The course was now looking its best. Long lines of glittering motors and smart carriages had joined their humbler brethren of traps and omnibuses. The seats and stands were filled with gaily-dressed people; women in their furs, velvets and exquisite hats, giving the impression from a distance of a huge living flower garden.

On the appearance of Adrien Leroy, the excitement reached its height, for he was known to everybody by name and sight, and was, moreover, the owner of the favourite.

The carriage containing Lord Barminster had been drawn up as near the course as possible, and as far from the crowd as s.p.a.ce would permit; for his lordship invariably refused to mix with any concourse of people, even when they consisted of his own order.

Adrien, having seen that he was comfortable, escorted the ladies down to their seats on the grand stand; then he betook himself to the paddock, where "King Cole" had just been saddled.

At the sound of the loved voice the beautiful animal turned his head, with a whinny of delight. Then, as the two people he disliked with every fibre of his being approached him--Jasper Vermont and Peac.o.c.k, the jockey--he laid his ears back with every appearance of alarm and distrust. It seemed as if his animal instincts were keener than those of his master.

Leroy stroked the soft nose of the race-horse, while Jasper pa.s.sed his hand admiringly over the satiny neck.

"Beautiful as a daisy," he exclaimed, and as Mr. Vermont would hardly have recognised that humble flower if he had seen it, this was rather qualified praise.

"Too long in the leg," murmured a man whom Jasper had previously introduced as a sporting friend of his.

Adrien turned round and surveyed the speaker calmly for a moment.

"Too leggy, you think, do you? I'll lay two to one upon them."

"Done," said the man sharply. "Hundreds or thousands?"

"Thousands," said Adrien quietly.

Jasper touched him on the arm and whispered, in gentle remonstrance:

"Steady, old chap, there's pots of money on him as it is. Don't you think it would be as well--"

"Make it thousands," interrupted Adrien, almost haughtily, as he turned on his heel.

The man booked the bet, bowed to Vermont, as to an utter stranger, and the two gentlemen pa.s.sed to the weighing-seat. Peac.o.c.k had already gone to don his riding-clothes, and without waiting to see him again, Adrien and his companion returned to the grand stand. Here Leroy stopped to speak to Lady Merivale, who, with her sister, the Marchioness of Caine, had motored down from London to witness the race.

The marchioness was a lady with a pa.s.sion for bridge, and an intense admiration for Adrien Leroy.

"You are quite sure your horse, that pretty creature with the long neck, is going to win?" she inquired, as he stood by her chair.

Her sister, Lady Merivale, looked up mockingly.

"Of course he's going to win, Alicia. Did not Lady Constance Tremaine say so? Surely _she_ ought to know!"

Leroy did not appear to notice the jealous sarcasm of this speech.

"I hope he will win," he said gravely. "Nothing is certain in this world, and race-horses are said to be as fickle as your s.e.x, dear lady."

This was a mild thrust at Lady Merivale; but she only smiled sweetly in response. "Still, I think you may safely bet on the 'King'; he's in fine form." Then he turned to his cousin. "Here is your beau cavalier, Constance," he said, almost jealously, as Jasper Vermont came leisurely up the steps of the grand stand; then, with a swift glance at the girl which was not lost upon Lady Merivale, he went down once more to his father.

"The bell is about to ring now," he said. "Are you sure you can see?"

"Quite sure," replied Lord Barminster curtly. "How is the horse?"

"In splendid form, sir," Adrien answered cheerfully. "I should think it is a safe thing. If you are quite all right, I'll get back to the others now, before the crush begins."

His father nodded, and the young man made his way back to the stand.

Here he found the Castle guests already seated. Harsh cries from the betting-ring still ascended at intervals, though the majority of the vast crowd had settled down to watch the race. With a thrill of pleasure, Adrien saw that Lady Constance had kept a seat vacant for him beside herself; and with a light word to Lady Merivale as he pa.s.sed, he took his place, and unstrapping the heavy field-gla.s.ses, arranged them to Lady Constance's liking.

"Can you see all right?" he asked.

"Beautifully," she replied, as she tried them. "What excitement they are all in," she added, as she surveyed the seething crowd.

Adrien smiled, pleased because she was pleased; for himself, except that he wished his horse to win in order that it should gain fresh laurels, he had no interest in the affair. Certainly he never gave a thought to the fearful amount of money involved.

Then, amid a murmur of excitement, the starting-gate went up, and the horses were off. For a while "Miracour" led; "Bluebell" running close beside him; the "King" striding along in cool, quiet canter that covered the miles at greater speed than the little mare could hope to maintain.

"There goes the 'King'!" exclaimed Lady Caine, almost rising from her seat in her excitement. "Oh, I do hope he will win don't you, Mr.

Vermont?"

Jasper smiled.

"I do, indeed," he said, while his little steely eyes rested upon the shrivelled figure of Peac.o.c.k, the jockey, with a keen, cold scrutiny.

Meanwhile the horses pounded away over the course, still in the same order. "Miracour" leading, "Bluebell" falling behind, and the "King"

creeping up easily to the second place.

The first fence placed nearly half the horses out of the running; the next threw out two more, though the "King" cleared it in his stride, so close in the wake of his rival that a speck of white foam flecked the haunches of the leader.

Adrien nodded approvingly.

"That fellow knows how to ride," he said. "If he keeps the 'King' like that, the race is ours."

"Oh yes," agreed Vermont, smiling grimly; "he understands him, evidently. It is to be hoped he keeps him cool till the spurt comes."

"Which will be after the last jump," put in Lord Standon, as he shifted his field-gla.s.ses.

"Exactly," purred Jasper.

Hedge after hedge was cleared, and still "Miracour" was leading; but it was evident that the high blood of the "King" was burning to get away, and that his jockey was playing a waiting game.

It was at the stream that the strain began to tell. "Bluebell," the Irish mare, had struggled on gamely; but at the last she refused to leap, she stopped short, and her jockey was pitched forward into the water.

A laugh arose even in the midst of the excitement; but it was speedily drowned in the cries of "The 'King' wins. No! No!

'Miracour!'--'Vicket'--beats. No! No! the 'King'--the 'King's' got away!"

They were right, for Peac.o.c.k had thought it wisest to put the spurt on already, and the "King," with every fibre stretched to its utmost, had darted ahead. "Miracour" caught up again, and side by side they raced over the level flat, cheered and shouted at by the frantic crowd.

A roar like that of the sea broke forth as the two animals neared the last obstacle, a great hedge filled with thorn, and like a miniature mountain. Neck and neck they seemed to be, when suddenly the "King"

darted forward, and, amid terrific shouts of astonishment, took the leap too short, fell sideways, and pitched his jockey into the short scrub, a dozen feet away.

"Miracour" rose for the leap, and clearing it, cantered in the winner by sixty lengths.

For a moment there was tense silence, broken by a roar of surprise, rage and disappointment, as the crowd broke away and swarmed over the course to the spot where the jockey still lay. A murmur of horror had also gone throughout the length of the grand stand; but whether of disappointment, or at the fall of the rider, it was hard to say.