CHAPTER VI.

A HEAD DEFEAT; AN ATTEMPT TO WIN THE CAMBRIDGESHIRE.

_The great trial--the lightweight apportioned by the Admiral--the heavy commission successfully worked--newspaper reports about the horse--his short price in the betting--the sudden unaccountable opposition to him--a young lady discloses the plot--the Jew outwitted, and obliged to give up the scratching order--standing to win a fortune to nothing--a very reliable partner._

No, my inquisitive friend, a pair of blue eyes did not occasion the difficulty; on the contrary, my partner and myself would have been ruined if a certain young lady had not given information which enabled me to circumvent the schemes of the enemy, who, I may tell you, was a Jew. The circumstances caused a sensation at the time, and a number of the men who overlaid their books in the belief that the horse would never go to the post would not have "weighed in" for that, to me, memorable Cambridgeshire, provided we had run first instead of second.

It all came about in this way.

Picture to yourself two men seated, after dinner, in an old-fashioned hotel of quaint, sleepy Hampshire town. The elder of the two was my partner, and the other your humble servant. We were anxiously waiting the arrival of a telegram of the utmost importance to us. If favourable, an immense fortune was within our grasp.

This message was to contain the weight of a horse for the Cambridgeshire. In the morning we had roughed up the team, and a four-year-old had opened our eyes to his merits by simply cantering away from some good trying tackle. For many years we had vainly striven to pull off a large race, but mishaps were sure to crop up at the wrong time. It now depended upon the judgment of Admiral Rous whether we were going to land the big stake at last.

To pass the time we amused ourselves by writing the horse's probable weight on slips of paper--which were to be kept folded up till the telegram came--and betting about them. Instead of arriving at the hour expected, the message was very late; it had been delayed owing to a disarrangement of the wires, caused by a thunderstorm. When the all-important missive did reach us we were more than satisfied. The four-year-old was weighted at 6st. 7lb. If I mistake not, we drank long life to the Admiral in an extra bottle of Irroy. Fortune's wheel was, we thought, about to turn in our favour, and our long suffering patience was at length to be rewarded. One of us talked philosophically, as if he had foreseen this splendid chance, and, shaking his head with an air of wisdom, muttered: "I told you so; everything comes to the man who waits."

It was, however, a long time to Cambridgeshire day, but that weighty consideration, the impost, was all right. The horse must now be carefully looked after, and got to the post fit and well. As regards the betting, we arranged to secure all the long prices, 100 and 66 to 1, without being suspected, and had an arrangement how much we were each to stand to win. As may be easily imagined, we had pleasant dreams that night of gorgeous establishments and endless parcels of Bank of England notes.

You never knew my partner. All this happened before your time. He belonged to a good family, and was an excellent boon companion. A mutual friend first made us known to each other at one of the Newmarket meetings. He wanted to get a confederate to join him in forming a small stud; and, after a deal of correspondence it was at length decided to enter into partnership and try for a large handicap. As most money could be made over the Cambridgeshire, we selected that race. Our attempts previous to the trial of Santorin had been, as stated already, utter failures. When I signed the deed of agreement I did not know that my partner was in a very embarrassed position in regard to money, and was in the hands of the Jews. He ought to have explained this to me. He was a good enough fellow, but he had a serious failing--the slightest obstacle in his way he was bound to refuse, he would not face a difficulty. If I had been informed of his circumstances I would assuredly have steered clear of the entanglement, and there would be no story to relate to you.

A woman plays a part in this narrative of fact. A member of that sex usually has something to do with most mundane affairs. My partner was married, and had several young children. For the purposes of education a niece lived with the family and acted as governess. It was the niece who revealed the plot and saved us from ruin.

A charming, refined girl was the niece--Elizabeth Emerson--alas! now dead. You think I am prejudiced; judge for yourself--her photograph is before me. As I open the album sad thoughts arise in my mind of joys departed, of friends and sweethearts estranged or "gone before." Miss Emerson had a beautifully formed head, resembling that of Clytie, whose bust I presented to her for her own little sitting-room. Her head was crowned with a luxuriance of brown hair, wayward locks of which would persist in straying from their proper position as if they wished to be caressed; forehead not too high, not that of a strong-minded woman--only the head of a pretty girl, and partly hidden by the hair as in the bust mentioned. Her eyes were peculiar--they were so large and luminous, and had that almond shape so much admired. The nose was not severely classical, but it was all but straight. The lips were not too thin, the mouth was exceedingly small, she had the whitest of little teeth, the tiniest of shell-like ears, and a rose-tint complexion, betokening health. Need I add that when her feet were visible they were in keeping with the features of the girl who was at this period just budding into womanhood, and who, although diminutive in stature, was magnificently proportioned--a model for a sculptor.

Fond of amusement, she was anything but fast; underlying her careless, laughing, satirical manner, there existed sound sense, a great respect for other people's feelings and one of the finest natures man could wish for in a wife.

But I must proceed with my story. The Cambridgeshire was nigh at hand, and Santorin had gone on well--had not been sick nor sorry a single day, the commission had been worked to our entire satisfaction, and an excellent jockey--now at the head of his profession--retained to ride the horse. The largeness of the commission, coupled with the lenient weight began to attract public notice to Santorin. Touts, amateur and the reverse, arrived to watch his movements and despatch their reports daily to employers and friends. One of the best judges on the turf paid our training ground a visit on behalf of the journal he represented, and wrote thus about the horse:--"Santorin is a brown horse, with black points, standing quite 15 hands 3 inches high, with splendid fore-quarters, and in galloping he places his hind legs well under him, showing all that hare-like action so admirably adapted to get him up the somewhat severe Cambridgeshire hill. No exception can be taken to his sire or dam--a combination of endurance and speed. At the weight he is a very dangerous competitor, and if I couple him with Hymet and Keffesia, I think I have named the winner."

The horse soon made a noise in the betting, and when the Cesarewitch was decided as little as 8 to 1 was taken about him.

Our commission averaged 40 to 1, and we stood to win between us nearly £80,000.

It was within a week of the race, when to my utter astonishment I received one day innumerable telegrams from friends asking me what was the matter with Santorin. The messages all contained the same intelligence, that certain bookmakers at the Wellington Club had been taking liberties with him and had driven him back to 16 to 1.

This antagonistic movement I could not understand, as a letter from the trainer had reached me only that morning stating that the horse was in excellent health, and a telegram would at once have been sent to me if there had been an accident. I put the movement down to a clique, who had overlaid and were desirous of making themselves safe.

Next day the horse was brought to his former position in the quotations, when it was seen from the sporting journals that he had done his usual work on the previous day, but just before three o'clock the opposition commenced again with renewed vigour, and this time he receded to 20 to 1.

At that period my partner and I both lived in the country, but I was nearest to the place where Santorin was trained. On the following day I hastened to have a look at the horse, and endeavoured to get some explanation from the trainer. I saw the horse stripped and witnessed him gallop, but could find nothing wrong with him, his eyes shining like diamonds, his coat as bright as satin, and his every step showing perfect health. The trainer, a most painstaking, trustworthy man, said the betting was incomprehensible, and he could make nothing of it, but it had made him extra careful with the lads.

In order to get some clue to this affair, I asked a friend at the club to send me the names of the men who were operating against the horse, and was alarmed to find that it was some of the largest bookmakers who had led the opposition. There was no time to lose, as the day was fast approaching.

The mystery I determined to solve, and with that view I went, post haste, to my partner, who, strange to say, had not troubled himself about the horse's retrogression in the betting. I had not seen him for a few weeks. When we last parted he seemed in good health and capital spirits, but he now looked as miserable as a sick dog, and had scarcely any life in him. In so short a period I never beheld such an alteration in any man. What is the matter here?--another mystery, I thought. And I wondered if there was any connection between the opposition at the club and the great change in my partner!

I related to him everything in connection with the affair, and plied him with questions, but his invariable answer was, "I cannot make it out!"

I was anything but satisfied, as his failure to send inquiries about the horse was suspicious. Going into the garden to get a blow of fresh air and collect my ideas, I met Miss Emerson, who seemed by her manner to be expecting me.

"This is very strange about Santorin," she said, at once commencing the conversation.

"It is unaccountable," I replied. "And what makes it worse, your uncle is in such a wretched state of health. Not having heard of his illness, I was greatly surprised at his changed appearance."

"Is not worry sometimes worse than illness?" she continued.

"I have no doubt of it, Miss Emerson," I replied. "But Mr. Marston is not in any grave difficulty, I hope?"

She made no answer to this, but startled me by asking the following question:

"Tell me," she said, "would one be justified if, for the purpose of preventing a great wrong, and upsetting a wicked design, one were to betray a secret?"

"What do you mean, Miss Emerson? Without learning more, I scarcely know how to answer you."

"Then come back here in half an hour and I may be able to tell you something of great importance!" she said, and then ran into the house.

This short conversation stunned me. I wondered whether the mystery surrounding Santorin would now be cleared up! The suspense, although of short duration, was exceedingly painful. At last the much-wished-for figure advanced across the lawn.

"I have consulted my aunt," she said hurriedly, scarcely able to speak with excitement, "and she agrees with me that you, who have been so kind to us all, should be instantly informed that there is something seriously wrong going on in this house, and it affects you as well as my uncle!"

"Yon don't mean to tell me so, Miss Emerson?" I replied, with some anxiety.

"It is so," she continued, still somewhat excited. "And from what I have heard, it is about Santorin!"

"You do surprise and astonish me!" Miss Emerson, I remarked, beginning to get warm. "But you will, I trust, tell me what you have heard? What was it? You will surely save me from ruin!"

Miss Emerson hesitated a moment, but seeing how anxious and excited I was becoming, she resumed:

"Well, Mr.----, my aunt and I have considered the matter over, and have come to the conclusion that there is a dark plot going on against this horse, and that it would be only just we should apprise you of it, and by doing so you would possibly be able to defeat the wicked designs of these men."

"How shall I convey my gratitude for such kindness, Miss Emerson?" I said, with emotion.

"There has been a very bad-looking Jewish man coming here very often latterly, and on the last occasion Mr. Marston and he had a terrible quarrel; and my aunt becoming greatly alarmed, requested me to go to the dining-room and see what was the matter. When I got close to the door I heard this strange-looking man speaking very loud and excitedly, and exclaiming, in a threatening tone of voice, 'You must give me an order to scratch the horse or be utterly ruined!'"

"Good heavens!" I exclaimed, "who would have thought of such base treachery!"

"Yes, and that from your partner!" said the young lady.

"Well, you have done me the greatest service, Miss Emerson," I gratefully observed, and, taking both her hands in mine, remarked that time would show how deeply and sincerely I would appreciate it.

A nice partner to be associated with! I here found the true reason for the opposition given to Santorin. The all-important question now was, had the order to scratch the horse been given? Unfortunately the nomination was in my partner's name. Every moment being precious, I immediately sought Mr. Marston, and taxed him with his duplicity.

When he saw that concealment was of no use, and that I was aware of everything, he confessed to a very pretty piece of business. A Jew, to whom he was heavily indebted, had compelled him to sign a letter to Messrs. Weatherby scratching Santorin!

Now the question arose, how to get out of the dilemma? In the then state of the market hedging was simply an impossibility. But I was not going to let the Jew beat us without a struggle, if I could help it. I wanted to save our Cambridgeshire money, if possible; and although the Jew had played on the weakness of my partner, I resolved on making some attempt at getting our money back.

My partner having told me the amount of the bill he owed the Jew, I now considered the best thing would be to endeavour to settle it, and finding I could do so, I desired him to telegraph to Abrahams, and request him to come down to his house the following morning, stating that a matter of the utmost importance required his presence; and when he arrived to ask him how much he was going to allow out of the laying commission? I also desired him to detain the gentleman till my return at luncheon time, if possible, as I intended in the meantime running up to London to procure the money.

When I got to town Santorin was quoted at 33 to 1 offered, and there was nothing about his scratching in the papers. So far good. I saw two men I could implicitly trust, and I arranged that they should be in waiting to attend to my telegrams next day.

In the morning I got the money required, and was back again at Marston's house before luncheon time. The Jew, who had duly arrived, did not seem at all delighted to see me. He evidently began to think that things looked queer.

"I have been asking Abrahams how much he is going to stand us out of his heavy laying commission," said Marston, "but he declares everything has been grossly mismanaged."

"It's the truth, really," answered the Jew; "a complete muddle. I am very sorry I took the affair at all, as I am almost certain to lose by it."

"Perhaps," I said as if in a joke, "you would prefer returning the scratching order and being paid Mr. Marston's debt."

"Would I not, if I had the chance," replied the Jew, taking the valuable slip of paper out of his pocket book.

This was exactly what I wanted. It was no good proposing to pay unless the Jew had the scratching order with him.

"Well, here is your money," I said, handing him the notes with one hand and taking possession of the order with the other. "We prefer to win the Cambridgeshire."

You never saw a man look so amazed as that Jew did in all your life. I went instantly to the window and nodded to a groom who had had his instructions, and he galloped away with my telegrams. No entreaty on our part would induce Abrahams to partake of luncheon. An important engagement in town prevented him. He had come down at great inconvenience to oblige Mr. Marston, and now he was anxious to get back to business. Would Mr. Marston send him to the station, a distance of five miles, in the dog cart? He was anxious to get back to stop the lay commissioners he had set to work. The dog cart was ordered round, but a strange thing happened--a wheel came off which delayed the impatient Abrahams some time. From the unpleasant way he looked at me, he appeared to think he owed the detention to me. When he did get to London Santorin was quoted in the evening papers at 6 to 1 taken and wanted, and it is highly probable that Abrahams went to his home in an unpleasant frame of mind.

A sporting journal of the next day said, in reference to the previous afternoon's betting: "There has evidently been nothing the matter with Santorin, as there was an unlimited commission in the market yesterday to back him. The training reports speak very favourably of the work he is doing from day-to-day, and his present condition; and those who, from some unexplained cause, have been taking liberties with the horse must be in an uncomfortable position. The getting out will be ruinous."

There is little more to tell--the Jew was outwitted, and has kept aloof from the turf ever since.

Santorin started for that year's Cambridgeshire at the shortest price ever known, and as the hedging was so good we stood to win a large fortune to nothing. It was excessively provoking to get beaten on the post by a head, by a horse two years older and carrying the same weight.

Thanks to Miss Emerson the difficulty was overcome, and if that young lady had not caught scarlet fever when attending to her cousins and died, she might be sitting opposite me now bearing another name, and I might be leading a more profitable life.

Mr. Marston behaved very badly, and I was justified after the Cambridgeshire in severing all business connections with such a very unreliable partner.