Poor old Hilt had also clapped his hands to his head, and looked for a moment as if his horrible fit of semi-delirium was returning and the drug he had taken about to resume its sway.

"Here--water!" he cried. "No--no, I think I understand. Here, Syd, my boy, is this all true?"

"Yes, uncle, it's true enough; and I'm proud of her."

"So am I, Syd--so am I. Hooray! Bless you, my boy! Bless you, too, my pretty little darling!" he cried, catching Molly in his arms and kissing her roundly again and again, while the pretty, childish-looking little thing clasped him round the neck, smiled in his face, and replied with a sharp, chirruping smack.

"Hilton!" cried Lady Lisle.

"But it's Syd's wife, my dear."

"Yes, my lady," cried the trainer, "and she's got her rights."

"Rights? Right," corrected Sir Hilton, taking Molly's hand, and tucking it under his arm, to drag her shivering before the fierce-looking sharer of his joys.

"Can't you see, my dear, that it's all right? Now then, tell the poor little girl that you're ashamed of what you said."

Lady Lisle drew herself up, and seemed to be swallowing something that forced its way into her throat. Then, coldly--

"Yes," she said, "I retract everything that I said--to--Syd's--Oh, the horror of it!" she gasped. "Syd's wife. But as for you, sir--yes, I wronged you, too, by those terrible thoughts; but all is at an end between us."

"Eh?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Sir Hilton.

"All is at an end between us. Never can I take the hand of man again who could stoop to playing the part of a common jockey."

"But it was for the best, my dear."

"Yes, Lady Lisle," cried Lady Tilborough, "and to save two very old friends from ruin and despair."

"Yes, Lady Lisle; that is a fact," cried Granton.

"Possibly," said Lady Lisle, coldly.

"And I'll never do so any more, Laura."

"Perhaps not," said the lady, half-hysterically, for something was dragging her hard in her heaving bosom; "but I cannot trust the word of a man who has degraded himself as you did with drink."

"Haw, haw, haw!" cried Dandy Dinny, in his most raucous tones.

"You hold your row," said Mark, giving his prisoner a shake.

"Shee--ahn't!" growled the man.

"Ah, Mr Trimmer, you are there," cried Lady Lisle, as the door opened and the agent, looking pale, but particularly neat in his dark Oxford mixture suit and white, much-starched cravat, entered, to look wonderingly round at the strange scene, and wince as he caught the trainer's eyes; but Lady Lisle's look fascinated him, and he could not retreat.

"Yes, my lady," he said in his blandest tones. "I heard the noise of breaking gla.s.s, and I hurriedly dressed and came down."

"Come here. I want your a.s.sistance badly. I am glad to have someone in whom I can place trust."

She took a step towards the agent, and raised her hand as if to place it upon Trimmer's arm, and her lips parted to ask him to lead her from the room, when Dandy Dinny shouted coa.r.s.ely to Trimmer--

"What, my lovely Methody P.! How much did you lose on the race?"

"Lose--race?" cried Lady Lisle, shrinking away, with white circles seeming to form round her dark, dilating eyes. "Surely, Mr Trimmer, _you_ were not there?"

"Why, of course he was, auntie," cried Syd. "I saw the old humbug twice."

"What!" half shrieked Lady Lisle, "is there no one in whom I can trust?"

"Yes, my lady," cried the tout, harshly. "You trust to me, and buy that little white dawg--no, I'll make yer a present of it, if you'll cry quits about me being here. No, you don't, Marky; I'm going to speak.

I'm a-going to give her ladyship the right tip, and my tips are the real square right 'uns."

There was a bit of a struggle, which was checked by Sir Hilton, who, as if inspired by his thoughts, interfered.

"Yes, my dear," he said; "hear what the man says."

"Right you are, Sir Rilton. You always was a gent as I respected. Look here, my lady, don't you be so hard on a gent as likes to go in for a bit of the real true old English sport. I know, my lady--yes, I've jest done, and then I'll put on my boots. p.r.i.c.ked my foot, I did, with that there spiky plahnt. Here, don't you think anything o' that drop o' fizz he had. Sir Rilton didn't have enough to make him tight."

"No--on my soul I didn't, Laura," cried Sir Hilton. "The man's right."

"Right I am, Sir Rilton," cried the tout. "No, you don't, my white-chokered herb!" he shouted, making a dash at Trimmer, who was quietly making for the door. "Got him! You, Mark Willows, you collar old Sam Simpkins. He's t'other customer in that little game."

"Here, what do you mean, sir?" said Sir Hilton, sternly.

"Mean, Sir Rilton--mean, Lady Lisle, and my Lady Tilborough--and Heaven bless my lady and the n.o.ble man of your chice--why, I mean this, as I see with these here eyes, going about and in and out selling my c'rect cards, all the starters, anceterer--No, you don't; down you goes on your marrow-bones and makes confession to the lot."

The tout had tightly hold of Trimmer's collar as he spoke, and now, by a clever kick, he sent his legs from under him and pressed him down upon his knees, shivering, helpless, and whiter than ever.

"Now, my lady--now, all of you, here's the real true tip: Sir Rilton here warn't tight. He was hocussed with a dose o' powder, so as he shouldn't be able to ride La Sylphidey, and them's the two as done it.

That's my tip."

"A lie! You scoundrel! A lie!"

"I don't understand him," panted Lady Lisle.

"Hocussed him instead of the horse, my lady," said the trainer, coolly.

"You see, I couldn't get at the mare to save myself from a heavy pull.

Yes, my lady; yes, doctor, I mixed the dose, and I can a.s.sure you, Sir Hilton, that cham was real good."

"But oh, daddy," cried poor Molly, bursting into tears, "don't say you did a thing like that!"

"'Bliged to, my gal; but I should never ha' thought on it if it had not been for that smooth-tongued Trimmer. There, Sir Hilton. I'm very sorry, but I throw up the sponge."

"Now, Laura," cried Sir Hilton; "can't you forgive me now?"

L'ENVOI.