Part 35 (1/2)

And then I see it. A coach-and-four just pa.s.sing the pillars and heading down the road toward us, about a half mile away.

”Amy, dear, will you take Millie by the collar so she doesn't follow me. I want to get a closer look at their equipment.”

”I do not have to hold her collar. Here, Millie. Sit. Stay. Now what...”

But I am already heading for the drum.

I hang about the tripod of guns, pretending interest in the old flintlocks and keeping an eye on the road and its approaching coach. About a quarter mile now.

I dip down and pick up the drum and slip the harness around my shoulder and take it up a few notches till it sits on my hip just like my old drum on the Dolphin, and I take up the sticks and rattles off a drumroll and then settles into a pattern, and then I sings out as loud as I can.

”Lord Randall he was tall and slim,

And he had a leg for every limb.

But now he's got no legs at all,

For he ran a race with a cannonball!

With me rue dum dah,

Faddle riddle dah whack!

For the riddle with me rue dum dah!”

When I come to the whack! I give the drum rim a hard hit with the stick so it sounds like a rifle shot. All the men are facing me and their delight is plain. They are trying to keep from laughing at their gallant commander's discomfort, but some are not succeeding. Randall's back is to me and I can't see his face, but his head seems to sink down behind his high blue collar, and while I cannot see his ears, I got a real suspicion that steam is comin' out of each. I keep the drum rhythm going and go to the second verse, ”Oh, were you deaf or were you blind,

When you left your two fine legs behind?

Or was it sailing on the sea,

That wore your legs right down to the knee?

With me rue dum dah,

Faddle riddle dah whack!

For the riddle with me rue dum dah!”

Still not enough, Randall? All the companies are now watching this play out. Very well, here's another verse, ”Lord Randall he was long and tall,

Till he lost a race with a cannonball,

Now he sits with...”

That did it. He jams his sword back into his scabbard and turns to chase me. I squeal and slip off the drum and run back up the rise toward the road and I can hear him poundin' up behind me and I run fast ... but not too fast.

Now run, Jacky, that's it, a little bit more now. Let him get right behind you, now get close to the road. Now trip, Jacky, oh poor dear, now trip and fall to the ground, you frail female thing you, and feel the tangle of his legs with yours as he falls on top of you and pins your wrists to the ground. Now look up into his face, Jacky. Why, he don't look half mad at all, does he, Jacky, he looks more, well ... l.u.s.ty like.

He brings his face down to mine and I turn my face to the right and feel the rasp of his jaw on my cheek, and he tries again and I turn my face to the left and again he misses. Then I face forward and he's about to come down for the prize when he hears the rattle of the coach-and-four and he looks up into the wide-open and unbelieving blue eyes of Miss Clarissa Worthington Howe, staring out the window.

The coach rumbles on. Randall thrusts himself to his feet and calls me a name I wouldn't have thought he would have known, him bein' a gent and all.

I get up on one elbow and watch Lord Randall follow the retreating coach to the house. Then I feel Millie's cold nose poke me in my cheek and I hear Amy say, ”Take her back to the house.”

I do not take my dinner with the Trevelynes this night, as I am banished by Amy to the kitchen. Fine. Just as well. Let the lovers stew.

I have a fine dinner with Mrs. Grubbs and the downstairs staff, and afterward, I walk out into the evening and go to see Pete in his room. There's a line of rooms built into the grandstand for the visiting jockeys and grooms and it sounds like there are parties going on in several of them, but I look at Petey and know for sure he ain't goin' to any of 'em, as he don't look good at all. He tries to put on a brave front, but I place my hand on his forehead and feel that he's burning up with fever.

”Don't worry, La.s.s, I ain't never missed a race yet.”

”Ain't there no one else what can take your place tomorrow? Take the load off you, like, in case you need more time in the kip?”