Part 33 (2/2)
There was a roar from across the course, followed by a moment's breathless silence. The clamour of voices from Tattersall's subsided, and in its place rose the buzz of excitement from the stands, the murmur of many voices gradually growing in volume. Far away down the straight Ernestine and Trent, leaning over the rail, could see the little coloured specks come dancing into sight. The roar of voices once more beat upon the air.
”Nero the Second wins!”
”The favourite's done!”
”Nero the Second for a monkey!”
”Nero the Second romps in!”
”Iris! Iris! Iris wins!”
It was evident from the last shout and the gathering storm of excitement that, after all, it was to be a race. They were well in sight now; Nero the Second and Iris, racing neck-and-neck, drawing rapidly away from the others. The air shook with the sound of hoa.r.s.e and fiercely excited voices.
”Nero the Second wins!”
”Iris wins!”
Neck-and-neck they pa.s.sed the post. So it seemed at least to Ernestine and many others, but Trent shook his head and looked at her with a smile.
”Iris was beaten by a short neck,” he said. ”Good thing you didn't back her. That's a fine horse of the Prince's, though!”
”I'm so sorry,” she cried. ”Are you sure?”
He nodded and pointed to the numbers which were going up. She flashed a sudden look upon him which more than compensated him for his defeat.
At least he had earned her respect that day, as a man who knew how to accept defeat gracefully. They walked slowly up the paddock and stood on the edge of the crowd, whilst a great person went out to meet his horse amidst a storm of cheering. It chanced that he caught sight of Trent on the way, and, pausing for a moment, he held out his hand.
”Your horse made a magnificent fight for it, Mr. Trent,” he said. ”I'm afraid I only got the verdict by a fluke. Another time may you be the fortunate one!”
Trent answered him simply, but without awkwardness. Then his horse came in and he held out his hand to the crestfallen jockey, whilst with his left he patted Iris's head.
”Never mind, d.i.c.k,” he said cheerfully, ”you rode a fine race and the best horse won. Better luck next time.”
Several people approached Trent, but he turned away at once to Ernestine.
”You will let me take you to Lady Tresham now,” he said.
”If you please,” she answered quietly.
They left the paddock by the underground way. When they emerged upon the lawn the band was playing and crowds of people were strolling about under the trees.
”The boxes,” Trent suggested, ”must be very hot now!”
He turned down a side-walk away from the stand towards an empty seat under an elm-tree, and, after a moment's scarcely perceptible hesitation, she followed his lead. He laughed softly to himself. If this was defeat, what in the world was better?
”This is your first Ascot, is it not?” she asked.
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