“T O keep a light but steady hand on him; to be careful not to pull at him or check him with the curb; but to saw his mouth with the snaffle, if he can’t be held without; never to hit him, upon any consideration, by reason that he’ll stand the spur, but not the whip; to be prepared for his knocking my brains out when he throws up his head, or breaking my back by a way he’s got with his hind-quarters when he flings up his heels; to look out for his pleasant little trick of jumping off the ground all four feet at once in a slantindicular direction, when anything surprises him; to let him take his leaps in his own fashion, or he’ll either rush at them or refuse them altogether; to jump on his back before he bites or kicks me, if I can possibly do so; and, above all, to show him, from first to last, that I’m not in the slightest degree afraid of him—I think these are the chief points to which I am advised to direct my attention in riding the fascinating quadruped on whom you have invested your capital,” observed Coverdale to Lord Alfred, as they cantered back to the race-ground.

“You shall not do it—you must not think of it!” rejoined Lord Alfred, hastily; “you’ll be thrown and killed, and Mrs. Coverdale will say it’s my doing. I could not bear it—it would drive me mad. Come, promise you’ll give it up!”

“Silly boy!” returned Coverdale, with a good-natured smile “tell me, would you give it up in my position?”

“Well, yes—no, perhaps I should not; but then you know the case would be a very different one.”

“Certainly it would,” returned Coverdale; “I am not the heir to an ancient peerage—the noble constitution of England would not suffer injury in one of its three notable estates, if my neck were broken; but I don’t see the necessity for pre-supposing any such sombre contingency—this is not the first time, by many, that I’ve galloped a queer horse across country. Why, man, from the day I was fourteen I’ve broken all my own hunters, and let me tell you, a hot-tempered four-year-old thorough-bred is rather an awkward customer to deal with. A timid old gentleman would find himself decidedly misplaced astride such a quadruped. But here we are. Now recollect, keep up a bold exterior, as the melodramatic gents paraphrase ‘never saying die.’ Back the Don as freely as if Tirrett was going to ride for you, and mention me as the illustrious gentleman-jockey you have secured as his substitute.”

Lord Alfred nodded assent, and they rejoined the group around the betting-ring, in the centre of which stood the gallant Milesian, Captain O’Brien, vociferating loudly in what he would himself have termed a thundering rage. The cause was soon discovered: Mr. Philip Tirrett had, five minutes before, made his appearance on the course, and coolly informed the captain not only that he was mistaken in supposing he intended to ride for him, but that he was going to perform the service for Captain Annesley, of Her Majesty’s Life Guards, upon his famous steeple-chaser Black Eagle, which, in his poor opinion, looked very like a winner. As Lord Alfred and Harry came up, the Honourable Billy Whipcord, who, so to speak, lived upon horseflesh, and having a tolerably heavy book on the race, was in a great state of agitation and excitement, exclaimed, “Here, Lord Alfred, what do you say to all this? there’s a squabble as to who Mr. Tirrett is to ride for. I thought you’d settled with him, long ago, to ride Don Pasquale?”

“Such was, no doubt, the understanding between us,” returned Lord Alfred, firmly; “nor had I reason to suspect that he meant not to fulfil his engagement, until I received a note some two hours ago, telling me that circumstances prevented him from riding for me. These circumstances I now, for the first time, conjecture to resolve themselves into the fact that he has been bribed by some one to ride for Captain Annesley.”

“Pray, my Lord, do you intend that remark to apply to me?” inquired Captain Annesley, who was a tall, handsome, fashionable-looking man, with black whiskers and moustaches.

“I intended the remark to apply to Mr. Tirrett,” was Lord Alfred’s reply; “he had engaged to ride for me; I believe he has been bribed to break that engagement, because I can imagine no other reason so likely to influence a person of his character; but it’s a matter of perfect indifference to me who may have bribed him, and as I am fortunate enough to have secured the services of a gentleman on whose honour I can rely, as well as upon his horsemanship, I care very little about the whole matter, and must leave you, gentlemen, to settle your differences without my interference.”

As he spoke he was turning to leave the spot, when Tirrett stepped before him and prevented him.

“Not so fast, my Lord,” he said, insolently; “I consider that you’ve insulted me by the terms in which you have just spoken, and I desire you to recall your words.”

An indignant refusal from Lord Alfred apparently exasperated the young blackleg beyond endurance, and raising his horsewhip threateningly, he advanced a step towards his opponent. As he did so, a heavy hand was pressed against his chest, effectually barring his farther progress, while a deep voice said sternly, “Stand back, sir! I should have thought you had been on the turf long enough to recognize a gentleman when you see him, and to know that such persons are not to be bullied, though they may be swindled. Let me give you a word of advice: you will have quite enough on your hands to get out of this morning’s work without some unpleasant exposÉ. Your associate, Captain O’Brien, seems inclined to be disagreeably communicative—don’t get yourself horsewhipped into the bargain!”

When Coverdale made the reference to O’Brien, Phil Tirrett turned pale, and gnawed his under lip in fruitless anger; but, as he concluded, he got up the steam sufficiently to inquire, with an insolent laugh, “Horsewhipped, eh?—who’s likely to do it, I should like to know?”

“I am,” was Coverdale’s quiet answer. Their eyes met—but Tirrett could not endure Harry’s steadfast gaze; so, favouring him with a most melodramatic scowl of hatred, he slunk away through the crowd. After much angry altercation, Captain O’Brien’s horse was withdrawn—other preliminaries of the race settled—and the time appointed for starting drew nigh, when Captain Annesley lounged up to Lord Alfred Courtland, and, twisting his moustaches, drawled out, “Haw! ar ’spose yur ’ware m’lord that—haw—tha’re all gentlemen riders?—eh! yur friend comes under that denomination, ’spose, haw?”

“When the officers of the ——th chose me as umpire about a disputed stroke at billiards, and I decided in favour of one Cornet Annesley, he did not object to the verdict on the score of my position,” returned Coverdale, with quiet self-possession; upon which the captain muttered—

“Hey, haw, Mr. Coverdale, aw think—arm sor davlish shortsighted—ar reely didn’t recognize yar—haw! beg par’n, reely,” and lounged off considerably discomposed.

After the ceremony of weighing the riders had been satisfactorily performed, and other preliminaries arranged, the bell rang for saddling, and Coverdale, flinging off his wrapper, and removing a pair of leggings which had effectually concealed his top-boots, appeared in full and appropriate racing costume, to Lord Alfred’s intense surprise.

“By Jove!” he exclaimed, as the blue silk racing shirt revealed its glories to his astonished optics—“by Jove! Coverdale, you really are one of the most wonderful fellows I ever came across; why, you were not aware two hours ago that there was a chance of your being required to ride this race, and yet you come togged out in as noble and appropriate garments as if you had been preparing for the last month—it is all a perfect mystery to me!”

“The mystery is easily explained,” returned Harry, laughing at his companion’s puzzled look. “When I left your rooms this morning, the idea of riding for you had already occurred to me; it so happened that I, when last in town, ordered a new pair of hunting breeches and boots of my tailor and boot-maker, which I knew would be ready for me to jump into; the tailor directed me to a masquerade warehouse, where I procured the racing shirt; and I purchased the wrapper and leggings ready made. In the carpet-bag I have a coat, which I could have put on at the stables, had Tirrett chosen, at the last moment, to keep his engagement with you: so you see there’s no magic in the business, after all.”

As he spoke, Don Pasquale, arching his neck, snorting, laying back his ears and pointing them forward alternately, rolling his eyes until the whites were plainly visible, and altogether showing symptoms of a temperament quite unlike that popularly attributed to the genus pet lamb, was led in by Dick and an attendant satellite, at the imminent risk of their respective lives and limbs. As the clothing was removed, Coverdale scrutinized him narrowly without speaking; at length he exclaimed—“He’s a devil, that there’s no mistaking; but he’s a splendid horse: if he’s sound, and it’s at all possible to screw him along, I’ll give you all the money you paid for him, and fifty pounds to the back of that, if you don’t like to part with him under.”

“My dear Coverdale, in that and everything else I shall be guided by your wishes,” was the reply. “I’d make you a free gift of him, and be glad to get rid of the brute, if it wasn’t for the money I owe.”

At this moment, the groom made a signal, to which Coverdale immediately attended.

“The longer he stays in this here crowd and bustle, the wilder and savager he’ll get, and the worser he’ll be to mount; so the sooner I sees yer honour in the saddle, the better I shall be pleased.”

“All serene, Dick,” returned Harry, cheerfully. “Wish me luck and keep your spirits up, Alfred, my boy!” he continued, shaking his companion’s hand heartily: then, with a nod to the groom, to announce his intention, he approached the horse leisurely, and watching his opportunity, waited until something had attracted the animal’s notice, and caused it to turn its head in an opposite direction; when, placing his foot quietly in the stirrup, he was firmly seated before Don Pasquale became aware of his intention, or had time to attempt any resistance. Slowly gathering up the reins, Coverdale desired Dick to “give him his head;” the first use he made of it being to place it between his fore legs with a jerk, which if his rider had not judiciously yielded to it, would have pulled the reins from his grasp But Don Pasquale had an object in thus lowering his haughty crest—namely, at the same time to fling up his heels, and eject the intruder who had dared so unceremoniously to usurp the seat of dominion on his august back, much as a stone is hurled from a sling. Harry, however, being prepared for any eccentricity of motion on the part of the amiable quadruped he bestrode, retained his seat in spite of the Don’s strenuous efforts to dislodge him; a performance which appeared to astonish and impress the creature to such a degree, that he tossed up his head so suddenly as to render Dick’s caution in regard to “knocking out brains” by no means a superfluous figure of speech, and abruptly started off in a kind of half-sidling, half-dancing canter. Having indulged the Don with a preliminary gallop up and down the first quarter of a mile of the course, during which he amused himself by occasionally lashing out in a way which soon obtained for him those popular desiderata—a clear course and no favour, Harry brought him back to the starting-post just as Phil Tirrett appeared, looking the perfection of a jockey, and mounted on a splendid black thorough-bred, which Coverdale conjectured must be—from its superiority to every other horse on the course—Captain Annesley’s Black Eagle. At this moment, Dick, the groom, handed Coverdale a leaf of a betting-book, crumpled up into the form of a note; seizing an opportunity when his horse was for an instant quiet, Harry opened it, and read the following words:—

“Hond sur, Black hegel’s wery prity to luke hat, but he han’t got the Don’s pluck, nor P. T. hun’t got yourn—hin ther last field but won ther’s a corner may be cut hoff by taking a dich with a low ston warl hon the bank abuv, and a rail atop—hits a properly dangrus leep, but if our ’orse is rode boldly and aint blowd, he’ll face hit and clear hit, hand B. E. and P. T. won’t.—Yr humbel survent, Dick Dodge.”

Hastily casting his eye over it, Harry caught the general meaning of the note, and, tearing it, he gave his confidential adviser a glance, which so clearly conveyed his recognition of the merits of his scheme, that Dick in soliloquy confided to himself, that he was at that moment open to be “blowed” if it was not his conviction that if Coverdale could keep his seat for the first five minutes, he might do the trick after all. As Harry rode up to the starting-post, Tirrett perceived, from his firm but easy seat in the saddle, his strong yet light hand on the rein, restraining without irritating his horse, that he had a first-rate rider to contend against; and knowing, as no one did so well as himself, the powers of the animal on which Coverdale was mounted, he, for the first time since he had refused to ride for Lord Alfred, felt anxious as to the result of the race, which, reckoning it completely secure, he had betted on much more largely than was his habit. After relieving his feelings by a muttered volley of oaths, he continued mentally,—

“This is pleasant: the fellow sits his horse as composedly as if he were in an arm-chair! he seems to understand the temper of the brute too! I suppose Dick has put him up to that, in revenge for the blow I gave him. I’ve got a frightfully heavy book on the event—nearly £1000. I was a fool to risk it; and yet I thought the money was as safe as if it had been in my pocket. I never expected the horse would have trained sound as he has; if I’d been sure of that I would have ridden him myself. Well, the race must be won at all hazards; if the Don would but get into one of his tantarums now, nobody that didn’t know his ways could sit him. Ha; yes, a good idea; I think it maybe done that way—and yet it’s hazardous—but I won’t be rash—only Black Eagle must not lose, whatever may be the consequence.” While such thoughts as these were passing hurriedly through his brain, the signal was given, and the horses started.