Truly it is a great day for "The Terror," hitherto known as
"Four-legs," and well he knows it.
Behold him as he stands, with his velvet muzzle upon old Martin's
shoulder, the while the under-grooms, his two-legged slaves, hover
solicitously about him! Behold the proud arch of his powerful neck,
the knowing gleam of his rolling eye, the satiny sheen of his velvet
coat! See how he flings up his shapely head to snuff the balmy air of
morning, the while he paws the green earth with a round, bepolished
hoof.
Yes, indeed, it is a great day for "The Terror," and well he knows it.
"He looks very well, Martin!" says Barnabas.
"And 'e's better than 'e looks, sir!" nods Martin. "And they're
laying thirty to one ag'in you, sir!"
"So much, Martin?"
"Ah, but it'll be backed down a bit afore you get to the post, I
reckon, so I got my fifty guineas down on you a good hour ago."
"Why, Martin, do you mean you actually backed me--to win--for fifty
guineas?"
"Why, y'see sir," said Martin apologetically, "fifty guineas is all
I've got, sir!"
Now at this moment, Barnabas became aware of a very shiny glazed hat,
which bobbed along, among other hats of all sorts and shapes, now
hidden, now rising again--very like a cock-boat in a heavy sea; and,
presently, sure enough, the Bo'sun hove into view, and bringing
himself to an anchor, made a leg, touched the brim of his hat, and
gripped the hand Barnabas extended.
"Mr. Beverley, sir," said he, "I first of all begs leave to say as,
arter Master Horatio his Lordship, it's you as I'd be j'yful to see
come into port first, or--as you might say--win this 'ere race.
Therefore and wherefore I have laid five guineas on you, sir, by
reason o' you being you, and the odds so long. Secondly, sir, I were
to give you this here, sir, naming no names, but she says as you'd
understand."
Hereupon the Bo'sun took off the glazed hat, inserted a hairy paw,
and brought forth a single, red rose.
So Barnabas took the rose, and bowed his head above it, and
straightway forgot the throng and bustle about him, and all things
else, yea even the great race itself until, feeling a touch upon his
arm, he turned to find the Earl of Bamborough beside him.
"He is very pale, Mr. Beverley!" said his Lordship, and, glancing
whither he looked, Barnabas saw the Viscount who was already mounted
upon his bay horse "Moonraker."
"Can you tell me, sir," pursued the Earl, "how serious his hurt
really is?"
"I know that he was shot, my Lord," Barnabas answered, "and that he
received a violent blow upon his wounded arm this morning, but he is
very reticent."