
 interview with Mr. Marton. She was annoyed beyond 
 measure to hear that her old friends at Bottlesby 
 disapproved of the line of life she had adopted. It 
 was hard that she should be interfered with ; she 
 was earning her bread honestly, and in a manner 
 that she took pride and pleasure in. "I was very 
 happy indeed," she mused, " with Mrs. Chacewater, 
 
"A PAKTHIAN FLIGHT." 223 
 
 and I am sorry she should think it of me, but then 
 I know I was more a companion to her daughter 
 than a governess ; it was not likely that I should 
 ever get another situation like that, and I have need 
 of patience and of temper for the course of life they 
 would have mapped out for me. I never could keep 
 my temper with anything but horses, and since I have 
 been in the circus, they have taught me to be still 
 more patient with them, while Jim writes me word 
 that it is just the same at Newmarket, and that Mr. 
 Praze says that three-fourths of the bad-tempered 
 horses are only what the boys made them. I am 
 sorry even that Mr. Marton should think ill of me, 
 but it is done now and I wouldn't change it if I 
 could. Oh, Keginald, Eeginald, if you would only 
 write to me, I would care little what they said or 
 thought about me. 1 so long to see you again, to 
 congratulate you about your book, and to talk it all 
 over with you, to know how you are and what you 
 are doing ; if I could but see you again, if it were 
 only for an afternoon, even if I could only write to 
 you. It was cruel of you to leave me so hurriedly, 
 with your kiss on my lips, and no word of where you 
 were going. Never to let me have a line since; 
 if you had thirsted for news of me only a tenth as 
 much as I do to hear of you, I should have had a 
 letter from you long ago." 
 
 Kate Darley, indeed, was getting very restless and 
 unhappy; she had no idea what had become of 
 Eeginald, nor indeed, as she ascertained by diligent 
 enquiry, had any one of the troupe. There was 
 
230 A RACING- RUBBER. 
 
 nothing very singular after all, Kate was compelled 
 to admit, in the fact that Reginald should have not 
 confided to any of his small circle of acquaintance 
 whither he was going ; she knew that his ambition 
 was to achieve a great literary success, to clear off 
 his debts with the proceeds thereof, and then to 
 return laurel-crowned and triumphant to his family. 
 Well, the success was accomplished, surely the 
 money must be flowing in now, and there could be 
 no reason for his further concealment, but any way 
 there could be no need of his concealing himself from 
 her. Ah ! she had told herself all along, again and 
 again had she said that he was only amusing him- 
 self with her, that theirs was one of those pleasant 
 flirtations which seem so much and mean so little. 
 
 " And tbe best and the worst of this is 
 That neither is most to blame, 
 If you've forgotten my kisses 
 And I've forgotton your name." 
 
 Lotos eating, she had called it, and vowed that she 
 should take no harm by it. Fool that she had been, 
 she could not say so now. She knew, with a sore 
 sting in her heart, that she had toyed with the 
 flames and that they had scorched her ; she thought 
 they could be good comrades, but he had taught her 
 to love him, had won her heart, and now she was 
 forgotten. The sunlight had gone out of her life 
 and Kate clung more closely to her profession than 
 ever as the sole thing that took her out of herself. 
 But it is easy to change all that when one is in 
 love and nineteen. Coming back one evening from 
 
"A PARTHIAN FLIGHT." 231 
 
 the Hippodrome, Kate found a letter that brought 
 back the smiles to her lips and made her pulses 
 tingle again with delight. 
 
 It was from Keginald, and dated from a place 
 called Twybury, distant only some two hours by rail. 
 He spoke with pride of the success of his book. " I 
 should be hard to please," he said, "were I not 
 content with the reviews as a whole. Home hard 
 knocks I was bound to get, did any man ever do any- 
 thing worth doing that there were not some to rail 
 at it ? and on the whole the Press have been very 
 kind to me. I ought to be both proud and pleased, 
 I have succeeded beyond my deserts, and yet I am 
 not contented. Don't think me a sordid creature, 
 Kate, but you know I had hoped to gain money by 
 this. It was not from a mean motive. I hoped by 
 the work of my own hands to pay what I owe, 
 without troubling my relations, but fame alas, is not 
 always accompanied by riches, and it seems the first 
 book, though successful, may bring the writer but 
 small recompense for his labours. Write to me 
 under the old name, but let no one know where I 
 am living, as I must remain a bit longer in obscurity. 
 You have done better with your new life, Kate, than 
 I have. You at all events can earn your living, and 
 it is not quite clear to me as yet that I can. 
 "Ever dear, most sincerely thine, 
 
 " K. W." 
 
 Not a very passionate letter this, but for all that 
 it sent Kate to bed happy and contented. 
 
232 A EACING KUI3BER. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 With the coming spring the legitimate turf world 
 began to bestir itself, I mean that genuine section of 
 its followers which turns up its nose at all hybrid 
 branches of the sport it loves so well, and is not to be 
 interested by any cross-country business, save per- 
 chance the Grand National. For three months it 
 had lived more or less in a state of torpor, beguiling 
 itself by conning the racing records of the past year 
 and vainly exercising its judgment as to what was 
 to turn out the best three-year-old of the coming 
 season. With the publication of the weights of the 
 spring handicaps, pulses quickened and both backers 
 and layers began once more to argue and sub- 
 stantiate their opinions in that manner so dear to all 
 Englishmen. Mr. Praze down at Newmarket studies 
 these weights with a practised eye, and is ap- 
 parently by no means dissatisfied with something he 
 sees in them. He has made no very strenuous en- 
 deavours to carry out Tom Bramber's instructions 
 and has not as yet disposed of Bramber's moiety of 
 " King of the Huns " ; that noble animal conse- 
 quently figures in that gentleman's name in all the 
 spring handicaps. I am writing be it remembered of 
 the old plunging days, before the romance of the turf 
 
THE SPRING HANDICAPS. 233 
 
 had died out, when yearling books were afloat and it 
 was possible to back a horse to be champion three- 
 year-old of his year, to win a hundred thousand 
 pounds before he had ever even seen a race-course ; 
 when the betting on big handicaps commenced in 
 heavy fashion, not only the moment the weights for 
 them were out, but even long before. As Mr. Praze 
 superintends the work of his string this morning 
 on the Heath, he eyes the " King of the Huns " 
 narrowly, watches him stride easily along in his 
 three-quarter-speed gallop under Jim Parley's hands 
 and eyes him closely as he pulls up. That the 
 horse has wintered well and grown into a magni- 
 ficent specimen of a thorough-bred there can be no 
 doubt, and the gloss on his coat and the way the 
 muscles stands out about his thighs and quarters 
 show him to be very forward in condition. 
 
 " Ah," mutters Mr. Praze to himself, " there you 
 are, the very best of your year I'll swear it, and yet 
 you ungrateful vagabond, what have you done for 
 those who brought you up, and fed you, and trained 
 you? Nothing but win an ordinary Biennial at 
 Newmarket, and why ? on account of your beastly 
 temper ; if you hadn't sulked at Epsom last spring 
 you could have won fast enough, though you were 
 knocked into. If you hadn't sulked on your own 
 gallop and made me afraid to go with you, you 
 would have won the Leger. And now here you are 
 —a horse that ought to have won the Derby, turned 
 loose in the City and Suburban with eight stone four 
 on your worthless back. Win it ?— yes you can win it 
 
234 A KACING- KUBBEE. 
 
 the length of a street if you choose to try ; I wonder 
 whether you will. Yes, legs are a trial, roaring is a 
 sore trouble, but for a downright double-distilled 
 curse, calculated to ruin a millionaire, give me a real 
 good horse with a bad temper." 
 
 Whatever Mr. Praze might think, the si King of 
 the Huns " did not at all commend himself to the 
 general public. The colt made his debut last year 
 with a great flourish of trumpets, which he had to 
 some extent justified by winning the Biennial in 
 the hollowest of fashions, but since then he had 
 very much discounted that performance by proving 
 a disastrous failure ; he had started a hot favourite 
 for the Derby and had finished nowhere ; similarly 
 at Doncaster, although he had been again backed 
 for a great deal of money, he had not taken any 
 prominent part in the race. The body of the public 
 as a rule do not forgive disappointments, and many 
 who had stuck staunchly to " King of the Huns " 
 and clever James Praze all last year now renounced 
 their allegiance, vowed that the " King " was an 
 immensely over- rated horse, and that for once Praze 
 had made a mistake, that the Biennial had been all 
 a fluke, that the horse had made the most of a 
 capital start, had been more forward in condition 
 than any of his opponents and so had never been 
 caught. And not only was this the case with the 
 general public but even old turfites took this view. 
 Mr. Sam Wargrave and his friends, for instance, had 
 come to the conclusion that the starting of " Cock- 
 chafer " at Epsom had been a somewhat unnecessary 
 
THE SPRING HANDICAPS. 235 
 
 precaution on their part, that the " King " would 
 have been beaten upon his own merits precisely as 
 he was at Doncaster. The consequence was that 
 much to his satisfaction Mr. Praze saw no dis- 
 position on the part of anyone to introduce the 
 name of "King of the Huns" into the betting 
 market. But there was one person to whom what 
 the " King " was to do in the forthcoming season 
 was a most momentous question, and that was Jim 
 Darley. That his horse was the best in England 
 was an article of faith with Jim, and that if he was 
 only given a chance on the back of the " King " 
 this spring he would prove that last year's running 
 was all wrong he believed implicitly ; he had been 
 too long in a racing stable not to feel sure that the 
 " King " was not at his best when he rode him in 
 the Leger, and whatever he might do in the hands 
 of another jockey, Jim felt certain the horse would 
 run straight enough in his hands. Which of these 
 handicaps would Mr. Praze run him for and would 
 he be allowed to ride him ? These questions con- 
 sumed Jim's soul with feverish anxiety ; he had not 
 spent three years on the Heath without having 
 learnt something about the apportioning of weights, 
 and he knew that a four year old which ought to have 
 won the Derby in the preceding year to have got 
 into three of the Spring Handicaps at the slightly 
 varying imposts allotted to the " King " was a piece 
 of great luck. Which would he run for ? would he, 
 Jim Darley, be allowed to ride ? He would have 
 given all he possessed, not that that was much, to 
 
236 A EACING EUBBEE. 
 
 ask the trainer these questions, more especially 
 the latter, but he dared not. Though kind to his 
 boys Mr. Praze was a rigid disciplinarian, requiring 
 unquestioning obedience, and rarely condescending 
 to speak much to them. 
 
 Jim literally tingled with excitement to the tips 
 of his fingers when, the work finished one morning, 
 on returning to the stables the trainer said quietly : 
 " Come up to the house, Darley, as soon as you have 
 done your horse, I've got a question or two to ask 
 
 you." 
 
 The "King" conscientiously dressed down, and 
 his clothing replaced, Jim hurried off to hear what 
 Mr. Praze might want with him. 
 
 " Now, Darley," said the trainer, " do you remem- 
 ber what I said to you before the Leger ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," rejoined the boy, " you said, ' Eide this 
 race exactly as I have told you; remember I'll 
 forgive your not winning, but if you don't ride 
 strictly according to orders, you won't be wanted 
 to ride in public any more.' " 
 
 " Just so," replied Mr. Praze. " You did what you 
 were told and I was perfectly satisfied with you. 
 Now did the horse show temper with you any time 
 during that race ? " 
 
 " No, sir, he ran honest as daylight, until he was 
 beat, but I think— I think " 
 
 " Don't do that, Darley," replied the trainer with 
 a smile, "you're not paid for it. However, just 
 this once let's hear what you do think." 
 
 "That the 'King' wasn't the horse he was at 
 
THE SPRING HANDICAPS. 237 
 
 Epsom," blurted out Jim, not a little scared at his 
 own audacity. 
 
 " And he's never shown temper with you since ? ' 
 enquired Mr. Praze, without taking the slightest 
 notice of the opinion he had elicited. 
 
 " Never since last summer, sir, he goes as kindlj 
 as any horse can." 
 
 " That'll do, Parley," replied Mr. Praze ; " very 
 likely you'll get a chance of sporting silk before the 
 spring's over. Always stick strictly to orders and 
 don't talk, mind." 
 
 It was with a sense of great elation that Jim 
 walked away from his interview with his master. 
 He was to have his chance then this spring and take 
 the second step in the career he had marked out 
 for himself. In his eyes a crack jockey towered 
 far above a leading statesman. Eminent lawyers, 
 actors, artists, were all nobodies compared to the 
 leaders of his own vocation ; to have ridden the 
 winner of the Derby was a far greater thing than 
 to have delivered the greatest oration ever heard at 
 Westminster. Now was his chance. " King of the 
 Huns " was himself again, and no more like the 
 horse that he had felt dying away under him on 
 Doncaster Town Moor than a man in rude health is 
 like the same man much below par. His first 
 instinct was to crush his fellows with the intelli- 
 gence ; the dearest aspiration of most of them was 
 that they, in course of time, might be trusted to 
 bestride their charges in public, and in the days of 
 our callow youth to brag of any slight success of 
 
238 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 this kind is well-nigh irresistible, but Jim clenched 
 his teeth sternly and muttered, " ' Don't talk,' he said, 
 and dash it, I won't." Jim Darley had never had 
 much reverence for his betters, nor of those set in 
 authority over him, but if there was any one in this 
 world of whom he did stand really in awe, it was 
 Mr. Praze. 
 
 Tom Bramber at Bottlesby in the meantime has 
 been very busy making preparations for giving up 
 his farm and for leaving the place. He is to be 
 quit of the land at Lady Day and all his stock and 
 plant is to be brought to the hammer some two or 
 three weeks before. He pays little attention to 
 what is going on in the racing world and has not 
 even noticed that " King of the Huns " figures in 
 his name amongst the entries of several of the 
 spring handicaps. He has bothered his head 
 nothing about the colt, Praze will sell his half for 
 him, as soon as he finds a favourable opportunity, 
 there can be no difficulty about that, and cruelly 
 disappointing though the " King " has been to 
 them, he is at all events worth a good deal more 
 than they gave for him. Tom has grown somewhat 
 morose of late, and held himself aloof from his old 
 friends and acquaintances, while the gentlemen and 
 farmers round Bottlesby are much of the general 
 opinion and look upon " King of the Huns " as an 
 impostor. 
 
 The world is wont to be harsh in its judgment on 
 those who disappoint it ; when it is whispered about 
 that great things may be expected from either man 
 
THE SPRING HANDICAPS. 239 
 
 or horse, to fail is to become an object of derision. 
 There used to be between the shafts of a hack- 
 cabriolet that plied for hire in the town of Andover 
 a horse whose sire had won the Derby, arjd whose 
 mother had been hailed winner of the Oaks. 
 Great things had been expected of that high-bred 
 youngster when he made his entree into public life ; 
 and that was how it had all ended. 
 
 Neither the Squire nor Mr. Marton thought any- 
 thing about " King of the Huns " this year ; they 
 had both quite sufficient to occupy their minds in 
 this business of Eeginald's and Kate Darley's. 
 Whatever the rest of the village might think, both 
 at the Grange and the Rectory they knew how 
 bitterly Tom Bramber was cut up with Kate's rejec- 
 tion ; that it was the reason why he was leaving the 
 home of his childhood, and that the wound was as 
 yet so sore that it was cruel even to touch upon the 
 subject. That Kate had thrown his honest love on 
 one side, for the sake of a life of shame with 
 Reginald Chacewater, rankled sorely in Tom 
 Bramber's heart, and should opportunity serve of 
 taking vengeance on her seducer he vowed that 
 nothing should stay his hand. All idea that Kate 
 and Reginald were married was now rapidly dying 
 away amongst those it most concerned ; the Rector 
 and Tom Bramber were, we know, of that opinion, 
 and at the Grange, Herbert Chacewater and his 
 wife had come reluctantly to the conclusion that 
 some time must elapse before their son can return 
 to them ; not, indeed, until this unfortunate con- 
 
240 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 nection was either put an end to or perchance made 
 lawful. 
 
 But there was one more household in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Bottlesby to whom this question of 
 Reginald's entanglement was also of absorbing 
 interest, and that was the family at Carlingham 
 Park. If Miss Wargrave had welcomed the news 
 that Reginald was alive with delight, it was with a 
 feeling of angry disappointment she received the 
 further intelligence that Kate Darley was the 
 companion of his flight and had been the cause of 
 all this mystification. She had no recollection of 
 having ever set eyes upon Kate, but she had no 
 difficulty in finding out who she was, and that the 
 daughter of a mere Bottlesby farmer should dare to 
 come between her and her schemes, should have 
 attracted the notice of the prince whom she herself 
 condescended to favour, moved Clara's wrath not a 
 little. Scant mercy would she have shown her rival 
 had she lived in the feudal times, and old Darley 
 been one of her father's retainers. Still, after all, 
 she reflected that things looked better for her than 
 they had done since the first news of that dreadful 
 accident. When a man is once dead there is no 
 more to be done ; he has run his race, and there is 
 nothing in this world can affect him more ; but as 
 long as he is alive there is no saying what tact and 
 perseverance may not persuade him to do. As 
 before said, Clara Wargrave was a good-looking girl 
 and accustomed to make the most of every point in 
 her game. She neglected no adjunct of dress and 
 
THE SPEING HANDICAPS. 241 
 
 millinery; she was quite aware that if she could 
 boast no family, she was, at all events, " a lass wi' a 
 tocher." 
 
 " Bah," she said to her father, with a shrug of her 
 shoulders, " it's very provoking of him, but men 
 are such fools. This minx, no doubt, for the 
 present can turn him round her finger; but he'll 
 soon get tired of her dairymaid charms, and be 
 only too glad to have done with his pretty play- 
 thing." 
 
 " But suppose, Clara, she is married to him ? " said 
 her father. " There was a report to that effect some 
 little time back." 
 
 " When I said men were such fools, I didn't 
 suppose that even Keginald Chacewater could be 
 such a fool as that ; at all events, papa, what you 
 have to do is to find out at once where he is, and as 
 much as you can about their connection. She is 
 dancing or something of that kind in a booth at 
 Chillingham, and wherever she is, depend upon it 
 he is not far off. As he is holding no communi- 
 cation with his father, they are probably in great 
 poverty; so much the better for what I want. 
 Nothing, I should think, brings a deplorable 
 mistake of that kind home to a young man much 
 more quickly than poverty. Find out all about him 
 for me, father. It should be easy, and, remember, 
 the first thing you have to do is to detach him from 
 that girl." 
 
 Sam Wargrave readily promised to do as his 
 daughter desired ; a clever, successful, unscrupulous 
 
 16 
 
242 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 man, he had swept greater obstacles from his path 
 than this promised to be, in his day. He was 
 anxious that Clara should marry Keginald Chace- 
 water for many reasons ; not perhaps the least that 
 his own peace and quietness depended a good deal 
 on getting the fair Clara satisfactorily settled. If 
 money and unwearied enquiry could do it, Sam 
 Wargrave resolved that he would know all about 
 Keginald Chacewater before a week was done. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 When Kate Darley came to re-read Reginald's letter 
 and muse over it, she became conscious of a strain 
 of great depression running through it ; his book 
 was a success, and yet it seemed to her that it was 
 also a disappointment ; as yet it was evident that the 
 labour of months had produced no monetary results. 
 And it is an old-world story, how often the fruits of 
 their first literary labours have been but dust and 
 ashes to men embarked on that thorny career. But 
 when those who sit in judgment have recognised 
 the merits of the performance, it does seem hard 
 that the more solid guerdon should not also at once 
 reward the craftsman. Reginald had yet to learn 
 that the gathering of the harvest is slow when 
 one's name is as yet unknown. He is indeed 
 a little anxious about his own position ; he has 
 come very nearly to the end of his resources ; and, 
 economise as he may, it is evident that he must 
 
TRACKED DOWN. 243 
 
 speedily find some way of earning money to enable 
 him to live. He is diffident about writing to bis 
 publishers, to ask them if there are no profits due to 
 him on account of " A Parthian Flight," while on 
 their side, they are waiting until the book is doing 
 well, which will enable them to send him a sub- 
 stantial cheque. It is true he can live very cheaply 
 at Twybury, but as for procuring employment, that 
 seems rather difficult. In the first flush of his 
 success, he thought that it would be easy to get 
 something to do in his own line. But one weekly 
 paper is as much as Twybury can support ; and its 
 limited staff, which combined other avocations with 
 that of journalism, amply sufficed for its require- 
 ments. Placing one's candle under a bushel is a 
 mistake very few of us ever fall into ; but what is to 
 be done with a man who, after achieving a literary 
 success, persists in remaining incognito in these 
 days ? 
 
 The more Kate pondered over that letter, the 
 more the desire grew upon her to see the writer 
 again ; why should she not ? It was easy enough 
 to run over to Twybury for the day ; it was only 
 asking to be taken out of the bill for one afternoon 
 at the Hippodrome. She would do it ; she would 
 speak to the manager at once ; run over to Twybury 
 the next morning, and be back again in Chilling- 
 ham in time to ride " Beppo " at the Hippodrome 
 in the evening. The manager made no difficulties ; 
 and having telegraphed to Eeginald to meet her at 
 the station, Kate started in high spirits oh her 
 
 16* 
 
244 A KACING KUBBEB. 
 
 proposed expedition. As soon as her eye fell upon 
 Eeginald, she recognised that things were not well 
 with him, there was a worn and weary look upon 
 his face, and the quick eye of a woman was not 
 likely to overlook the traces of narrow circum- 
 stances which a man's dress is apt to betray when 
 the shoe begins to pinch hard. Glad as he was to 
 see her, Eeginald, on the whole, would rather that 
 she had not come. He was somewhat ashamed that 
 Kate should see him in his present circumstances. 
 He had never affected to be anything but poor, at 
 Chillingham, but there are gradations of poverty ; 
 and there he had always had a sufficiency, and been 
 able to live much as his companions of the Hippo- 
 drome did ; but now it had come to that, with him, 
 that the cost of his dinner was a matter of profound 
 calculation, and the nice little luncheon that he 
 gave Kate at the hotel would entail a couple of 
 days' abstinence. He strove hard to put a cheerful 
 face on things, but he did not deceive Kate Darley 
 in the least. He confessed that, as yet, he had 
 derived no solid results from his book, and laughed, 
 and said : Well, he had won fame, and that should 
 be enough for him. Did she not remember Byron's 
 lines ? 
 
 " For this we spurn Apollo's venal son, 
 And bid a long good-night to Marmion." 
 
 Not that his lordship was at all above taking his 
 dues a little later, filling his pockets, forsooth, in a 
 fashion that makes one's mouth water. 
 
TKACKED DOWN. 245 
 
 Then they discussed the book again ; and Kate, 
 craftiest of coquettes, quoted some few of the pas- 
 sages that had particularly struck her. She 
 declared that it was a mere question of time ; that 
 good work in this world was always paid for in the 
 end — which showed less knowledge of the world 
 than innocent belief in it — and that, ere many days 
 had passed, she was sure he would hear satis- 
 factorily from his publishers. Then Keginald had 
 to hear about all his old friends of the circus ; to 
 learn how Tom Bramber had called upon her. 
 Kate rather slurred over the account of Bramber's 
 visit, and flushed a good deal as she alluded to it. 
 Then she recounted how Mr. Marton had also been 
 to see her, and had been very urgent that she 
 should give him his, Eeginald's, address. " But as I 
 didn't know, I couldn't. Not that there was any 
 need, sir, for you to take such a precaution with me 
 — I told him that I would not tell him, even if I 
 knew ; nor yet betray any other secret of yours. 
 And yet, Reginald, I did ; but, indeed, it wasn't my 
 fault ; your book was lying on the table, he took it 
 up, and at once recognised your hand-writing on the 
 title-page. I would not acknowledge that it was 
 yours, but he only laughed, and said that Miss Marton 
 had recognised it as such, as soon as she read it." 
 
 " Then the murder's out," laughed Reginald. 
 " Not that it much matters. Little as I have 
 dabbled with literature in London, I know the name 
 of an author whose book has hit the mark is an 
 open secret in a very short time." 
 
246 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 " And now it's getting time I was off," exclaimed 
 Kate ; " it would never do for Signorina Darell to 
 disappoint the public. Come and see me off, Eeggie, 
 won't you ? " 
 
 So those two walked quietly down to the railway 
 station, and having ensconced her in a carriage he 
 stood talking to her at the window till the bell rang. 
 "Good-bye," she said. "I have hurriedly brought 
 you a little souvenir which I hope you will find 
 useful," and as she spoke she slipped a small parcel 
 into his hand. "Good luck, and God bless you, 
 don't leave me so long without a letter again." 
 
 The train sped rapidly out of the station and 
 Reginald for two or three minutes stood looking 
 rather sadly after it. Kate had done him good, 
 and, as a brave-hearted woman can, made him take 
 a much more cheerful view of the situation. He 
 would not give in as yet at all events ; nonsense, 
 he had done by far the most difficult part, had 
 proved at all events it was not all a mistake, 
 that there was some good in him, the money would 
 come eventually ; he would not go home to his 
 friends with empty pockets, a mere suppliant for 
 alms, though how on earth he was to live just at 
 present was, he admitted, an inscrutable mystery. 
 Then he bethought himself of Kate's present; he 
 opened the packet and turned over the neat little 
 silver mounted note-book it contained, half mechani- 
 cally ; it would come in very useful in his present 
 vocation, and it was awfully kind of Kate to think 
 of him. He was turning the leaves of it over idly 
 
TRACKED DOWN. 247 
 
 when a small pocket in the cover attracted his 
 attention ; another second and he had drawn from 
 it a bank-note for ten pounds, and realized what the 
 kind-hearted girl had meant by her souvenir. He 
 knew this was probably pretty well the whole of 
 Kate's store, that it was to avoid all possible chance 
 of refusal on his part that she had thrust it upon 
 him in this manner. Men don't take money in this 
 wise, although the papers daily record the doings of 
 caricatures of them who ask nothing better, and for 
 a moment Reginald's brow reddened at taking 
 assistance, sadly though he needed it, at Kate 
 Darley's hands. Then with a big oath, he muttered, 
 " She's a girl in a thousand, and if she was born 
 to wear stuff gowns instead of silk, she's the 
 brightest, pluckiest, prettiest girl I ever met ; I'll 
 accept her loan, and may I never prosper in this 
 world if it's not repaid in full before three months 
 are over." He wrote a very pretty letter of 
 acknowledgment the next day, and in it he asked 
 Kate to pledge herself to pay him another visit that 
 day month. 
 
 Kate's note-book seemed to have brought luck 
 with it, for within a week Eeginald received a letter 
 from his publishers, to whom he was only known 
 as Richard Waters, congratulating him on his 
 success, and enclosing him a cheque for £50 as a first 
 instalment of his share of the profits accruing from 
 " A Parthian Flight." 
 
 It was a very long way off, those waters of Pactolus 
 that Reginald in his sanguine nature had pictured 
 
248 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 to himself as the results when he first read these 
 favourable reviews, still, to borrow a metaphor 
 from the prize-ring, there is much satisfaction in 
 first blood, and even his publishers held out hope 
 that this was but the herald of further remittances, 
 and though Keginald could not but admit that the 
 liquidation of his debts promised to be as slow a 
 process as those of the nation, yet, thanks to the 
 elasticity of youth, they weighed no more upon him 
 now than do Britannia's. He wrote in the highest 
 spirits to Kate Darley, acquitting himself of his 
 debt and promising her a perfect banquet upon her 
 next visit. Kate was delighted to find how speedily 
 her prognostications had been realised, though she 
 did think that he need not have been in such a des- 
 perate hurry to return her money. Still she was 
 very pleased at the good news, although she shook 
 her head slightly over Keginald's sanguine views ; 
 she did not know what his debts amounted to, but 
 she fancied that fifty pounds would produce no very 
 serious impression on them ; that the Squire had 
 discharged all these debts long ago had never 
 occurred to Eeginald, and was naturally still less 
 likely to occur to Kate. The same post had brought 
 to her a letter from another equally sanguine young 
 gentleman ; Jim had written to her in the most 
 exalted strain ; his chance was come. 
 
 w Never mind what he did last year, his running 
 was all wrong. I tell you ' King of the Huns • is a 
 great horse, and is sure to win the City and Sub- 
 urban, and I am to ride him ! Think of that, Kate, 
 
TKACKED DOWN. 243 
 
 I tell you it's a certainty ; if I don't win, well, I can 
 never expect Praze to put me up again ; rny chance 
 has come, I tell you, and if I don't make an outrageous 
 idiot of myself this time, I shall get a bit of riding 
 before the year's out. It's a * moral,' I tell you." 
 
 " Ah, Jim, my dear," said Kate as she shook her 
 head over this letter, " I'm very glad your chance is 
 coming to you and trust with all my heart you will 
 be successful, but as for those ' morals,' my dear, I 
 don't think I'll meddle with them any more. Didn't 
 I nearly break the whole Hippodrome last May over 
 1 King of the Huns ' ? Why, I shouldn't even dare 
 to mention his name, the whole troupe would laugh 
 at me, and say that I brought them to penury last 
 spring." 
 
 But for all these virtuous resolutions, Kate took 
 much too great an interest in Jim's career not to 
 cast an eye pretty regularly over the betting on the 
 City and Suburban, wherein " King of the Huns " 
 figured every now and then at from twenty-five to 
 thirty to one. 
 
 It is usually the most ordinary oversight that 
 leads to the detection of the fugitive criminal, and 
 Reginald Chacewater, because he has so many 
 months baffled all enquiry, has now grown fatuous 
 as the ostrich and does not see that his discovery is 
 imminent. The supposition that he had perished 
 in the accident in the Regent's Park had stopped 
 all search on the part of his family in the first 
 instance. Now it was well known that he was 
 alive, and but a short time ago had been living in 
 
250 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 Chillingham ; then again, if he had only reflected, 
 the Eector and Lucy were aware that he was the 
 author of A Parthian Flight, and that Eichard 
 Waters and Eeginald Chacewater were one and the 
 same person, and it was but natural to suppose 
 that his publishers would be in possession of his 
 address. What was still more to the point too, 
 was, there was someone now determined to find 
 him, of a very different calibre from either the 
 Squire or the Eeverend James Mart on, to wit, Sam 
 Wargrave. Sam in the course of his varied career 
 had been engaged in a good many queer schemes, 
 and an accurate knowledge of what other people 
 were doing had been more than once, in his 
 opinion, conducive to his benefit, both in mercantile 
 transactions and on the turf. Taking up the clue 
 at Chillingham, a sharp detective in Mr. Wargrave's 
 employ had been for some days actively engaged in 
 endeavouring to trace whither Eeginald had gone. 
 In possession of all particulars of the case, this 
 man had at once decided to keep a close watch 
 over Kate Darley, and, though she was quite un- 
 aware of it, outside her lodgings or at the theatre, 
 she was never allowed to move without this unseen 
 attendant ; he had been at her heels on the morning 
 that she took her ticket to Twybury, had travelled 
 with her by the same train, seen her meeting with 
 Eeginald at the station, had written to Mr. War- 
 grave to inform him that he had found " the lost 
 mutton," and was now keeping sedulous watch and 
 ward over Eeginald at Twybury. Mr. Wargrave 
 
TRACKED DOWN. 251 
 
 so far was well pleased with the return he was 
 having for his money ; he and Clara kept their 
 surreptitiously acquired knowledge entirely to 
 themselves ; other people might think that it was 
 no concern of theirs what Eeginald Chacewater 
 chose to do, but Sam Wargrave and his daughter 
 thought it mattered a good deal ; their spy re- 
 ported that Mr. Waters, as he called himself, was 
 apparently very hard up, that Miss Darley was still at 
 Chillingham and had only been once over to see him. 
 
 " Hard up, my dear ; hard up you see, he says, 
 can't be too hard up ; as nothing, Clara, depend upon 
 it, brings home to a young man the folly of that 
 sort of connection like empty pockets. A very little 
 longer and this Darley girl will get tired of support- 
 ing him out of her earnings, and then you see, Clara, 
 I'll walk in as a friend of the family, write him a 
 cheque for a thousand or whatever it ma^y be he 
 wants, bring about a reconciliation and generally 
 play the part of the stage uncle. After that, my 
 dear, the game's in your hands." 
 
 "Yes, papa," returned the young lady, with a 
 complacent smile, " once disentangle him from the 
 web this artful hussy has woven round him and I 
 think you may leave him pretty safely to me. 
 You'll see he'll be a little penitent and a little 
 ashamed of having made such a fool of himself and 
 so quite willing to do what he's told. Besides, after 
 his late experiences, I think I can say without 
 vanity I count for something. Poor fellow, how 
 glad he'll be to escape from his bondage." 
 
-52 A RACING- RUBBER. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 i( REGINALD TAKES LONG ODDS." 
 
 Whatever poverty may compel, one of the first 
 instincts of a man who has been brought up as a 
 gentleman is to repair the ravages in his attire, and 
 to once more dress in accordance with his former 
 station. Marryat in one of his novels relates of 
 the hero who from great indigence was suddeoly 
 restored to affluence, that his first impulse was to 
 send out a servant to procure befitting clothes and 
 some Eau de Cologne. Similarly, no sooner had 
 Reginald succeeded in obtaining cash for his pub- 
 lishers' cheque, than he also renovated his wardrobe. 
 Under the pressure of hunger we rapidly revert to 
 the primaeval, and are apt to regard as superfluities 
 all clothing that can be converted into food. The 
 change in Reginald's raiment did not escape the 
 eye of Mr. Wargrave's lynx-eyed agent, and, though 
 of course, he did not know whence, he reported to 
 that gentleman that the strain was relaxed, that 
 Mr. Waters had evidently obtained assistance from 
 somewhere, and was once more frequenting respect- 
 able hotels and dining-rooms. If Sam "Wargrave 
 had been well served all his life it was no more than 
 he deserved ; he always employed good workmen, 
 and, for such service as this, not only the best he 
 could lay hands on, but was no niggard of his 
 
KEGINALD TAKES LONG ODDS. 253 
 
 gold to boot. His instructions to the detective had 
 been brief, but peremptory: "It won't," he said, " I 
 fancy, be a very long job, but now you've found this 
 Waters, stick to him like a leech ; I want to know 
 how he lives, everything he does, everything about 
 him ; remember, he oughtn't even to sneeze with- 
 out your knowing it ; enough, you and I know one 
 another and you can depend upon my doing the 
 right thing if I am satisfied." A tedious, tiring, 
 unsavoury commission, but every man to his metier, 
 and this one got his living in this way. Still for 
 once the detective was fairly puzzled ; what did it 
 all mean, what was the object of it all ? He knew all 
 the preliminary facts of the case. Why did Waters, 
 whose real name was Chacewater, persist in hiding ? 
 He had done nothing, he had committed no crime, 
 nobody could possibly interfere with him if he 
 chose to spend the remainder of his life in Twy- 
 bury, nor was there any law to prevent his calling 
 himself by any name that struck his fancy. Then 
 why was Mr. Sam Wargrave so anxious to find him 
 and know what he did ? In the exercise of his 
 profession Mr. Wargrave's detective was wont to be 
 as patient as an Indian on the war-path. Still, he 
 could not but think that a duller and more unin- 
 teresting case it had never been his lot to be em- 
 ployed in. 
 
 " How the deuce the young gent stands such a 
 life as he leads here, I'm blessed if I know ; it's 
 killing me that's what it is, although I'm paid for 
 it and used to carrying on this sort of game. Why, 
 
254 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 if I'd cleaned out some nobleman's plate cupboard 
 and was keeping dark just till the thing had blown 
 over a bit, hang me if I shouldn't think it a real 
 relief to be ' pinched,' and be done with it." 
 
 In his intervals of relaxation the agent dis- 
 covered that Twybury, though dull, was a sporting 
 little place ; it was a small agricultural town and did 
 a considerable trade in sheep, beeves, etc., and the 
 surrounding farmers who frequented it had much to 
 say about racing affairs. These spring handicaps, for 
 instance, were a subject of much discussion at the 
 ordinary on Saturdays of the " Blue Boar," the most 
 popular inn in Twybury. Indeed the landlord, pro- 
 fessedly for the accommodation of his guests, though 
 more, perhaps, for his own aggrandizement, made a 
 book upon all the principal events of the turf, and 
 enjoyed so good custom as to have attained quite a 
 name as a provincial book-maker in those parts. 
 The billiard-room and bar-parlour too at the " Blue 
 Boar " were more affected by the choice spirits of 
 Twybury in the evening than elsewhere, and the 
 consequence was that Mr. Wargrave's man, when he 
 considered himself off duty, sometimes beguiled the 
 weary hours by smoking a pipe or playing a game 
 of billiards there. 
 
 Now, close as any one man may watch another, 
 there must of necessity arrive moments when the 
 watcher's eye is off his quarry, and it is during such 
 temporary lapse of vigilance that his opportunity 
 will probably come to him only to escape him. 
 
 Life in Twybury, as aforesaid, was monotonous. 
 
REGINALD TAKES LONG ODDS. 255 
 
 and from careful study Sam Wargrave's agent knew 
 Keginald's habits to a nicety ; he knew pretty nearly 
 at what time he would issue from his lodgings, and 
 could then pretty well foretell his movements for 
 the remainder of the day ; from the time he left his 
 lodgings to the time he returned to them, the 
 detective considered his duty obliged him to keep 
 an eye on the soi-disant Waters. One morning 
 Keginald was late in making his appearance ; hour 
 after hour slipped by and still his door never opened. 
 What did it mean, could he be taken ill, or what 
 had happened ? He had never yet known him go 
 out before eleven o'clock, rarely so soon, and here it 
 was past one ; and though he had been on guard 
 ever since ten, he could take his oath Waters had 
 never left his abode. He waited a little longer and 
 then determined to enquire if he could see Mr. 
 Waters on some pretext ; that was not difficult to 
 find, and in a few minutes he was informed that, 
 contrary to his usual custom, Mr. Waters had 
 gone out early in the morning and had not 
 yet returned. The agent was an impassive man 
 and did not waste his time in the use of bad lan- 
 guage, but he felt pretty much like those who do, 
 for he guessed that whatever it might be that 
 Keginald was now busying himself about, that was the 
 very matter that he had been sent down there to 
 discover. There was only one thing for it, and that 
 was to, at once, seek in his usual haunts the traces 
 of this young man. No ! luck was against him that 
 day ; look where he would, he could see nothing of 
 
253 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 Eeginald, but in one place he did hear of him and 
 that was at the Railway Station ; yes, he had been 
 seen there by one or two of the officials to whom he 
 was well-known by sight, he haunted the book-stall, 
 and though, as the proprietor laughingly observed, 
 he was one of the "read without paying order," 
 he did invest in a penn'orth of newspaper some- 
 times. Had he left Twybury ? thought the agent 
 anxiously, but nobody seemed to think that he 
 had done that, he had been to the station that 
 morning, but nobody seemed to have seen him get 
 into the train. The detective felt there was nothing 
 for it but to go on wandering round Twybury till 
 he once more picked up his man, when at the last 
 moment a porter turned up, to whom in the earlier 
 part of his Twybury time Eeginald had been liberal, 
 and he joining the discussion, said decisively that he 
 knew Mr. Waters well, and he had seen him that 
 morning, and that he had left the station with a 
 young woman. " A young woman ! " ejaculated the 
 agent to himself, " I see it all now, Miss Darell is 
 the only young woman he's spoken to since he's 
 been here ; that's the meaning of it, she's come 
 over from Chiilingham ; and now it's high time I 
 found them and see what they're up to, they may 
 mean being off together again now he's got hold of 
 money." 
 
 But no, search diligently though he might, 
 anxiously as he might enquire for a gentleman 
 and lady for whom he had got a note, which was to 
 be delivered immediately, he failed utterly to come 
 
REGINALD TAKES LOXG ODDS. 257 
 
 across the pair till late in the afternoon, when he 
 caught sight of them walking leisurely towards the 
 station. Needless to say he followed, but was only 
 rewarded by seeing that Kate Darell was the young 
 woman, and that Eeginald embraced her tenderly 
 before putting her into the train for Chillingham. 
 Although disconcerted at having no knowledge of 
 how the pair had passed the day, yet the detective 
 did not suppose that it mattered much ; and though 
 he supposed there was nothing more to be done, 
 resolved not to lose sight of Eeginald again until he 
 had seen him safely housed for the night. That 
 being done without further incident, the agent 
 thought he would drop into the " Blue Boar," and 
 smoke a pipe. 
 
 He was listening dreamily to the gossip going on 
 in the bar-parlour when a voice smote upon his ear 
 that brought him instantly to his feet. Surely, he 
 thought, those were Waters' tones inquiring at the 
 bar if Mr. Brockles was in. 
 
 " Yes, sir, he is," replied the officiating ministress, 
 " he's up in the billiard-room, where, if it's any- 
 thing about a horse, I was to send word to him." 
 
 " Then you'd better do so," rejoined Eeginald ; 
 " ask him to step down for two or three minutes." 
 
 " Are you the gentleman who's got a fancy ? " 
 enquired the landlord smiling, as he entered the 
 bar in compliance with the summons that had been 
 sent to him. " Pray step inside, and I shall only be 
 too happy to accommodate you if I have not already 
 laid." As he spoke Eeginald entered the bar, and 
 
 17 
 
258 A RACING RUBBEE. 
 
 the detective who, under the pretence of requiring 
 a cigar, had drawn stealthily to the door of the 
 parlour behind it, busied himself in selecting one 
 from the box that the lady in charge proffered him. 
 
 " ( King of the Huns ' for the City and Sub- 
 urban," was the prompt reply, and the detective's 
 ears were full-cock at the announcement. 
 
 " Well, he's come up a bit to-day, so I see by the 
 papers. I can't afford to lay you above twenty-fives ; 
 what shall I put it down to, five or ten pounds ? " 
 
 " I want it to fifty," replied Keginald ; " put me 
 down twelve hundred and fifty to fifty." 
 
 "Excuse me," said Mr. Brockles, "but that's 
 rather a stiff bet in my way of business, and you 
 must remember I haven't the pleasure of knowing 
 you, sir." 
 
 " There's the money," replied young Chacewater, 
 and as he spoke he took from his vest pocket a 
 small note-book and extracting a fifty-pound note 
 proffered it to the landlord. 
 
 " No, no," replied Mr. Brockles, " that won't do, 
 the law don't allow us to take money in that way ; 
 but no matter, I think I can trust you ; twelve 
 hundred and fifty to fifty against « King of the Huns ' 
 for the City and Suburban, it is ! You can put it 
 down, sir." 
 
 " All right, Mr. Brockles," rejoined Eeginald, and 
 with a nod of good-night he at once took his 
 departure. 
 
 " It's that young woman who's doing the raven 
 business and feeding him," murmured the detective, 
 
REGINALD TAKES LONG ODDS. 1259 
 
 as he returned to his seat. " Here he is one day 
 so hard up he scarcely knows how to pay for a 
 dinner, Miss Dareli appears, and at once he is in 
 high feather. Now she appears again, and d — n 
 me, here he is flashing about and betting in fifties. 
 But then how does she get it ? that's what beats me. 
 However, it's for Mr. Wargrave to put things to- 
 gether. He didn't think proper to tell me what his 
 object was, my business is to find out all I can 
 about this young Chacewater, alias Waters, and 
 report accordingly." 
 
 Mr. Wargrave found much food for reflection 
 when he received his agent's account of Eeginald's 
 latest doings. That he should be in funds at all was 
 a matter of disappointment to him, as he conceived 
 that his own schemes would be easier to carry out 
 if Eeginald could be brought to feel the pressure of 
 poverty. That he should be the possessor of fifty 
 pounds, though an unpleasant surprise, did not 
 trouble him much, and a derisive smile spread over 
 his face at the thought of a young man seeking to 
 repair his shattered fortunes by betting on horse 
 races ; but what had induced him to back " King of 
 the Huns," for the City and Suburban was a thing 
 to be worked out, and it took an astute man like 
 Mr. Wargrave but a very short time to put the 
 puzzle together. According to his informant, 
 Eeginald backed this horse at night after spending 
 the day with Kate Dareli ; he remembered that the 
 name of the lad who had ridden the " King " in the 
 Leger was Darley, what more likely than that he 
 
 17* 
 
260 A RACING KUI3BER. 
 
 was in some way connected, and a very few 
 enquiries in the village told him that they were 
 brother and sister. Jim, he knew, was a boy in 
 Praze's stable, and it was therefore pretty conclusive 
 that that was the source from which Reginald 
 derived his information. Now, in his own opinion, 
 the " King " was a bad horse, and however lightly 
 weighted he doubted his ability to win the race in 
 question. But Sam Wargrave was by no means 
 pig-headed, if Praze thought differently he was not 
 the man to deny that the trainer might know more 
 about it than he did. 
 
 " They didn't know everything down in Judee," 
 as the famous John P. Robinson is reported to 
 have said, and Sam Wargrave was not at all above 
 listening to a capable opinion from another, though 
 it might be diametrically opposed to his own. It 
 was quite certain that Reginald had backed " King 
 of the Huns " ; it was equally clear that in the event 
 of the " King's " success he would win a compara- 
 tively large sum of money and that that would not 
 at all suit the ends Mr. Wargrave and his daughter 
 had in view. Ergo, " King of the Huns " must be 
 prevented from winning the City and Suburban, 
 but how ? And though he sat and pondered over it 
 for some time, Mr. Wargrave could think of no way 
 in which he could influence the destinies of Mr. 
 Bramber's colt upon that occasion. At last he 
 resolved to disembosom himself of his perplexity to 
 his daughter ; true, he didn't in the least see how 
 she could help him, but she was a clever girl, and 
 
KEGINALD TAKES LONG ODDS. 261 
 
 after all the matter was as much, aye, even more, 
 her business than his own. 
 
 Clara listened attentively to her father's account 
 of all Eeginald's doings at Twybury. She was not 
 a young woman to be daunted by obstacles, and if 
 she knit her brows, it was more from angry impa- 
 tience at the idea of her destined husband being 
 still infatuated about that wretched Darley girl, 
 than at the apprehension of the ultimate defeat of 
 her schemes. She thought over it for some minutes, 
 and taking a paper, which lay upon the table, 
 glanced carelessly over a list of the probable starters 
 for the same race, and an attempt on the part of the 
 writer of the article to pick the winner. Suddenly 
 a triumphant smile flashed across her face. " Don't 
 be afraid^ papa," she cried, triumphantly. " I think 
 I see my way. I'll bet you a dozen pair of gloves 
 that * King of the Huns ' is not in the first three for 
 the City and Suburban." 
 
 " But, Clara, my dear, I don't understand " 
 
 "No reason you should," she replied gaily. " Xo 
 need for you to trouble yourself more about it ; but 
 you will see it will be as I say." 
 
202 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 " KATE GOES DOWN TO BOTTLESBY." 
 
 If there was a gentleman in his calling who felt 
 tolerably well satisfied with himself, it was Mr. 
 Praze on these bright, breezy April mornings. Day 
 by day he grew more pleased with the " King " as 
 he strode along in the sharp gallops that were now 
 pretty constantly his portion. The day of the race 
 drew near, and no horse could be in better health or 
 in higher heart ; he showed, moveover, not a trace of 
 that temper which had so disconcerted the stable 
 the previous summer ; on the contrary, Jim assured 
 his master that the horse went as kindly with him 
 as possible, and that, in sporting parlance, he could 
 " put him anywhere." The colt, too, was surely but 
 slowly stealing up in the market, which told the 
 trainer that the somewhat extensive commission 
 which he had given to his emissaries to back him 
 was being quietly and dexterously executed. Jim 
 Darley, also, was in the highest possible spirits, and 
 as confident of sailing in an easy winner for the 
 great Epsom Handicap as if the race was already 
 over. Suddenly the " King " began to decline 
 rather ominously in the betting, in consequence of a 
 rumour, so said the papers, that there was great 
 doubt about his starting. Mr. Praze smiled grimly 
 
KATE GOES DOWN TO BOTILESBY. 263 
 
 to himself as he read this, for as far as anything 
 could be deemed certain on the Turf, it was that 
 " King of the Huns " would do his best to win the 
 City and Suburban. With Jim Parley it was 
 different ; he naturally had not the calmness which 
 comes to the veteran who has braved the ups and 
 downs of many a campaign. To use his own expres- 
 sion, "he knew it was all right," and yet these 
 adverse rumours made Jim thoroughly uncomfort- 
 able. He could not but remember how the clouds 
 had gathered around the " King's " name previous to 
 that disastrous Derby, and feared that once again a 
 conspiracy existed to work him evil. 
 
 If Jim Darley was disturbed at the way the horse 
 travels in the betting market, it is easy to under- 
 stand how anxious his sister is getting at all these 
 adverse reports. Note after note comes to Jim 
 with as urgent enquiries concerning the " King's " 
 health and well-being as if he was in good truth 
 one of the leading rulers of Europe instead of being 
 merely a race-horse who has rather disgraced him- 
 self. The girl cannot but remember that it was she 
 who had counselled Keginald to attempt to cut the 
 Gordian knot of his difficulties in this wise ; that it 
 was she who had advised the laying out of that 
 second fifty-pound note, which he had received from 
 his publishers not forty-eight hours before, and now 
 it looked as if she might as well have persuaded him 
 to throw his hard- won earnings into the fire ; that 
 he is not destined even to have a run for his money, 
 and that if these tales in the papers are true, " King 
 
264 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 of the Huns " would be quietly in his stable when 
 the crowd were cheering for the winner of the City 
 and Suburban. Although Jim's replies were so far 
 reassuring, insomuch as he declared that there was 
 nothing the matter, yet it was easy to perceive from 
 the tone of his letters that the lad himself was 
 extremely uneasy. In a different way, bear in 
 mind, this race was quite as momentous a matter to 
 him as it was to Eeginald Chacewater; it might 
 almost be said more so ; it was to be his first opening, 
 a prelude to what to him meant honours, fame and 
 wealth, and that some indefinable cause should 
 threaten to deprive him of this naturally perturbed 
 Jim Darley greatly. Like his sister, he watched the 
 papers closely, and it looked as if their fears were 
 distantly realised. " King of the Huns " went from 
 bad to worse in the betting, retrograding in that 
 ominous manner that betokens that some of the 
 fielders are in possession of certain information to his 
 detriment, and the floating rumours at length even 
 disturbed the serenity of the imperturbable Mr. Praze. 
 A prompt man was Mr. Praze when he considered his 
 intervention called for. The day he came to that 
 conclusion saw him in Town and in close conference 
 with his own commissioner. That worthy at once 
 told him that he had been as much dumbfounded 
 at the fierce fire opened on the horse as he, the 
 trainer, could be ; that he had made diligent 
 enquiry as to what grounds the " King's " opponents 
 were going on, and that, as far as he could ascertain, 
 it all originated in a statement which Mr. Bramber 
 
KATE GOES DOWN TO BOTTLESBY. 255 
 
 had made during a brief visit to London about ten 
 days ago, to wit, that " King of the Huns " would 
 not run. 
 
 "If that's all," rejoined the trainer laughing, "I 
 am sorry for them, because I have entire control of 
 the horse ; he's fit as fiddles, and run he will, as sure 
 as I stand here." 
 
 " Well you ought to know," replied the com- 
 missioner, " but as he's entered in Bramber's name 
 no wonder some of 'em thought there was something 
 in it." 
 
 Mr. Praze made no reply, just nodded and took 
 his leave, but as he walked away he bethought him 
 that Tom Bramber had shown himself just a little 
 bit queer in his ways the last few months, he had 
 never turned up at Doncaster for instance, he was 
 going to give up the farm he had lived on all his life, 
 he was desirous of selling his share of the horse, just 
 at a time when the most ordinary judge of turf 
 matters would have known that it was a far wiser 
 policy to stick to his bargain, that the colt's failures 
 in the preceding year while depreciating his value 
 on the one hand, by reducing his weight in handi- 
 caps, gave him a great chance of redeeming his 
 character on the other. It surely never would enter 
 Tom's head to do anything without consulting him, 
 more especially anything so foolish as to strike 
 " King of the Huns " out of a big race, which he would 
 in all probability win, but at the same time the 
 trainer was perfectly aware that he had the power to 
 do so, as nominator of the horse ; it was also in his 
 
266 A KACING- RUBBER. 
 
 hands whether he should run or decline the engage- 
 ment. It was almost preposterous to think that 
 Tom Bramber could even dream of such a thing, 
 but Mr. Praze stood to win a very good stake over 
 the "King," and looked upon this handicap to 
 compensate him for all previous disappointments. 
 Mr. Praze was not the man to leave more than he 
 could possibly help to chance under such circum- 
 stances, and rapidly came to the conclusion that, to 
 obviate all mistakes or foolishness, it would be 
 better that he should run down to Bottlesby and see 
 Tom Bramber himself. " Sam Wargrave and his 
 friends can't have anything to do with it this time 
 anyhow," muttered Mr. Praze as he drove straight to 
 the station, and then he bethought him that Sam 
 Wargrave lived somewhere near Bottlesby, and 
 in another moment a singular idea flashed across his 
 mind. " It would be a queer start," he muttered, 
 "but, hang me if I don't think old Sam's in it 
 again, only this time he's got at the man instead of 
 the horse." 
 
 Having taken his ticket, the trainer leisurely 
 paced the platform till such time as the Bottlesby 
 train should start. He soon became aware of a 
 slight, pretty, lady-like girl who was like himself 
 awaiting her train. I have heard it remarked that 
 a man who is a good judge of a horse has also a keen 
 eye for a pretty woman ; be that as it may, Mr. 
 Praze was decidedly struck by the young lady in 
 question, and not only looked upon her with 
 admiring eyes, but took rather more notice of hei 
 
KATE GOES DOWN TO BOTTLESBY. 267 
 
 than is customary. The fact was, that the trainer 
 not only thought it a very pretty face, but was 
 haunted with the idea that he had seen it before, 
 and so he had, although it was three years ago, and 
 he had but a glimpse of it then ; still it was not 
 that recollection that was now puzzling Praze, but 
 Kate Darley bore, if not a striking yet a strong 
 resemblance to her brother, and that it was which 
 troubled the trainer's mind. 
 
 It was not long before Kate became aware of her 
 admirer, and no sooner had she succeeded in steal- 
 ing a good look at him than she at once knew him . 
 she had never set eyes upon him but on that one 
 occasion when Jim had nearly jumped the pony on 
 the top of him in the Hampshire lane ; but the 
 three years had made no change in the trainer, 
 while it had changed the girl from an untidy romp 
 of seventeen to a self-possessed, lady-like young 
 woman ; if it hadn't been for her brother being in 
 his employ, it was not likely that even a shadow of 
 her face would have lived in Mr. Praze's memory. 
 As the spring advanced, Mr. Slater, according to his 
 usual custom, had sent his branch establishments 
 on their travels, the Chillingham troupe had started 
 on tour, and Mr. Slater was so impressed with the 
 reports sent him of Miss Darell's success in the 
 Hippodrome there that he had ordered her up to 
 head-quarters, and she was now advertised to make 
 her first appearance in a few days at the Eoyal 
 Hippodrome in Argyle Street. Feverishly anxious 
 at Jim's despondent notes, to say nothing of all the 
 
268 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 newspaper canards concerning " King of the Huns,' 
 Kate has come to the same resolution as Mr. Praze, 
 and resolved to run down to Bottlesby and see Tom 
 Bramber herself. She had hesitated a great deal 
 over taking this step, for she had a vivid recollection 
 of their last stormy interview, and she knew the 
 light-o'-love Tom Bramber held her. Her brows knit 
 and her eyes flashed angrily even yet, as she 
 thought of it, but there was so much at stake, not 
 only for Keginald but for Jim, that she had resolved 
 to humble herself, to put her pride in her pocket, 
 and in the belief Tom Bramber had really loved her, 
 to beg this favour at his hands, to implore him for 
 Jim's sake, for Eeginald's sake, not to stand in the 
 way of the " King's " running at Epsom. The sight 
 of the horse's trainer at the station was a surprise for 
 Kate ; she could hardly suppose that Mr. Praze would 
 recollect her, and yet from the way he noticed her, 
 it really seemed as if he did. She debated much 
 with herself whether she should acknowledge him ; 
 she had not that fear of putting direct questions 
 to him which her brother had, but then it was no 
 use her speaking to him unless she plunged in 
 madias res, and that might work mischief to Jim. 
 She was sorely puzzled what to do, and before she 
 had made up her mind the sharp cry of, " Take your 
 places," compelled her to jump into the train, and 
 the opportunity was lost. 
 
 Bottlesby Station, as is often the case in these 
 country places, was some little distance from 
 Bottlesby itself, and moreover Tom Bramber's farm 
 
KATE GOES DOWN TO BOTTLESEY. 269 
 
 was a couple of miles or so on the other side of 
 the village. Hack carriages were scarce, and in 
 reply to Kate's enquiry as to whether he could get 
 her a conveyance to take her to Mr. Bramber's, the 
 porter speedily came back with the information that 
 the only two flys were taken, that one of them had 
 been engaged by a gentleman who was going to Mr. 
 Bramber's. 
 
 " He's got no luggage, Miss," continued the man, 
 who knew her well, " he could give you a lift." 
 
 Upon the porter preferring the request to Mr. 
 Praze, that gentleman replied he would be only 
 too pleased to give Miss Darley a seat, and the result 
 was that Kate and the trainer drove off together to 
 see Tom Bramber. Praze, by this time, was 
 perfectly aware who his fellow passenger was, but 
 for all that the errand that had brought them both 
 to Bottlesby was not mentioned between them, nor 
 was there any reference to racing matters further than 
 that Kate alluded to her brother being in Mr. Praze's 
 employ, and the trainer in reply remarked that Jim 
 was a good, steady lad, and safe to do well in the 
 profession he had chosen. 
 
 On their arrival at the house, in answer to their 
 enquiries, Bramber's old housekeeper said that her 
 master was at home, at least, he wasn't in the house 
 just that moment, but he was only somewhere about 
 the farm, and if they would just step into the 
 parlour and wait for him, she would send some one 
 to look for him, anyway he wouldn't be long; and 
 with that she ushered them into the room, which it 
 
270 A RACING EUBBER. 
 
 was evident Tom habitually used, excusing herself 
 for doing so by the intimation that there was no fire 
 in the best parlour, and that the days were a bit 
 chill as yet, 
 
 " Now, Miss Darley," said the trainer as they 
 seated themselves, " I don't know what your busi- 
 ness with Bramber may be, but as soon as he makes 
 his appearance, I'll take a turn outside and leave you 
 here to have a talk with him." 
 
 Kate had accidentally taken her seat near the 
 writing-table which stood in one of the windows, 
 and as Mr. Praze spoke her eyes fell upon two 
 letters which were lying upon it. One was addressed 
 in Tom's own hand to Messrs. Weatherby and Son, 
 Old Burlington Street ; the other was addressed to 
 Mr. Thomas Bramber, and the handwriting was 
 apparently that of a woman. Kate had not a 
 brother in a racing stable without having acquired 
 considerable racing knowledge ; she knew very well 
 that Messrs. Weatherby were the officials appointed 
 by the Jockey Club to whom entries for great races 
 were made, and equally to whom the striking out 
 of horses so entered was notified. The quick-witted 
 girl divined what had happened in a moment, and 
 turning to the trainer exclaimed : 
 
 " It strikes me, Mr. Praze, that we're both here 
 upon the same business, and if so, should my appeal 
 be successful, you will be spared further trouble, 
 we are only just in time ; there-," she said, rising 
 and pointing to the table, "lies the order to scratch 
 ■ King of the Huns ' for the City and Suburban, 
 
CLARA'S LETTER. 271 
 
 and there also lies the letter of the woman at whose 
 instigation Mr. Bramber has done so." 
 
 Mr. Praze cast one glance at the writing-table, and 
 then threw a glance of admiration on his companion ; 
 he understood at once what that letter to Old 
 Burlington Street meant, but that Kate should have 
 divined it so quickly certainly was astonishing; 
 whether she was right about a woman being at the 
 bottom of it, there was now no time to speculate. 
 
 " You are quite right, Miss Darley," he replied, 
 « that's exactly what I wish to prevent. I feel sure 
 I cannot do better than leave the matter in your 
 hands, and that after you have seen Bramber, you 
 will tell me that letter has been destroyed," and 
 with that Mr. Praze left the room and betook him- 
 self to the tireless best parlour, feeling quite 
 convinced that his policy at present was to keep out 
 of the way. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 CLARA'S LETTER. 
 
 Clara Wargrave was not only a clever woman, but 
 she possessed many of the ingredients that go to 
 compose a great conspirator, cool-headed, with un- 
 flinching nerve, and showing an undaunted front 
 under difficulties, to say nothing of great fertility 
 of resource, she was no light antagonist to have 
 pitted against one. She was determined to marry 
 Reginald Chacewater, and not the less likely to 
 carry her point because her feelings were so little 
 
272 A RACING- RUBBER. 
 
 involved in the matter. Her father was both 
 fidgetty and uncomfortable ; Clara, like all notable 
 plotters, refused to show her cards; she declined to let 
 him know how she intended to proceed, and merely 
 replied when he pressed her, " Never mind, Papa, 
 you leave it to me, and you'll see that 6 King of the 
 Huns ' will play a very minor part in the City and 
 Suburban." 
 
 Sam Wargrave waxed quite irritable over the 
 subject; what did she want to make such a con- 
 founded mystery of the affair for; was he not as 
 much interested in it as she ? Sam Wargrave indeed 
 was as wild with vexation as a man of his buccaneer- 
 ing instincts is wont to become, when he is conscious 
 of a big robbery going on without his being in it. 
 Strictly speaking, it was a duel between these two 
 girls ; Clara, relying for success upon the vengeful 
 feelings of a disappointed lover ; Kate, on the other 
 hand, trusting that Tom's had been too honest a 
 love not to induce him to refrain from harming those 
 near and dear to her. 
 
 " Only give me vanity, and you may take all the 
 other passions," saith Sheridan. And, taking all in 
 all, it is probably the most powerful factor that 
 sways mankind. Miss Wargrave, at all events, had 
 the most implicit faith in its influence, when she 
 penned the letter that had attracted Kate's atten- 
 tion, and which she recognised as a woman's, 
 though in a hand unknown to her. If her father 
 chafed over the mystery in which it pleased Clara to 
 veil her proceedings, he, at all events, comforted 
 
CLARA'S LETTER. 273 
 
 himself by the reflection that the ominous decline 
 of the horse in the betting went far to show that, 
 whatever her plan might be, it promised to be 
 successful, and but for knowing it was hardly 
 worth his while, Sam Wargrave would have been 
 sorely tempted to field heavily against the horse 
 himself, but there was so little inclination to back 
 the " King " now, that there would be little to gain 
 by doing so. He and his daughter little thought, 
 as they read in their morning paper that " King 
 of the Huns " was friendless, at ths proffered odds 
 of fifty to one, that the battle of the City and 
 Suburban was being fought out at a farm-house 
 within a few miles of them. 
 
 Kate had not long to wait before she heard 
 Bramber's step outside. He stopped at the front- 
 door for a moment to speak to his housekeeper, who 
 was waiting there to receive him. Both visitors 
 were well-known to her ; Mr. Praze had, upon more 
 than one occasion, stayed at the farm ; and as for 
 Kate Darley, she had known her ever since she was 
 a child. The good lady indeed was so wroth with 
 Kate just at present that it is doubtful whether 
 she would have gained such easy admittance to the 
 house had she not been accompanied by the 
 trainer. Mrs. Stephens was of course not ignorant 
 of Bottlesby gossip. She not only looked upon 
 Kate as no better than she should be, but she also 
 knew that her master was said to have been rather 
 sweet upon the girl ; and that anybody who had the 
 chance should think twice about marrying Tom 
 
 18 
 
274 A PACING RUBBER. 
 
 Bramber, amounted to positive impertinence in the 
 housekeeper's eyes. There was nobody good enough 
 for Master Tom, she thought, for miles round ; he 
 had had a narrow escape, he was well out of it ; and 
 now, what did the brazen little baggage want with 
 him ? Mr. Praze's arrival with Kate had outwardly 
 stifled all these reflections. The trainer, she knew, 
 had always been an honoured guest ; and as she 
 knew Jim Parley was apprenticed to Mr. Praze, she 
 came to the hasty conclusion that his sister also 
 might be in some way muddled up in the racing 
 business. That Praze should have come over to see 
 him did not surprise Tom much ; but what on earth 
 Kate Darley could want with him Tom could not 
 conjecture. That, after their last interview, she 
 should even wish to see him again, he should have 
 thought improbable, and why accompanied by the 
 trainer ? Another moment and he had thrown open 
 the door, and found himself face to face with this 
 false love of his. 
 
 He made no attempt to offer her his hand, but 
 with a rather brusque bow, said : 
 
 " I don't know of what use I can be to you, Miss 
 Darley, but I suppose you have something to ask 
 of me, or else I should have scarce seen you here. 
 I can only trust old Stephens has done her duty, 
 and asked what she shall get for you after your 
 journey ? " 
 
 Kate's eyes flashed ominously for a moment, and 
 then regaining her self-control, she replied — " It 
 would scarcely be a question of meat and drink that 
 
CLAEA'S LETTER. 275 
 
 brought me to your house, Mr. Bramber. I have 
 coine, not so much to beg a favour at your hands, as 
 to ask you not to inflict an undeserved disappoint- 
 ment on two who are near and dear to me, to ask 
 you only to do what is right, to act in the honest, 
 straightforward manner that all who know you are 
 justified in expecting at your hands." 
 
 " You are talking riddles to me," he rejoined 
 
 " A mere quibble," she returned hotly. " You 
 know, as well as I do, to what I am alluding." 
 
 61 And suppose I do ; I have only to say I see no 
 necessity for disclosing my intentions." 
 
 i( You have done so already," she cried. " That 
 letter to Messrs. Weatherby tells me what you have 
 done ; and that other tells me that it is at 
 woman's dictation that you have done it." 
 
 " Yes," he said, with an uglier smile than had 
 ever been seen across Tom Bramber's face. " Ste- 
 phens should have known better than to have left you 
 alone with my letters ; it was not likely that one of 
 your sex should resist such temptation." 
 
 It was an ungenerous retort, and he felt that it 
 was so the minute the words had escaped his lips. 
 But this girl was very dear to him ; and though he 
 would hurt no hair of her head, he was determined 
 to wreak what vengeance he might upon her 
 seducer. 
 
 " You closed your letter yourself, look at it, you 
 will find it still unopened ; as for that other, I 
 haven't touched it ; I don't know who wrote it — but 
 I can tell you what she says. What her object may 
 
 18* 
 
276 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 be, I don't know. But she urges you to wreak 
 vengeance on me, because I had no love to give 
 you; to strike at me through my brother, looking 
 anxiously forward to the winning of his first race." 
 
 "It is nothing of the kind," replied Bramber 
 fiercely. " The writer urges me to inflict such 
 punishment as I may on the scoundrel who not 
 only stole my love from me, but brought her to 
 shame besides ; who snatched from me the woman I 
 loved with all my heart and soul, to make her the 
 plaything of his idle moments. I swore Keginald 
 Chacewater should, if it ever were in my power, pay 
 dearly for the wrong he had done you, and I'll keep 
 my word." 
 
 Kate coloured, and for a moment gazed defiantly 
 into his face ; it was set hard, and she saw that he 
 meant what he said. 
 
 " Your informant lies," she said at length in a 
 low tone, " you might have known me better, Tom 
 Bramber, than to believe that of me, however 
 appearances may be against me." 
 
 " Do you dare to tell me," he exclaimed excitedly, 
 " that it is not true, that you are not ? " 
 
 " Eeginald Chacewater never said a word to me 
 that any girl need have been ashamed to listen to," 
 replied Kate proudly. 
 
 " And what is he then to you, that, regardless of 
 your good name, you mix yourself up with him in 
 this manner ? " 
 
 " My husband," replied Kate quietly. 
 
 " Your husband ? " replied Tom incredulously, 
 
CLARA'S LETTER. 277 
 
 " then why did you deny it when 1 went to see 
 you at Chillingham — why did you refuse to admit 
 that he was so to Mr. Marton, why did you allow 
 Bottlesby and all the country to think that you were 
 his mistress ? God knows, Kate, that no man was 
 ever more unwilling to believe that of you than 
 me." 
 
 The look of indignation with which she heard 
 him softened as he finished speaking. 
 
 " I am trusting you with a great secret, and you 
 must promise that it shall go no further until I give 
 you leave. Now listen to me. Eeginald and I met 
 by the merest chance at Chillingham ; it had never 
 entered either of our heads that anyone would 
 suppose we had gone off together ; when you saw 
 me there I was neither married to him nor pledged 
 to him ; I had only just awoke to the fact that I was 
 in love with him, and hoped that he loved me. 
 Your coming caused him to leave Chillingham and 
 go to Twybury, and there I went over twice to see 
 him ; the second time he asked me to marry 
 him, and," she continued, blushing a little, "he 
 was so confident of my answer that he had made 
 every preparation, and we were quietly married that 
 very morning." 
 
 Sam Wargrave's agent had no idea even yet of 
 what a mistake his want of vigilance had been that 
 eventful morning at Twybury. It would have 
 saved his employer and Miss Wargrave much trouble 
 and anxiety. 
 
 " That you couldn't fancy me, Kate, will be a 
 
278 A BACING KUBBER. 
 
 sore disappointment to me for many a long day," 
 rejoined Tom Bramber slowly, " but it lightens it a 
 deal to know that you are the young Squire's 
 lawful wife. When Mr. Keginald offered you an 
 honest love and you had to decide between us, well, 
 it could only end one way, and, Kate," he continued, 
 extending his hand, " as far as a beaten man can do, 
 I congratulate you." 
 
 A warm hand-shake was exchanged between 
 them, and after a little consideration Tom said, " I 
 don't think this will be wanted now," and as he 
 spoke he took up the letter addressed to Messrs. 
 Weatherby and tossed it into the fire. " But there 
 is something about this that I don't understand," 
 and as he spoke he took up the letter addressed to 
 himself in a woman's hand. " The writer urges me 
 to take vengeance on Reginald Chacewater, and points 
 out that striking * King of the Huns ' out of the City 
 and Suburban will go far to ruin him. I don't know 
 who she is or how she knows this, but is it true ? 
 Has the young Squire backed my horse heavily, and 
 if so how came he to do it ? " 
 
 i( He did it because I told him," replied Kate, " he 
 did it for fifty pounds, which means a lot of money 
 to him just now." 
 
 " And you got your inspiration from Jim, I sup- 
 pose ? That I understand, but who is this woman 
 and what is she driving at ? " 
 
 "Let me see the letter," replied Kate quietly, 
 " No," she continued after she had read it, " it is 
 written by a woman, but I have no idea who ; its 
 
CLARA'S LETTER. 279 
 
 object, I should say, is to injure Keginald, I doubt 
 otherwise if she much cares whether your horse 
 runs or not. May I keep it ? I shall perhaps meet 
 the handwriting again some day." 
 
 "If you like; and now I must really go and 
 shake hands with Praze, and see what he wants, 
 though I daresay you know." 
 
 " That letter to Weatherby burnt, and something 
 to eat," replied Kate laughing, "but don't forget I'm 
 Miss Darley yet for a little while." 
 
 Tom found the trainer smoking a cigar outside, 
 and one glance at his face informed Mr. Praze that 
 his mission was accomplished. But during all 
 this time the latter had been turning things over in 
 his mind and had come to the conclusion that Sam 
 Wargrave had a finger in the pie after all. He had 
 no grounds for this suspicion, but, shrewd man as 
 he was, he had, so to speak, got Wargrave on the 
 brain — all he knew for certain was that Tom had 
 written a letter to Weatherby. But Sam Wargrave 
 or his friends had conspired against the horse for 
 the Derby last year, and, though he could not 
 understand why, he believed he had done so again, 
 and upon this point he could not help questioning 
 Tom. Bramber willingly told him all he knew 
 about it, passing over the false charge against Kate, 
 as was only natural ; he owned that the letter to 
 Weatherby had been what the trainer suspected, 
 said that he had written it in a moment of extreme 
 exasperation caused by a hideous calumny against 
 people he both loved and respected ; who their 
 
280 A KACINGr RUBBER. 
 
 calumniator was he honestly didn't know, but that 
 it was all a lie he was now thoroughly convinced. 
 
 Mr. Praze was silent for a little after Tom 
 finished, and then said, " Has Wargrave any spite 
 against you? Have you ever done anything to 
 offend him ? " 
 
 "No," replied Tom; "how could I? I'm no 
 tenant of his, you know ; we exchange a few words 
 when we meet ; that is all." 
 
 " Well, you see," continued the trainer, " Sam 
 Wargrave, to say the least of it, had a pretty shrewd 
 idea that ' King of the Huns ' wouldn't win at 
 Epsom last Spring, and I thought he might be 
 interfering again." 
 
 " Interfering ! " cried Tom. " Why you told me 
 yourself it was the horse's temper lost him the 
 Derby. Wargrave, I know, didn't fancy him for the 
 race ; neither did many other people. What do you 
 mean ? " 
 
 "I've no more to say than this," rejoined Mr. 
 Praze. " Have you shown Miss Darley that letter ? 
 she's a clever girl that, and more likely to read the 
 riddle than either you or I. Whoever wrote you 
 the letter had reason for it." 
 
 Tom nodded assent, and Mr. Praze, being in a 
 hurry to get back to Town, declined to partake of 
 anything further than a glass of sherry, and Kate 
 took advantage of his fly to return under the 
 trainer's escort. 
 
GAME AND RUBBER. 281 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 "GAME AND 
 
 The effects of that scene in Tom Bramber's parlour 
 showed themselves rapidly in two or three different 
 directions ; Jim Darley, for one, was made jubilant 
 by a few reassuring lines from his sister, and also by 
 the way his horse strode along with him morning 
 after morning; in the betting market, too, there 
 was a marked difference, in the language of 
 Tattersall's the " * King ' had come again," and 
 those very liberal odds of a few days ago were no 
 longer proffered. On the contrary, it seemed to 
 have dawned at last upon the public that though 
 the " King " might not be so good a horse as he 
 had been at one time considered, still that in the 
 forthcoming race he had been very leniently 
 treated, and must, at all events, have a fair out- 
 side chance. Sam Wargrave viewed with apprehen- 
 sion the shortening price quoted about Mr. Bramber's 
 " King of the Huns," and nervously questioned his 
 daughter as to whether she was quite certain the 
 means she had taken to prevent the horse's winning 
 were sure and efficacious. Miss Wargrave had faith 
 in her own cleverness ; she had no belief in Kate's 
 marriage, and she deemed herself an excellent judge 
 of human nature and of the motives that swayed it. 
 
282 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 That a man like Bramber should hesitate to revenge 
 himself upon one who had bereft him of the woman 
 he loved never entered her calculations, and that 
 she had not been so very much out in her reckoning 
 we have already seen. But on one point she had 
 been mistaken, and that was in being utterly in- 
 credulous that Kate could be a wife. She was not 
 so very far out in the first instance, for Kate was not 
 married when Clara devised her scheme; but then 
 neither was she what Miss Wargrave deemed her. 
 It is true it might be more satisfactory to learn that 
 the horse's doom was already sealed ; but then Clara 
 comforted herself with the reflection that a man in 
 Bramber's position would gloat over such vengeance 
 as he could take, and prolong it till the last moment 
 to make it sweeter. On another point her father 
 had unwittingly led her astray ; although his agent 
 had correctly reported to Sam Wargrave the exact 
 amount of Eeginald's bet, yet Sam thought it 
 highly improbable that the presumptive heir to 
 Chacewater Grange had confined himself to such 
 betting in sugar plums as this was. Clara, there- 
 fore, looked upon the result of this race as a much 
 more serious thing to Reginald than it really was. 
 
 But the day has arrived, and, to Mr. Wargrave's 
 disgust, when he opens his daily paper he reads that 
 hundreds to six are taken freely about " King of the 
 Huns." He is so excited on the subject that he 
 seizes a Bradshaw, and, thanks to his habits of early 
 rising, discovers that he has time to catch a train 
 which will land him in London, and enable him to 
 
GAME AND RUBBER. 283 
 
 proceed thence to Epsom, and see the City and 
 Suburban run for. He announces his intention to 
 his daughter, and further points out to her in the 
 racing intelligence that the horse is spoken of as 
 having arrived at Epsom. It is not a question oi 
 money with Mr. War grave ; strong as is his belief 
 in that, he recognises that this is something more ; 
 that his future peace and comfort depend materially 
 upon the fair Clara being settled in life. Clara 
 herself is still serenely confident in the success of 
 her scheme, and adheres blindly to her opinion 
 as to why Bramber still stays his hand. She 
 obstinately declines to tell her father why she is 
 so confident, and, not sharing in her belief, Mr. 
 Wargrave starts on his journey. On arriving at 
 Epsom, Sam pushes his way at once into the betting 
 ring. There is no particular change in the situation ; 
 although by no means first favourite, " King of the 
 Huns" is still firm at the odds quoted in the 
 morning paper ; there seems to be no doubt in any- 
 body's mind that the horse is going to start, and 
 Mr. Wargrave is still more mystified than ever as 
 to his daughter's proceedings. He remembers now 
 that, though he had always supposed it was in con- 
 sequence of some occult influence of hers that Tom 
 Bramber had been led to contemplate scratching 
 the horse as was rumoured in the papers, yet Clara 
 had never said that the " King " would not start, 
 but only that he would not finish in the first three. 
 About his starting there could be now no question, 
 for his number was up on the telegraph board, and 
 
284 A RACING- RUBBER. 
 
 Jim Darley announced as his rider. Had Clara 
 been with him and seen this, she would have 
 clapped her hands, and pronounced it the refine- 
 ment of revenge, and worth waiting for. To deal 
 such a blow at Kate's lover at the hands of her own 
 brother, Clara would have looked upon as a concep- 
 tion which did Bramber infinite credit. But her 
 father understood no such subtleties. Mr. War- 
 grave was a practical man, and it did not take him 
 long to read the cards aright when they were once 
 down on the table. He remembered at once who 
 Jim Darley was ; it had not occurred to him before 
 that it was no doubt through this boy's sister that 
 Eeginald derived the information which had caused 
 him to back "King of the Huns"; and it was 
 hardly to be supposed that Jim Darley had gone out 
 of his way to mislead Kate about the race. He 
 recollected the boy had ridden the horse in the 
 Leger, and, beaten though he was, Sam Wargrave 
 attributed it to no fault of horsemanship. si No," 
 he muttered ; " he's meant this time, and it's too 
 late to interfere now ; if he's only fit, he'll win 
 to-day. I'll just walk round to the Paddock, and 
 have a look at him." 
 
 The process of weighing-out had been completed, 
 sheets were stripped, saddles adjusted, and riders 
 thrown on to the backs of their respective mounts, 
 when Wargrave got to the Paddock. His quick 
 eye speedily caught sight of the colours he wanted, 
 and Wargrave walked over to take stock of " King 
 of the Huns." Like many a racing man, although 
 
GAME AND RUBBER. 285 
 
 he knew nothing of hunting, he was a judge of 
 a horse, and knew when he had undergone a 
 thorough preparation. Two or three minutes suf- 
 ficed to show that " King of the Huns " had done 
 all that was necessary in that line, and that, U 
 beaten to-day, it would be from no fault of his 
 trainer. Jim Darley, having settled himself in the 
 saddle, was walking his horse slowly away to join 
 his brother jockeys as they filed out of the Pad- 
 dock ; for a moment he was alone. Sam Wargrave 
 threw a quick glance around to where he had 
 seen Praze and Bramber in earnest conversation 
 two or three minutes before ; they were still there, 
 near the gate of the enclosure. Quick as thought, 
 he stepped forward, as if to have one more look 
 at the " King " before he went out, on to the 
 course. 
 
 " That's a beautiful colt of yours, my lad," he 
 said, addressing Jim. " Odds against ; why it's a 
 thousand to ten on him. I'll lay it," he con- 
 tinued with a meaning glance at young Darley. 
 
 For a moment Jim seemed about to speak, his 
 eyes sparkled, with greed as Wargrave deemed, 
 at the offer; but he apparently thought better of 
 it, and, confining his reply to a glance of intelli- 
 gence and a slight nod, continued his way. As 
 he neared the gate, Praze stepped forward, and, in 
 a low voice, asked him what that fellow said to 
 him. 
 
 " I will tell you after the race, sir," replied 
 Jim quietly. 
 
28G A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 The trainer looked keenly at him for a moment, 
 and then said, " Eemember what I told you ; the 
 old orders ; get comfortably round Tattenham 
 Corner and then " cut their throats." 
 
 As for War grave, he walked back to the stand, 
 with the proud consciousness of having done his 
 duty to himself and his family. That any boy 
 brought up in a racing stable could fail to un- 
 derstand his villainous offer, Sam never doubted, 
 and, at all events in the present instance, he was 
 right. It was no time to say much, but he thought 
 more highly of Jim than ever for his tacit accept- 
 ance of his infamous bet. A more deliberate bribe 
 to a jockey to prevent his horse winning it would 
 have been impossible to offer, and Wargrave felt a 
 little uncomfortable as this occurred to him. It was 
 a good many years since he took part in a fraud of 
 this kind, and he winced a little as he thought of 
 it. If the boy should tell, what would men say of 
 it ? as a respectable country gentleman he could not 
 afford to have stories of this sort flying about to his 
 detriment. However, he consoled himself with the 
 thought that if Jim Darley won his wager, he would 
 probably hold his tongue for his own sake, and if 
 on the contrary " King of the Huns " was returned 
 successful the boy could not possibly know who he 
 was, and if he kept away from race-courses for some 
 few months the whole thing would be forgotten. 
 
 It's a queer assertion to make perhaps, but it is 
 at all events not more foolish than on speculating 
 how many cycles longer this world of ours is going 
 
GAME AND RUBBER. 287 
 
 to exist, but I never see a big race won without 
 thinking how many far-away dramas may be con- 
 cerned in the result. It is, of course, the same in 
 all matters by which money may be possibly lost or 
 won, and though one often hears the stern dictum 
 that nobody ever made money by horse racing, yet 
 where there are losers there must be winners ; and 
 a successful Derby may mean a season of temporary 
 affluence. To have won the Club Sweep would 
 hardly seem to justify matrimony and increased 
 expenditure, and yet to Keginald Chacewater and 
 his pretty wife, seated on the box of a brougham 
 opposite the Grand Stand, the race they have come 
 to witness represents a kind of equivalent to this. A 
 still further remittance from his publishers has put 
 Eeginald in funds, and he has come up to London 
 and brought his wife down to Epsom to see, as 
 he says, their fate decided. If " King of the 
 Huns " should prove victorious, then, as Reginald 
 expresses it, " they will go to the Grange, he with 
 gold galore in his pockets, laurels round his brow 
 and such penitence as he can muster in his heart for 
 his past behaviour. (" But it gave you to me, Kate, 
 all the same," he interpolates). "If that noble 
 animal fails us, then we must go all the same, 
 though penniless, and trust to fame to cover our 
 impecuniosity. For, you know, Kate, my wife can't 
 go on riding in a circus ; there'll be a row, I 
 suppose, at first, but they always liked you at the 
 Grange, and they'll come round in a little." And 
 though liking, and not in the least ashamed of her 
 
288 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 profession, Kate, who had been brought up in the 
 fitting reverence of the Grange family, knew that it 
 was not in accordance with things socially, that 
 Mrs. Eeginald Chacewater should be figuring as a 
 star artiste at the Eoyal Hippodrome. 
 
 Their modest luncheon was over, and standing on 
 the box-seat of the brougham steadying herself 
 with one hand placed upon her husband's shoulder, 
 Kate is anxiously waiting the clang of the bell 
 that shall proclaim the competitors for the City 
 and Suburban are away. Will Jim win ? His last 
 letter was very confident ; it is only his second race, 
 and there are so many crack horsemen against him ; 
 it means so much to him, and it will make it so 
 much easier for her. She dreads this going home to 
 the Grange, she knows that the old Squire will look 
 upon his son's marriage as a terrible mesalliance ; 
 it is not much, but surely it would soften things a 
 little if Eeginald could go home with full pockets, 
 it would at all events be better. She is terribly 
 afraid that this marriage may cause a fatal rupture 
 between Eeginald and his parents, and though she 
 knows she should still be guilty of marrying him, if 
 it were yet to do, it would cause much bitterness 
 to her if she had come between him and his father 
 and mother. 
 
 " Another false start," she gasped wearily. 
 
 "Not a bit of it," cried Eeginald,, "the flag's 
 down in earnest this time, and Jim's well away on 
 the far side," and as he spoke the bell pealed out 
 loudly, though, unlike the "Bells of Shandon," 
 
GAME AND KUBBER. 289 
 
 by no means musically. If not leading, Jim was 
 well in the front rank, and the " King," coming 
 down the hill in grand style, showed prominently 
 in the race, as they neared the Corner, making 
 Kate's heart beat high with exultation, and bringing 
 a curse at his rider's stupidity to Mr. Wargrave's 
 lips. At the turn, Jim steadied his horse, and going 
 wide round it, lost two or three lengths, but once 
 in the straight and young Darley lost no time in 
 taking the " King " up to his horses, and in another 
 few strides came along with the lead. From this 
 out, it was the Biennial over again. Once in front 
 the black and scarlet hoops stalled off every chal- 
 lenge, were never caught, and finally won with the 
 greatest ease by three lengths. 
 
 " Oh, Eeginald, isn't it glorious, it's quite delight- 
 ful, and wasn't it worth coming all the way 
 to see ? " 
 
 " Yes, it is rather a coup for all of us," rejoined 
 her husband, as he helped her off the box seat, 
 " we've come off all round to-day ; but sit down 
 now, while I get hold of our fellow and the horse, 
 and that done, we may as well go home before the 
 rush comes ; the play's over as far as we're con- 
 cerned." 
 
 Jim Darley had thoroughly understood Mr. War- 
 grave's infamous proposition, and his first impulse 
 had been to reply in that strongly vituperative 
 language which never failed a stable-boy in time of 
 need ; but he had learnt a good deal since he had 
 been in Mr Praze's stable, and, mastering his 
 
 19 
 
290 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 temper, he decided it would be better to deceive 
 him, his own expression would have been "sell 
 him." Jim really was angry, but putting aside all 
 moral feeling on the subject, and he was a 
 thoroughly honest lad, he was indignant to think 
 that anyone should think him such a fool as to 
 throw away the first opening that had come to him 
 in his profession, and it was aditional sugar in the 
 cup to Jim as he " weighed-in " and heard the " All 
 right " pronounced, to think how he had sold the 
 stranger. When he got back to the Paddock, and 
 the trainer had thrown a critical eye over " King of 
 the Huns " to satisfy himself that the horse was 
 none the worse for his race, he said : 
 
 " Well, my lad, he ran very kind with you, and 
 you'd no trouble to win this time; you'll do, 
 never fear ; you've got a head on your shoulders, and 
 don't forget what you're told." 
 
 Jim's face flushed with gratification, for the 
 trainer was chary of commendation, and from him 
 this was high praise. 
 
 " I hope you'll give me another chance, sir, before 
 long," replied the lad. 
 
 " I shall bear you in mind ; but now, tell me, 
 
 what was it Mr. " and here Mr. Praze stopped 
 
 abruptly, " I mean the gentleman who spoke to you 
 just before you left the Paddock, said ? " 
 
 Tom Bramber stared enquiringly, for he had not 
 noticed the little incident to which Mr. Praze 
 referred. 
 
 Jim grinned, as he replied, " He laid me a 
 
FORGIVEN. 291 
 
 thousand to ten that the ' King ' won. Do you know 
 his name, sir ? because I think I'll just look round 
 and enquire for him. I should like to pay him that 
 ten pound." 
 
 " Confounded scoundrel ! " cried Tom, " I only 
 wish I knew who he was ! " 
 
 Mr. Praze was not much given to merriment, he 
 was indeed rather of a sardonic disposition, but he 
 fairly chuckled in response to Jim's grin. " No, my 
 boy," he said at last, " I can't tell you his name, 
 but I don't think he'll ask you for that tenner even 
 if you should happen to see him." 
 
 The trainer kept his discovery to himself, but 
 as he walked away, he murmured to himself : 
 
 " Done again, Sam Wargrave, that's game, the 
 rubber and the long odds." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 FORGIVEN. 
 
 The first thing Reginald Chacewater did, consequent 
 on the victory of " King of the Huns," was to write 
 to his father, explain the mystery of his disappear- 
 ance, announce his marriage with Kate Darley, and 
 ask for forgiveness and leave to bring his wife to the 
 Grange. That he was the author of that brilliant 
 masterpiece "A Parthian Flight," he prudently kept 
 in reserve ; it was an extenuating circumstance to 
 be made use of, should the home authorities threaten 
 to be obdurate. Reginald had not much fear 01 
 their being reconciled to his marriage in the long 
 
 19* 
 
292 A KACING KUBBEK. 
 
 run; but he was conscious that the Squire had just 
 grounds for resentment, and could hardly be 
 expected, in the first instance, to approve of his 
 choice. He was far more sanguine of " things 
 being all right " than Kate ; the girl knew Mrs. 
 Chacewater had been very fond of her, and had 
 treated her with great kindness ; she was conscious 
 of not having behaved loyally to her benefactors, 
 and suffered pangs of remorse upon that account. 
 She had not ventured to tell Eeginald of what 
 scandal there had been about their relations at 
 Bottlesby, and had little doubt that this not only 
 had reached the ears of Mrs. Chacewater, but been 
 accepted as a fact besides. She was nervously 
 anxious to see what reply the Squire would make to 
 her husband's appeal. Some few days slipped by 
 and Eeginald's letter remained unanswered ; it was 
 in vain he pointed out to her that he could hardly 
 hope to be welcomed with effusion. It was only 
 natural that his father should be angry and not 
 hurry himself to forgive. Kate fretted a good deal 
 over the ominous silence. The following week 
 brought a discovery, which considerably disconcerted 
 Eeginald ; upon receiving his winnings from the 
 Twybury book-maker, true to his purpose, he at 
 once set to work to pay off his debts, and then dis- 
 covered the uselessness of his brilliant manoeuvre, 
 and that, upon the supposition of his death, these 
 had been already settled by his father, and that one 
 plea he counted on for forgiveness was consequently 
 wanting. 
 
FOEGIVEN. 293 
 
 At last Keginald got tired of the Squire's per- 
 sistent silence, and wrote a strong appeal to his 
 mother, telling her, that not liking to ask his father 
 to pay the residue of his college debts, the accident 
 of the Eegent's Park had suggested to him the wily 
 scheme of disappearing, and setting to work with 
 his pen, to earn money to satisfy his creditors. 
 That "A Parthian Flight" was the result of his 
 exertions, and that he could claim a very fair 
 success for a first essay ; that while down at 
 Chillingham, he had come across Kate Darley, with 
 whom by the merest accident he had escaped from the 
 ice, " and, thank Heaven, mother dearest, I've per- 
 suaded her to be my wife ; you know what a sweet, 
 good girl she is, as well as I do, and I assure you that 
 I only want my father's forgiveness and yours to be 
 thoroughly happy. I was wrong not to think of all 
 the pain and anxiety the report of my death would 
 naturally cause you, but it was the impulse of 
 a moment, my creditors were clamorous, and, once 
 committed, I was ashamed to go back — save the 
 deception I have practised upon both of you, I have 
 nothing to be ashamed of." 
 
 Fond as Mrs. Chacewater was of Kate, she most 
 certainly would not have picked her out as a 
 daughter-in-law, but she was a practical woman, and 
 it was no use thinking about that now ; the thing 
 was done, and there was nothing for it but to make 
 the best of it. Kate was his inferior by birth, but, 
 thank goodness, she had been brought up a lady, 
 and then the lady of the Grange fell back upon that 
 
294 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 great consolatory reflection that it might have been 
 worse ; she knew as well as her husband did, that 
 they must forgive Reginald at last, he had made 
 submission, he was their only son, and his offending 
 was not such as to justify perpetual feud between 
 him and his father. Then he was the author of " A 
 Parthian Flight," the story of which everyone was 
 talking, and Mrs. Chacewater felt extremely proud 
 of her son's first literary offspring. So that evening 
 she pleaded Reginald's cause with her husband, and 
 the Squire, who, in reality, only wanted a decent 
 pretence to be reconciled, gladly yielded to his 
 wife's entreaties. A letter of forgiveness was there- 
 fore despatched to the culprit, tempered, as was to 
 be expected, with some rebuke, and an almost con- 
 ditionally expressed desire that Kate should at once 
 retire from her present calling ; and that, at some 
 considerable pecuniary sacrifice, had been already 
 arranged with Mr. Slater. 
 
 While these negotiations were going on between 
 the reigning monarch at the Grange and his exiled 
 heir, the Wargraves were in a state of extreme 
 bewilderment. Neither father nor daughter could 
 at all make out what had happened; Clara was 
 aghast at the complete failure of her scheme, and 
 her father was repenting that he had laid those 
 liberal odds at Epsom. That " King of the Huns " 
 had won, and that Reginald consequently was now in 
 funds, they of course knew, and Mr. Wargrave's 
 agent had made them acquainted with the fact that 
 Reginald had left Twybury, and that he and Kate 
 
FORGIVEN. 295 
 
 Darley were now living openly together as man and 
 wife in the vicinity of the Oxford Circus. 
 
 Clara was more disgusted than ever at the defeat 
 of her machinations and still flouted the idea of 
 their being actually married. But all doubt on this 
 point was speedily dissipated — once Mr. Chacewater 
 had despatched his message of peace he saw no 
 reason for any further concealment, and, as a pre- 
 liminary, at once announced to the Eector that 
 Eeginald was about to return to the Grange and 
 bring a wife with him. "As for saying, Marton, 
 that I am altogether pleased with the marriage and 
 that he has chosen as I could wish, I can't, but the 
 thing is now done." 
 
 " Then he is married to Kate ! " ejaculated the 
 Eector in great astonishment. 
 
 Mr. Chacewater nodded in the affirmative. 
 
 " No, Squire, it's not to be supposed that you would 
 like the match, no father in your place could ; from 
 a worldly point of view he might have done much 
 better, but for a girl that'll stick to him through the 
 wear and tear of life I'm not quite sure he could. 
 It required no doubt in the first instance an effort 
 to forgive them, but we must remember, that we 
 have wronged these young people in believing them 
 to be wicked when they were only foolish." 
 
 The Eector spoke bravely, and in accordance not 
 only with his belief, but his Christian character. 
 Though a man of the world, he was a conscientious 
 priest, and, grasping the situation at once, was 
 desirous for the reconciliation between father and son 
 
29(5 A KAC1NG- KUKBEK. 
 
 to be thoroughly cordial. Still, as he carried the news 
 homewards, he could not but regret the extinction of 
 a day-dream in which he had sometimes indulged. 
 He had never breathed a word of it to Lucy, but she 
 and Reginald were great friends, and he could not 
 help thinking that if they could take a fancy to 
 one another, it would be a great satisfaction before 
 he died to see her installed as future chatelaine to 
 Chacewater Grange. He was not a rich man, and, 
 apart from his preferment, had but a modest income. 
 It would have been pleasant to have thought of his 
 little Lucy reigning eventually as the great lady of 
 the parish in which they were. However, there 
 was an end to all that now, and he could only hope 
 that Lucy's affections were still under her own 
 control. That his daughter should receive the news 
 unmoved, though a source of satisfaction to the 
 Eector, was not to be wondered at. To begin with, 
 she was not an emotional damsel, and in the next 
 place, she by no means possessed the callous worldly 
 wisdom of Clara Wargrave. Such transgression as 
 Reginald had been held guilty of, would have made 
 any love affair between her and the man who com- 
 mitted it impossible, at least for a time. She was no 
 believer in such transitory affections, and moreover, 
 like Parson Wilber's parishioners, possessed " Old- 
 fashioned ideas of what's wrong and what ain't," 
 and had schooled herself for some little time now, 
 to crush all feeling she had originally had for him. 
 The girl honestly strove to persuade herself that she 
 was glad that Reginald's conduct had been shame- 
 
FOEGIVEN. 297 
 
 fully misrepresented, they could still be all honestly 
 proud of the successful author, and made up her 
 mind to call upon Mrs. Eeginald as soon as she 
 should arrive, and be great friends, if Kate would 
 only allow her to be so. 
 
 The Rector thoroughly understood that the news 
 had been given him expressly for publication ; it 
 was, further, only common justice that the scandal 
 current in Bottlesby against Kate should be at 
 once strongly refuted; and the consequence was 
 that before twenty-four hours were over the tidings 
 reached Carlingham Park, and were received there 
 in the first instance with much incredulity, but 
 enquiry soon convinced Sam Wargrave of the truth, 
 and that Reginald and Kate were really married. 
 When at length convinced that her designs were 
 finally overthrown, the fair Clara exhibited the 
 snappish side of her disposition, to which allusion 
 has already been made. She was not such a fool as 
 to dream of showing her disappointment outside her 
 own family ; but it is quite certain that Reginald's 
 marriage was much more earnestly deplored by her 
 father and mother than it was by his own people. 
 Miss Wargrave's dictum on the situation was that 
 they should at once call and offer frigid congratu- 
 lations on the event. 
 
 " It will never do, papa," she said, " to be the 
 least backward in the matter, and as soon as the 
 happy couple arrive, we must of course call upon 
 them, and ask them to dinner. They are our 
 nearest neighbours, and are likely to be rather 
 
298 A RACING- RUBBER. 
 
 touchy about the bride being properly welcomed. 
 It's a terrible thing for them, of course, and poor 
 Eeginald will no doubt be sick to death of the baby- 
 faced chit before six months are over." 
 
 Miss Wargrave had never taken very much notice 
 of Kate, although she had of course seen her in the 
 days when she was governess at the Grange. A 
 tall, showy young woman herself, she had regarded 
 Kate as an insignificant little thing, undervaluing 
 her good looks, as women are apt to do their 
 opposites. Although she kept it to herself, she was 
 as angry as she ever permitted herself to be ; but 
 she had great powers of self-control and, save her 
 increased acerbity towards her father and mother, 
 gave no sign of her wrath ; nevertheless her schem- 
 ing brain was already plotting revenge against her 
 successful rival. A vain, good-looking girl, she had 
 certainly, before his disappearance, believed Reginald 
 by no means indifferent to her personal attractions. 
 With her consummate taste in dress and knowledge 
 of the world, the fair Clara thought, the glamour of 
 his passion once over, she should speedily eclipse 
 the circus girl, as she had contemptuously called 
 Kate, in Reginald's eyes. Men are weak, and if she 
 could inflict the pangs of jealousy upon Kate, Miss 
 Wargrave had no intention of denying herself that 
 gratification. 
 
 There was one person, however, to whom the 
 announcement of Reginald's marriage gave unquali- 
 fied satisfaction, and that was his sister Jessie. 
 That her brother should marry her dearest friend 
 
CONCLUSION. 29'J 
 
 was, as she said, delightful, and she so expatiated 
 upon the subject to her mother, that, on their 
 arrival a few days later, Mrs. Chacewater was almost 
 as enthusiastic in welcoming her new daughter as 
 Jessie herself. There was a long talk between 
 Keginald and the Squire that night, in which he 
 went frankly into the details of the whole of the 
 last year of his life ; told how he had backed " King 
 of the Huns " out of the proceeds of his book, at his 
 wife's suggestion, and had won money enough to 
 have paid all his debts, and had found they were 
 already settled. " Nevertheless, father," he said, 
 "the money came in very handy, for Kate had 
 apprenticed herself to the Koyal Hippodrome, and 
 was such a success there, that old Slater, the pro- 
 prietor, made me pay five hundred to cancel her 
 indentures. And though, perhaps, in your eyes, 
 I have made a foolish choice, I don't think so ; and, 
 after all said and done, it's my mother's fault. If 
 she hadn't brought up Kate to be a lady it would 
 never have happened." 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 There might be a little hesitation, but that the 
 neighbourhood generally would welcome Mrs. 
 Keginald was pretty certain to be the case ; and 
 the neighbourhood was then most agreeably dis- 
 appointed. From the position she had formerly 
 held at the Grange, Kate was unknown to most of 
 them ; and, as the daughter of a farmer, and one 
 
300 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 who had been a professional circus-rider, callers were 
 prepared to meet a bold-eyed, masculine woman, 
 and were fairly astounded at the slight, pretty, lady- 
 like girl that Mrs. Chacewater presented to them as 
 " my new daughter." In short, Kate was a great 
 success, and, as one old friend of the Squire's 
 remarked to his wife, driving home from their first 
 call on Mrs. Keginald : " I tell you what, Emily, if 
 that's the way they bring them up in the Eoyal 
 Hippodrome, I only wish our girls had gone there 
 instead of to that school at Brighton." Mrs. 
 Wilbraham laughed at her liege lord's joke, as she 
 replied : " A risky experiment ; but, I confess, one 
 would never guess that Mrs. Eeginald had ever done 
 anything of that kind." 
 
 The Wargraves, in particular, were amongst the 
 earliest to welcome them ; as neighbours living only 
 five or six miles away, it was only natural they 
 should be. He was habitually hospitable, but, at 
 his daughter's instigation, Sam Wargrave was 
 profuse in his attentions to the new married couple. 
 Miss Wargrave declared that it was indispensable, 
 as she could not bear it to be supposed that she had 
 been left to wear the willow, a matter that had 
 occurred to few of the people round about. True, 
 here and there old ladies remembered that there 
 had been a bit of flirtation between the two, and 
 had wondered whether anything would come of it ; 
 but it had pretty well faded out of recollection, and 
 Clara knew as well as anybody that it had done so. 
 But she had always cared for Keginald, as far as it 
 
CONCLUSION. 301 
 
 was in her to care for anyone. The country was 
 dull, and if she could amuse herself by producing 
 a misunderstanding between husband and wife it 
 would be no unpleasing addition to Miss War- 
 grave's enjoyment. The consequence was that, 
 when the shooting season came round, Eeginald 
 was often asked over to Carlingham Park for a day 
 or two as a bachelor. Kate was not suspicious ; bub 
 from the first she had conceived an instinctive dis- 
 like to Clara. She had implicit trust in her husband, 
 but she could not help thinking that he was more 
 at Carlingham Park than there was any occasion 
 for. Still, she did not trouble her head very much 
 about it. 
 
 The dropping a stitch in knitting, I believe, is 
 likely to unravel the whole work, and circumstances 
 they could not have anticipated, were about to drag 
 the machinations of the Wargraves into broad day- 
 light. It must be borne in mind, in the first place, 
 that both father and daughter had no belief in 
 Eeginald's marriage, until some few weeks after the 
 City and Suburban was decided. Mrs. Wargrave, 
 although somewhat afraid of her daughter, was 
 an energetic, managing woman, generally wrote her 
 invitations herself, and had hitherto invariably 
 penned those so lavished on Eeginald and his wife. 
 But when, one morning, Clara suggested that 
 Eeginald Chace water should be asked to join a 
 shooting-party, which had been organised for the 
 ensuing week, she willingly assented, but pleaded 
 being very busy and asked her daughter to write it 
 
302 A EACING RUBBEE. 
 
 for her. Miss Wargrave, without giving the matter 
 a thought, did so at once ; if anyone had suggested 
 to her that she had better not, she would have 
 asked with unfeigned curiosity, why not ? That 
 anonymous letter she had penned some six months 
 ago had, by this, pretty well faded from her memory, 
 and, even had it not, she would have failed to see 
 that writing an invitation to Reginald Chacewater 
 to come and shoot could have any possible con- 
 nection with the subject. The note arrived at the 
 Grange during breakfast, and after opening it 
 Eeginald tossed it on the table, remarking as he 
 did so, " An invitation to shoot at Carlingham ; I 
 think I'll go." 
 
 " Wargrave must have a lot of birds this year," 
 said the Squire. " How long is it for, Reggie ? 
 Remember I want you at home on Friday." 
 
 " All right, I shall be back by then, it's only for 
 two days," and so saying, he lounged out of the room. 
 
 When Kate rose, she passed her husband's seat 
 on her way to the door, and as she did so, noticed 
 Clara's note, and picked it up in purposeless fashion ; 
 but as her eye fell upon it, the handwriting struck 
 her ; where had she seen that hand before ? It was 
 not Mrs. Wargrave's, of that she was quite sure, and 
 as she glanced through the note and came to the 
 signature of Clara Wargrave she recollected. Surely 
 it was the same handwriting as that in the note 
 that Tom Bramber had given her. That note was 
 in her dressing-case still, and it would be easy to 
 compare the two. If so, Clara AVargrave was the 
 
CONCLUSION. 303 
 
 woman who had instigated Tom Bramber to strike 
 " King of the Huns" out of the City and Suburban. 
 But why had she done so ? The reasons she gave in 
 that letter were merely arguments to induce Bramber 
 to do what she wished. But why did she wish it ? 
 It must have been in her father's interest. Kate had 
 heard of the successful fete that Mr. Wargrave had 
 given on the strength of his "Chorister" winnings. 
 She knew also of the mishap that had befallen 
 " King of the Huns " in the Derby from her brother, 
 and Jim had darkly hinted, at the time, that the 
 collision which had destroyed [the horse's chance, 
 had been deliberately planned. Mr. Wargrave must 
 have betted heavily against the " King " at the City 
 and Suburban, and at his suggestion Clara must 
 have written that letter to Tom Bramber. By this 
 time Kate had reached her bed-room and was com- 
 paring the two notes ; yes, there could be little doubt 
 about it, the hand that had penned the one had most 
 assuredly penned the other. What a disgraceful 
 thing; she did not like Miss Wargrave, but she 
 would never have believed that she would have 
 stooped to do a thing of this kind. Then her eye 
 fell on the shameful aspersion of her own honour, 
 and the blood flew to her temples, and her eyes 
 sparkled, and a bit of the old leaven flashed out, as 
 she said to herself, she would know this woman no 
 more. She felt sure, when Reginald and the Squire 
 were made aware of it, that they also would be of 
 opinion that neither Clara Wargrave nor her father 
 were fit to associate with honest folks. 
 
304 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 When Keginald was shown the two notes he was 
 furious : that a man pretending to be a gentleman 
 should behave in this wise, was disgraceful, for that 
 Clara had written at her father's dictation, he had 
 no doubt ; but the thing that angered him chiefly, 
 was the attack upon his wife's fair fame. When the 
 Squire was informed of the discovery he took a more 
 rational view of the matter. " Decline that invi- 
 tation, by all means, and we'll drop the Wargraves ; 
 that letter of his daughter's is quite justification 
 for doing so, but now you must look at the whole 
 thing from his point of view. Wargrave can give a 
 very specious explanation of his conduct to the 
 world generally. To begin with, my boy, by 
 keeping your marriage secret, you gave a handle 
 for the report that it had not taken place, and he 
 will argue that Miss Wargrave only wrote what all 
 Bottlesby believed ; and in the next place he will 
 admit that he had his own reason for " King of the 
 Huns " not winning the City and Suburban, and that 
 he did his best, in consequence, to induce Bramber 
 to strike him out. Sharp practice, if you will, but 
 hardly sufficient to ostracise a man altogether. As 
 far as we go, the acquaintance must cease, but I 
 don't see what more you can do." 
 
 Keginald saw that it was not desirable to revive 
 all the scandal current about Kate and himself 
 before they were married, and it was also true that 
 Sam Wargrave could give a tolerably plausible 
 account of the matter ; but for all that, the idea that 
 the Wargraves were not to be called to account 
 
CONCLUSION. 305 
 
 for their villainy was a bitter pill to swallow. 
 What could have made them so bitter against him ? 
 What had made Clara attempt so malignantly to 
 blacken his wife's character ? And that was 
 rather a puzzle to Kate herself; but when the 
 Squire's view of the case was put before her, she 
 utterly refused to pass the thing over in the placid 
 manner that he suggested. 
 
 " JNo," she exclaimed, " I'll have it out with this 
 woman face to face. I will show her her own letter, 
 and tell her it's a lie. Why she has uttered it, I 
 don't know, but I will. She never thought that note 
 would fall into my hands, but it has, and so will her 
 motive for writing it come to my knowledge. It is 
 war to the knife between us. And I will make no 
 terms with Clara Wargrave." Kate had of course 
 told both the Squire and her husband of her visit 
 to Bramber's farm, her accidental encounter with 
 Praze, and how she became possessed of the note. 
 That she should let the trainer know she had dis- 
 covered the writer of it, was natural ; as also it would 
 have been to acquaint Bramber of the discovery, but 
 Tom had left Bottlesby and gone off to settle nobody 
 exactly knew where. A few days brought Praze's 
 reply, in which he could only attribute the whole 
 affair to the evil machinations of his old enemies the 
 " Wargrave lot," and chuckled much at having once 
 again got the better of his opponents. He also 
 narrated how, at the last moment, Wargrave himself 
 had actually attempted to bribe Jim Darley to pull 
 his horse, and so lose the race. 
 
 20 
 
306 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 " We have him now," cried Eeginald, when he had 
 read the letter. " We can have him up before the 
 Stewards of the Jockey Club for fraudulent practices, 
 and I should think if they please they could warn 
 him off the Turf, at all events the exposure would be 
 sufficient to cause his ostracism by all decent 
 people," and the Squire thoroughly endorsed his son's 
 view of the case. In Eeginald's eyes the trainer's 
 was the right reading of things, a mere ordinary 
 attempt to make money, by betting against " King 
 of the Huns " and then insuring his defeat. But 
 Kate adhered to her opinion that Clara had some 
 other motive to serve when she penned that note to 
 Bramber, and as to what that was, she was speedily 
 enlightened. She had become very great friends 
 with Lucy Marton, and in the course of a confidential 
 chat one afternoon gave her a somewhat sketchy 
 account of the transaction, and said that what puzzled 
 her about the business was Miss Wargrave's inter- 
 fering in it at all. 
 
 " She has always struck me as a very independent 
 young lady, and by no means given to pay much 
 attention to the wishes of her father or mother." 
 
 " Yes," replied Lucy, " she is not much given to ask 
 guidance from anyone, and what her object can have 
 been upon this occasion I can't see. She couldn't 
 even have known that the horse's success or defeat 
 would concern Reginald, but 1 can give you one hint 
 that may throw some light upon it. I am convinced 
 that before he disappeared she intended to marry 
 him, and I think till your marriage was announced 
 
CONCLUSION. 307 
 
 the probability is that she had not quite given up 
 that hope." 
 
 Lucy did not think it judicious to say so, or she 
 might have added that the fair Clara had of late 
 manifested a decided inclination to annex Eeginald 
 as an admirer, and that she thought it behoved Kate 
 to take care of her " own " even now, but wisely held 
 her tongue ; still her speech let a flood of light into 
 Mrs. Reginald's mind, and she resolved that 
 reckoning between her and Miss Wargrave should 
 not only come, but come quickly. 
 
 It must not be supposed that when Kate Chace- 
 water decided on " bearding the lion in his den," 
 and confronting Miss Wargrave with the slander 
 and treachery of which she believed her guilty, 
 that no feelings of anxiety or trepidation assailed 
 her. On the contrary, as she stood before her 
 glass, and set her neat little felt hat rather defiantly 
 on her dark curls, and proceeded to otherwise prepare 
 herself for the encounter, a half doubt crossed her 
 mind if, after all, it might not have been well to 
 abide by the Squire's advice, and, as everything had 
 after all come right, " let sleeping dogs lie." 
 
 " Would it be better," she murmured to herself, 
 as she buttoned her close fitting jacket, " to do this ? " 
 and not to rake up the story of her marriage, and so 
 give her rival the chance of insulting her with that 
 old slander, which through the kind reception of 
 her husband's parents, had almost completely died 
 away. Then class prejudice runs very strongly in 
 
 20* 
 
303 A RACING RUBBER.. 
 
 small country places, and a girl brought up as was 
 Kate Darley is apt to regard the inhabitants of such 
 houses as Carlingham Park as a somewhat superior 
 order of beings, whom it is difficult to approach on 
 terms of equality. 
 
 But Kate was possessed of considerable nerve and 
 pluck, and besides this, love and anger, which will 
 make the most patient Grriselda brave, entered con- 
 siderably into the feelings which induced her at 
 length to decide on going at once to the Park and 
 demanding an interview. 
 
 Loving Eeginald as dearly as she did, and feeling 
 herself to be scarcely worthy of the devotion 
 which her husband gave her, what to her mind 
 seemed the highest honour any girl might look 
 for, that of being his wife and the future 
 mistress of the Grange, Kate also felt that (if 
 only for his sake) it behoved her to face Miss 
 Wargrave at once, and to make her acknowledge 
 her perfidy, apologise for her impertinence, and in 
 fact to generally bite the dust. 
 
 So young Mrs. Chacewater found herself walking 
 up the long drive which led to the hall door of 
 Carlingham Park, inwardly considering how she 
 should commence the attack and what she should 
 do if, as was quite likely, Clara Wargrave should 
 coolly disclaim all knowledge of the anonymous 
 letter. 
 
 " For," thought Kate to herself, as she walked 
 rapidly along, " although I feel sure the hand- 
 writing is the same, and that moreover she had 
 
CONCLUSION. 3C9 
 
 designs on Eeggie, and would have sacrificed me or 
 anyone to have secured him for herself, yet I have 
 no absolute proof, and, if she denies it, where can I 
 obtain any ? " 
 
 At last she decided to let things take their chance 
 and be guided by circumstances as to how she should 
 bring the accusation home to the sinner. 
 
 On arriving at the house, she was informed by 
 the butler that Miss Wargrave was at home, and 
 would be with her immediately. 
 
 During the interval which elapsed between the 
 exit of that functionary and Clara's entrance, Kate 
 " pulled herself together," as it were, for the coming 
 battle. Looking round the big handsome room, 
 which bore more evidences of wealth than the more 
 faded beauty of the reception rooms at the Grange, 
 Kate took heart, and told herself that if she had 
 been deemed good enough to be wooed and won by 
 Reginald Chacewater, and to be accepted by his 
 mother as her daughter, she was indeed quite equal 
 to upholding her position with people like the 
 Wargraves, of whom their money might be said to 
 be their strongest claim to distinction. She was still 
 thinking when the door opened and Miss Wargrave 
 entered the room. 
 
 Now it often happens that when we have laid our 
 plans with great care and subtlety, some little and 
 quite unexpected circumstance will throw all our 
 strategy to one side, and we shall after all take an 
 entirely different line of action to what we had 
 arranged. So it was in the present instance that 
 
310 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 Kate, who had meant elaborately and by degrees to 
 introduce the subject of the anonymous letter, was 
 surprised, as will be seen, into a movement which 
 made its authorship a thing beyond dispute, while 
 it is probable that had she quietly proceeded, as she 
 at first intended, Clara's aplomb would have stood 
 to her and she might for ever have evaded the 
 possibility of detection. But there undoubtedly is, 
 deep underlying the thin veneer of civilization and 
 the superficial polish which it gives, a certain vein 
 of natural savagery in our natures, which some 
 unlooked-for incident will force out, and never is 
 this more strongly marked than in a quarrel 
 between two women who have been rivals. 
 
 In this case jealousy was predominant in the 
 hearts of both, and there is no stronger factor in the 
 gamut of human passions, or one more warranted 
 to bring out bitterness, in its raw state. 
 
 Kate looked long and steadily at the woman 
 who, perfectly dressed and with a careless, half- 
 contemptuous air of intimacy, now approached 
 her. Womanlike, she closely observed, without 
 appearing to do so, the exquisite get-up, and 
 stately figure of the girl who had, she believed, 
 cruelly maligned her in times past, and who now 
 tried to alienate her husband. Probably at that 
 moment, although she herself was unaware of it, 
 Miss Wargrave's undoubted beauty and extremely 
 becoming morning toilette added gall to bitter- 
 ness, for it is wonderful how much more forgiving 
 one woman is likely to be to another, however 
 
CONCLUSION. 311 
 
 deeply sinning, if she meets her in an ill-fitting 
 gown. 
 
 Clara Wargrave's insouciance meanwhile was 
 entirely assumed. She too had, or thought she had, 
 bitter reasons of dislike towards young Mrs. Chace- 
 water. Such love as Clara had to spare for anyone 
 but herself she had given long ago to Eeginald, she 
 had, so to speak, marked him for her own, long 
 before he or anyone had thought of little Kate 
 Darley as anything but a child — old Farmer 
 Darley 's neglected daughter, as she contemptuously 
 described her. But for this little upstart, this 
 nursery governess, this circus rider ! Miss Wargrave 
 believed she would ere this have been Eeginald 
 Chacewater's wife, a position which, apart from the 
 real affection she had for him, would have suited 
 her exactly. As has been shown, Clara Wargrave 
 greatly exaggerated the feelings which Mr. Chace- 
 water had entertained for her. He thought her 
 indeed a handsome woman, with whom he was quite 
 willing to flirt, but he had no fixed idea of falling 
 in love with her to any extent, still less of asking 
 her to be his wife; but a spoiled, handsome, self- 
 willed girl like Clara Wargrave, who was also an 
 heiress to boot, would have found this difficult to 
 credit, and that his admiration went no further than 
 this limit never entered her mind, on the contrary 
 she regarded Kate as one who had unfairly robbed 
 her of her legitimate lover, and whom therefore she 
 justly hated. As a matter of fact Reginald had 
 never cared for anyone but the girl he married, 
 
312 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 whose sympathy and regard had been so innocently 
 and affectionately displayed towards himself during 
 the dark days of his adversity. 
 
 And now as Clara looked at the pretty girlish face 
 and figure of the woman who stood, as she believed, 
 in her place, a great hatred for her rival seized her, 
 and so far from regretting any previous attempt to 
 injure her, she resolved that if it were to be done, 
 she would — although no one was better aware than 
 herself how useless and detrimental is a flirtation 
 between a girl and a married man — make Keginald 
 Chacewater love her, and so revenge herself on his 
 wife. 
 
 " I hope," said she, coolly offering her hand to 
 Mrs. Chacewater, " you have not been here long ? 
 I have been interviewing my dressmaker, and as she 
 comes from town to fit me — a thing I believe 
 she will do for no one else — I always consider her 
 visit as too solemn for interruption. In fact I give 
 orders that no one is to disturb me while Madame 
 Leroux is here." 
 
 Kate Chacewater took no notice of the extended 
 hand, except by a slight gesture of her own, 
 implying that she rejected this usual salutation, 
 and fixing her large eyes on the other's face said : 
 
 " Had I been obliged to wait far longer I should 
 still have done so, for I meant to see you." 
 
 " Indeed," said Miss Wargrave with assumed cool- 
 ness, while she inwardly raged at the " insolence of 
 this girl," in declining her proffered hand, " I can 
 hardly imagine that anything that you could have to 
 
CONCLUSION. 313 
 
 say to me would be of much importance. Some- 
 thing about the new golf club, I suppose? but 
 really I have not much to do with that. Such a 
 number of odd persons get into all our clubs 
 now, that it is useless to attempt to keep them 
 at all nice ! It's really better to resign oneself at 
 once to the inevitable, and keep to one's private 
 ground." 
 
 " I agree with you," said Kate, " that it is difficult 
 to keep a club, or even a neighbourhood, at all * nice ' 
 when persons are admitted whose education at any 
 rate should have made them conduct themselves as 
 ladies, but who are, like yourself, too innately bad to 
 be influenced by any training." 
 
 " Training ! " sneered Miss Wargrave. " You 
 speak as if you were still in your circus ! " 
 
 " No," said Kate, " I do not. The poor girls in 
 the circus were simply ignorant, they were not — as I 
 knew them — either traducers or slanderers. Not one 
 of them but would have been ashamed to act as you 
 have acted. Not one would have tried to blacken my 
 character, or have made love to my husband ! " 
 
 " Blacken your character ? " cried Clara, beside her- 
 self with rage, at this last thrust. " To ur character ! 
 What character have you to speak of?— you who 
 were Mr. Chacewater's mistress, as we all know, and 
 lured him into marrying you out of pity. Ask the 
 man Bramber, who would have married you, but 
 for your disgraceful conduct ! " 
 
 " Ah ! " cried Kate, producing the two letters, and 
 thrusting them before the angry woman. "I have 
 
314 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 asked Mr. Bramber, and he has shown me your 
 letter in which you dare to say " 
 
 " Dare ! yes, and I dare it again," said Clara, 
 interrupting her furiously. "You to speak of 
 character ! you to dare to come here ! a common 
 circus girl ! and worse than even we know, I dare- 
 say. I might easily have said worse of you, and yet 
 not have said too much." 
 
 " Ah ! " cried Kate, " then it was you who wrote 
 these shameful letters ? I knew it ! I knew it, but 
 you have confessed. And now all 'the neighbour- 
 hood ' which you are so anxious to keep ' nice ' shall 
 know what sort of woman Miss Clara Wargrave really 
 is, and what sort of man her father is also, to permit 
 his daughter to act thus ; and my husband ! any 
 gentlemau in the county will see that Mr. Wargrave's 
 attempt to tamper with the jockey who rode e The 
 King ' is brought before the Jockey Club. There 
 will be punishment for such a cruel plot as you 
 and he had prepared for us — for me and my dear 
 husband — who have never injured you." 
 
 Clara, who in her fury had almost forgotten the 
 anonymous letter which she had written to Tom 
 Bramber (more than six months ago), now saw too 
 late that she had betrayed herself, and, as the con- 
 sequences of this mistake, both to herself and her 
 father, crowded on her mind, felt almost over- 
 whelmed. 
 
 " I — did not see ! " she began stammering, " I did 
 not recognise the handwriting! I have admitted 
 nothing, I deny " 
 
CONCLUSION. 315 
 
 M It is all useless now," said Kate, who, feeling 
 mistress of the situation, could afford to be calm 
 again. " I know all, and what is more, all Bottlesby 
 shall know it also. I wish you good morning, Miss 
 Wargrave, and I think it will be long before I — or 
 anyone who hears this story — will care to enter 
 Carlingham Park again." 
 
 Then drawing her slim figure to its full height, 
 young Mrs. Chacewater swept past her prostrate 
 rival, who made no attempt to stop her, and with the 
 very slightest inclination of her head, left the room, 
 and the house — it is needless to say for ever. 
 
 Clara Wargrave sat still for a long time, feeling 
 absolutely crushed by the situation into which her 
 own spite and folly had led her. Furious with the 
 girl who had just left her — bitterly angry with 
 Eeginald for preferring another to herself — she 
 was still more angry with her own conduct in the 
 affair. That she, who prided herself on her tact, 
 should have neglected the commonest precaution of 
 sufficiently disguising the addresses of the two 
 letters ! 
 
 " That I should have been such a fool," she mur- 
 mured to herself, as she watched Kate's vanishing 
 figure in the distance, going down the long curves of 
 the drive, •* as to have such an admission surprised 
 out of me by that girl. Why had I not aplomb 
 enough to coolly deny it ? — there was no proof." 
 
 Then, too, Kate's last words, uttered at hazard as 
 they were, filled her soul with terror ! What if 
 really it were possible to drag this affair — which 
 
316 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 Clara more than suspected was true — before the 
 Jockey Club, of her father's tampering with the 
 jockey — Kate's own brother, she recollected — who 
 was to ride the " King of the Huns " in the great 
 race ! 
 
 " Well," she thought, " after all, there is one 
 comfort, there were no witnesses to this scene ! it is 
 but her word against mine. And if it comes to the 
 worst, I must deny the whole thing. As to father, 
 he must do the best he can, and I can trust him to 
 get out of it somehow." 
 
 After a storm, there generally comes calm, and 
 so, when Kate had, to her own mind and to her 
 husband's, satisfactorily proved that the spiteful 
 writer of the anonymous letter and Clara Wargrave 
 were one and the same person, they decided after 
 the first burst of indignation to let the matter drop. 
 Kate was satisfied to see that the discovery had 
 thoroughly disgusted Keginald with the fair Clara, 
 and that he had no longer any wish to go to the 
 shootings at Carlingham Park. She had never 
 been at all jealous of her husband, feeling indeed 
 too secure of his love, but still no woman likes to 
 have her husband continually asked to a house in 
 the neighbourhood without her, and as a bride 
 Kate had especially resented this in the Wargrave 
 invitation. 
 
 Eeginald, who was deeply angered by the inso- 
 lence of the remarks in the letter anent his wife, 
 yet felt that it was difficult to expose Clara's base- 
 ness to any good end. It would merely rake up the 
 
CONCLUSION. 317 
 
 foolish scandal about their marriage, and now as 
 they were becoming popular in the neighbourhood, 
 they both felt it better to let the Wargraves alone. 
 Reginald contented himself with writing a sharp 
 letter to Clara's father, in which he expressed 
 himself strongly on the subject of both his and his 
 daughter's behaviour. 
 
 This letter, received as it was just as they were 
 going to dinner, made Mr. Wargrave exceedingly 
 uncomfortable, and certainly deprived him of his 
 usual appetite. 
 
 After dinner, he called Clara into the library, and 
 they had a long talk, during which they exchanged 
 several uncomplimentary opinions of each other's 
 tactics, but on one point they were quite agreed, 
 namely to keep the matter to themselves, if they were 
 permitted to do so by the enemy. 
 
 " Fact is, Clara," said old Wargrave, " you and 
 me have made a mistake, the worst mistake of all, 
 my girl — we have gone and got found out ! " 
 
 " Yes, papa," said Miss Clara, " and if we all 
 went up to town a little earlier than usual, it would 
 be as well ! — and give things here time to shake into 
 their places again." 
 
 And so it was decided, and for a time Bottlesby 
 knew them no more. 
 
 There is little more to add ere saying good-bye to 
 the dramatis persona? of this story. Miss Wargrave 
 did go to town, and feeling that her credit in the 
 neighbourhood of Bottlesby was somewhat insecure, 
 and perhaps — who knows? — wishing to show Reginald 
 
31S A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 that she would not wear the willow for him 
 eventually married one of her father's friends, a 
 City man, whose fortune at any rate left nothing to 
 be desired, and if her husband was not quite the 
 aristocratic hero of her early dreams, he was, at any 
 rate, a good honest fellow, and indeed — as Kate said 
 on meeting Mr. and Mrs. Josephson long afterwards 
 at a local party — 6t a great deal too good for her." 
 
 As for Keginald and his impulsive, warm-hearted 
 little wife, they settled down most happily at the 
 Grange, and — when, in the fulness of time the old 
 Squire and his wife were laid at rest in the quiet 
 churchyard, where so many dead and gone Chace- 
 waters already slept — had become thoroughly dear to 
 those amongst whom they lived, and popular alike 
 with rich and poor. 
 
 Reginald's literary work occupied much of his 
 time, and if in his latter days of prosperity he 
 never achieved such a brilliant success as in his first 
 novel — written under the clouds of adversity and 
 poverty — he yet held his own amongst his compeers. 
 And Kate, at any rate, believed there never were 
 such stories written before or since. 
 
 Theirs is indeed a most happy household, and as 
 time goes on and children come to the Grange, 
 old Mrs. Darley — released at length from her long 
 bondage by the death of her husband — takes up her 
 abode near them, and I think likes the honour and 
 glory of the big house almost as well as the super- 
 vision of the grandchildren — although to her dying 
 day she never admitted that she did. 
 
CONCLUSION. 319 
 
 Even the feud between the Wargraves and them- 
 selves seemed likely to heal when Lucy Marston at 
 length decided to accept the eldest son of the house, 
 Captain Horace Wargrave, whose military ex- 
 periences had much improved him already, and 
 whose love for Lucy went still further to make him 
 a very decent fellow, with nothing of his father's 
 vulgarity or his sister's ostentation. 
 
 Mr. Praze continues to prosper, and often 
 when he can spare the time he runs down to see 
 Tom Bramber, who — his first love-troubles well got 
 over and forgotten — has married the pretty daughter 
 of a neighbouring farmer, who, albeit she knows of 
 her Tom's early infatuation, likes and admires Mrs. 
 Chacewater of the Grange with all her heart. 
 
 Praze's prophecy comes off to the letter. Jim 
 Darley, ere many months have passed, does indeed 
 sport silk ! and becomes one of the first jockeys of 
 the day, to the great joy and pride of his old patron. 
 
 As to the famous " King of the Huns," his 
 racing triumphs over — and are they not written 
 in the chronicles of his day ? — he finds a luxurious 
 home in the breezy paddocks near his old master's 
 house, and in the comfortable clover pasture and 
 good sleeping quarters which are his lot passes the 
 honourable remainder of his days. And so with 
 him — not the least important personage in it — our 
 little story ends. 
 
 Kate and Keginald never forget that on him had 
 once hung their fate and happiness, and are pro- 
 portionately grateful 
 
320 A RACING RUBBER. 
 
 " Ah, Eeggie," said Kate, one Sunday afternoon, as 
 she and her husband stood looking at their old 
 friend, " we had better luck than we deserved. If 
 I had not run away from school ! if you had not 
 got into debt ! if the ( King ' had not run fast 
 enough ! " 
 
 " Well," said her husband, "in that case I should 
 never have written my book — and perhaps never 
 have met you — and certainly the ' King ' would not 
 have won the Rubber — but there is much virtue in 
 an'if.'" 
 
 TEE END. 
 

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