Volume I Part 11 (2/2)
Fortescue was taken to the carriage and quickly driven away.
”Ah, Alice!” said he, ”I told you I should carry your colours to the fore.”
”Thank G.o.d you did so! This is your first and last race, promise me.”
The Captain went back to Clough-bally-More Castle; but in a day or two he was _non est_, and his creditors were done.
The regiment had a jovial night of it. Fortescue's health was drunk in b.u.mper after b.u.mper; but he was not there to acknowledge the compliment; some one else had him in charge.
A short time after the Stiffs.h.i.+re were quartered in Manchester, and the Colonel one day encountered no less a person than Captain O'Rooney.
”See now, Colonel,” said the latter, ”you must bear me no ill-will. I did a shabby trick, I'll allow, at the wall, but I was a ruined man.
I'm all right now. I've married a rich cotton-spinner's widow with some three thousand a year; but it's all settled on her.”
Fortescue and Miss Gwynne are long ago married; and at the different race meetings that they attended they often saw the celebrated Captain O'Rooney performing; but in all the numerous races he was engaged in, he never rode--at any rate in a steeple-chase--another DEAD HEAT.
ONLY THE MARE
When one opens a suspicious-looking envelope and finds something about ”Mr Shopley's respectful compliments” on the inside of the flap, the chances are that Mr Shopley is hungering for what we have Ovid's authority for terming _irritamenta malorum_. Not wis.h.i.+ng to have my appet.i.te for breakfast spoiled, I did not pursue my researches into a communication of this sort which was amongst my letters on a certain morning in November; but turned over the pile until the familiar caligraphy of Bertie Peyton caught my eye: for Bertie was Nellie's brother, and Nellie Peyton, it had been decided, would shortly cease to be Nellie Peyton; a transformation for which I was the person chiefly responsible. Bertie's communication was therefore seized with avidity.
It ran as follows:--
”The Lodge, Holmesdale.
”MY DEAR CHARLIE,
”I sincerely hope that you have no important engagements just at present, as I want you down here most particularly.
”You know that there was a small race-meeting at Bibury the other day. I rode over on Little Lady, and found a lot of the 14th Dragoons there; that conceited young person Blankney amongst the number. Now, although Blankley has a very considerable personal knowledge of the habits and manners of the a.s.s, he doesn't know much about the horse; and for that reason he saw fit to read us a lecture on breeding and training, pointing his moral and adorning his tale with a reference to my mare--whose pedigree, you know, is above suspicion. After, however, he had kindly informed us what a thoroughbred horse ought to be, he looked at Little Lady and said, 'Now I shouldn't think that thing was thoroughbred!' It ended by my matching her against that great raw-boned chestnut of his: three and a half miles over the steeplechase course, to be run at the Holmesdale Meeting, on the 5th December.
”As you may guess, I didn't want to win or lose a lot of money, and when he asked what the match should be for, I suggested '20 a-side.' 'Hardly worth while making a fuss for 20!' he said, rather sneeringly. '120, if you like!' I answered, rather angrily, hardly meaning what I said; but he pounced on the offer. Of course I couldn't retract, and so very stupidly, I plunged deeper into the mire, and made several bets with the fellows who were round us.
They laid me 3 to 1 against the mare, but I stand to lose nearly 500.
”You see now what I want. I ride quite 12 stone, as you know; the mare is to carry 11 stone, and you can just manage that nicely. I know you'll come if you can, and if you telegraph I'll meet you.
”Your's ever,
BERTIE PEYTON.
”P.S.--Nellie sends love, and hopes to see you soon. No one is here, but the aunt is coming shortly.”
I was naturally anxious to oblige him, and luckily had nothing to keep me in town; so that afternoon saw me rapidly speeding southwards, and the evening, comfortably domiciled at The Lodge.
Bertie, who resided there with his sister, was not a rich man. 500 was a good deal more than he could afford to lose, and poor little Nellie was in a great flutter of anxiety and excitement in consequence of her brother's rashness. As for the mare, she could gallop and jump; and though we had no means of ascertaining the abilities of Blankney's chestnut, we had sufficient faith in our Little Lady to enable us to ”come up to the scratch smiling;” and great hopes that we should be enabled to laugh at the result in strict accordance with the permission given in the old adage, ”Let those laugh who win.”
It was not very pleasant to rise at an abnormal hour every morning, and arrayed in great-coats and comforters sufficient for six people, to rush rapidly about the country; but it was necessary. I was a little too heavy, and we could not afford to throw away any weight, nor did I wish to have my saddle reduced to the size of a cheese-plate, as would have been my fate had I been unable to reduce myself. Breakfast, presided over by Nellie, compensated for all matutinal discomforts; and then she came round to the stables to give the mare an encouraging pat and a few words of advice and endearment which I verily believe the gallant little mare understood, for it rubbed its nose against her shoulder as though it would say, ”Just you leave it in my hands--or, rather, to my feet--and I'll make it all right!” Then we started for our gallop, Bertie riding a steady old iron-grey hunter.
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