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ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
^ft. 
 
 -"^B^ls.^ 
 
 f 
 
 4v. 
 
 
ANNALS OF 
 
 THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 BY 
 
 FINCH MASON 
 
 AUTHOR OF 'the TAME FOX,' ' MAD LORRIMER,' ETC. 
 
 WITH FIVE ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE AUTHOR 
 
 LONDON 
 
 CHAT TO & WIND US 
 
 1902 
 
 * 
 
R 
 V£fi 
 
TO 
 
 GEORGE P. B. FORES, ESQ., 
 
 WHO WAS THE FIRST TO ENCOURAGE HIM IN DELINEATING 
 
 SPORTING SUBJECTS WITH PEN AS WELL AS PENCIL, 
 
 THIS VOLUME IS DEDICATED, WITH A FEELING 
 
 OF GRATITUDE HE POSSIBLY DOES NOT 
 
 GIVE HIM CREDIT FOR, BY HIS 
 
 OLD FRIEND, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 INTRODUCTION - - - - - 1 
 
 HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY - - - 6 
 
 A SELF-CREATED PEER - - - -56 
 
 A TERRIBLE NIGHT - - - - - 75 
 
 THE BITER BIT - - - - - 94 
 
 JUST IN TIME - - - - - 114 
 
 CAUGHT IN THE TOILS - - - 147 
 
 A woman's REVENGE - - - - l65 
 
 THE LOTTERY TICKET - - - - 186 
 
 A RACE FOR A WIFE - - - - 207 
 
 BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON _ _ _ 221 
 
 AN APRIL FOOL - - - - 234 
 
 A HOLIDAY ADVENTURE _ _ _ _ 245 
 
 ONE HUNDRED POUNDS REWARD - _ _ 258 
 
 ALL FOR THEM - _ - _ _ 274 
 
 A LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR - - - 291 
 
 MISS MOSETTA _____ S06 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 ' BEEFEATER WINS !' - - - Frontispiece 
 
 A VERY FAST THING FROM BLESSINGTON 
 
 GORSE . _ - To face p. I69 
 
 UP THEY ROSE AT THE HURDLES - - „ 175 
 
 'MY TEAR, I don't THINK THE 'oRSE VILL 
 
 vin' - - - - „ 201 
 
 how i flogged him i - - - « 244 
 
ANNALS OF 
 THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 ^ INTRODUCTION 
 
 I AM by nature fond of variety in any shape or form. 
 It is my nature to, as Dr. AVatts says. Therefore the 
 reader will not be astonished to hear that in my 
 favourite pursuit of fox-hunting the term ' ubiquitous ' 
 might (as it undoubtedly is) well be applied to me. 
 
 I make it, indeed, a practice, year after year, to 
 betake myself and my horses to different quarters for 
 the hunting season. For instance, one year I am to 
 be found disporting myself with the Cheshire ; the 
 next, as likely as not, with the Cottesmore. Anon, I 
 give Yorkshire a benefit, and am to be seen with the 
 Bedale and the Bramham Moor. The following season 
 in all probability, my man will receive his 'marching 
 orders ' for Bicester or Bletchley. In fact, as my 
 friends very justly observe, ' They never know where to 
 have me.'' 
 
 ' Well, good-bye, Tommy,' I overheard another pad 
 groom say to my own trusty henchman, as he bade him 
 
 1 
 
2 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 farewell at the end of one hunting season — ' good-bye, 
 old feller, I suppose with that there shifty guv'nor of 
 yours you don't know where you and the 'osses '11 be 
 next November.' 
 
 ' Not a notion,' was the reply. ' I did 'ear some talk 
 about Ireland, but I shouldn't wonder, between you 
 and me, if it wasn't the Vale of Aylesbury after all. 
 Now I come to think of it, we ain't been there since we 
 was up at the 'Varsity.' 
 
 In strict accordance, therefore, with my variable 
 character, a year or two ago found me, together with 
 sundry other jovial bachelor sportsmen, located at 
 that very comfortable old-fashioned hotel and posting- 
 house, to wit, the Crown, at Barleyford, for the ex- 
 press purpose of hunting with that justly celebrated 
 pack, the ' V.H.H.,' otherwise the Vale of Hog wash 
 Hounds. 
 
 Well, soon after Christmas there arrived, one fine 
 night, that inveterate enemy to fox-hunting, Mr. John 
 — or, to speak of him by his best known title, Mr. 
 Jack Frost. His unwelcome appearance was promptly 
 made the excuse by my companions for a run up to 
 town to see the pantomimes, and, as they facetiously 
 put it, to have their hair cut. ' Of course,' said they, 
 ' you'll come too, eh, old chappie .^' 
 
 They were wrong, however, for once in a way, for the 
 old chappie had already made up his mind to do nothing 
 of the kind. 
 
 I determined, in fact, at the risk of appearing 
 churlish, to remain where I was. For, thought I to 
 myself, the frost probably won't last more than a fort- 
 night at the very outside, probably not that ; and 
 
IxNTRODUCTION S 
 
 what will happen if I go to town with my volatile 
 friends ? Why, I shall be dining at my club, stewing 
 in hot theatres, participating in lively little supper- 
 parties, and generally turning night into day, and, 
 finally, when the frost breaks up, shall find myself back 
 here, entirely out of condition, and with shattered 
 nerves — in short, quite unable (in hunting phraseology) 
 * to go a yard.' ' No, no,' said I, shaking my head in 
 response to their protestations and entreaties ; ' I am 
 as fit as a fiddle just now, my boys, and, with due 
 deference to all of you, in that enviable position I 
 intend to remain if possible.' 
 
 True to my resolution, I did stay behind, and I don't 
 mind confessing that, notwithstanding the arrival of a 
 big box from Mudie's of all the newest things in novels, 
 and all the magazines and newspapers to be bought for 
 money, I was obliged to admit to myself that my friends 
 were not far wrong when they one and all prognosti- 
 cated that I should find myself in my self-imposed 
 solitude 'as dull as ditchwater.' At the end of the 
 third day there was no mistake at all about it: I was 
 heartily sick of it. I was dull — intolerably dull ! For 
 two pins, in fact, I would have ordered my portman- 
 teaus to be packed, and been off. Nothing but fear of 
 the chaff with which I knew I should be received if I 
 did, prevented me. 
 
 Now, every night as I lay on the sofa in front of the 
 fire, smoking and pretending to read, I used to hear 
 sounds of revelry going on in a distant room, that in 
 my bored frame of mind made me positively envious. 
 I found, too, that whilst the noise went on, it was quite 
 out of the question to give the slightest attention to 
 
 1—2 
 
4 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 the book I happened to be reading, no matter how 
 interesting. 
 
 At length, one evening, as I was trying to read, an 
 extra loud ' Ha ! ha ! ha ! Haw ! haw ! haw !' followed 
 by much stamping of feet and thumping of glasses and 
 fists on a table caused me to shy the volume into 
 the corner of the room in a rage, and to ring the bell 
 furiously. 
 
 ' Confound the fellows !' I exclaimed. ' What a good 
 story that must have been, I know ! Why cannot I 
 enjoy it as well as they ?"" 
 
 ' Tell Mr. Magnum (the landlord) I shall be glad if 
 he will come and speak to me for a moment,"* said I to 
 the waiter who answered my summons. 
 
 ' Oh, I say. Magnum,' I blurted out impatiently to 
 my cheery host on his making his appearance, * I 
 can't stand this sort of thing any longer ; 'pon my soul 
 I can't. I am so bored and sick of my own company, I 
 can't tell you. There appears to be a festive lot some- 
 where upon the premises. Who are they ? Can't I 
 join 'em.f^' 
 
 'Ah,' replied my landlord, with a sympathetic air, 
 ' I was afraid, sir, you'd find it none too lively, now 
 the other hunting gentlemen have left us. The noise 
 you hear proceeds from the members of a little club, 
 which meets here most nights, composed of some of the 
 townspeople and folk round about. Mostly all sporting 
 characters they are — in fact, sir, that's one of the quali- 
 fications of the club, that the members must be either 
 connected with sport of some kind, or else be partial to 
 it. Another rule is that each member must either sing a 
 song or tell a story at least once a month. If he don't. 
 
INTRODUCTION 5 
 
 it's a fine of " glasses round.'' The " Horse-shoe Club " 
 we call it, and Fm quite sure, sir, that if you would so 
 far condescend to drop in and smoke a cigar in their 
 company, they would esteem it as a most distinguished 
 honour, sir. I 'appen,' he added, with an air of some 
 consequence, * to occupy the chair (he pronounced it 
 ' cheer ') to-night myself, and I shall (with a bow) be 
 both proud and 'appy to interduce you to the club, if 
 you think proper to join us for half an hour.' 
 
 ' Come on,' said I, delighted at the notion. ' Let us 
 go at once, if not sooner.' 
 
 Suffice it to say that in less than five minutes I, 
 having been duly presented to the assembled company 
 by Mr. Magnum, was unanimously elected an honorary 
 member of the ' Horse-shoe Club.' I remember how I 
 qualified myself for membership by standing 'glasses 
 round,' and by singing ' John Peel ' (encored) in my 
 very best style. I remember that I consumed in the 
 course of the evening more gin-and-water hot than I 
 ever did before in my life, and I also remember the 
 very perfect thing in headaches I woke up with on 
 the following morning. Headache or no headache, 
 however, my first visit was by no manner of means the 
 last, and this series of stories are some selected by me 
 from those I heard during my membership of the 
 ' Horse-shoe Club.' I only wish I could tell them half 
 as racily and well as the original narrators. 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE 
 DERBY 
 
 THE LITERARY GENTLEMAN'S STORY 
 
 A:moxgst the varied company with whom I hob-nobbed 
 during my nocturnal visits to the ' Horse-shoe Club ** 
 was a rather out-at-elbows-looking gentleman, evidently 
 much looked up to by the members — his opinion, 
 indeed, being law on everything, apparently. He was 
 a Mr. Francis Flipperly, and, I believe, occupied at 
 that time the post of sub-editor to that well-known 
 journal, the Barley ford Gazette and Featherhedshire 
 Advertiser. 
 
 ' A great scJiolard, sir,"* wheezed old Drencher, the 
 veterinary surgeon, in my ear. ' A littery gent, so Fm 
 told,' he continued, ' and ivery clever. A most amoosing 
 feller he is, too, 'ticklarly when he's had a glass or two. 
 Sings a hexcellent song, and,' wound up Drencher, with 
 an admiring glance at the object of his eulogy, ' plays 
 the Jew's 'arp as I never heerd it played yet.' 
 
 A man possessing such rare gifts as these was, of 
 course, worth cultivating, so I lost no time, the reader 
 may depend, in making his acquaintance ; and I am 
 bound to say that his admirers at the club had not at 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 7 
 
 all overrated his social qualities. He could mimic, he 
 could sing, ventriloquize — was, in short, one of those 
 talented natives of Bohemia one so often comes across, 
 who, had he possessed the same power of application 
 that he had of amusing people, would have made 
 a name in the world ; in plain English, he was nobody's 
 enemy but his own. Finding that I possessed sundry 
 old sporting books that he said would be useful to 
 him for reference, I made him free of my sitting-room 
 at the inn during my stay, bidding him at the same 
 time be sure and make himself at home and order 
 whatever he pleased at my expense. As one fine 
 afternoon, on my return from hunting, I found him 
 gracefully reclining on the floor, with his head in the 
 coal-scuttle, I think I may take it that he took me at 
 my word. 
 
 After I had left the inn, finding that several incidents 
 in the story that I had heard him relate at the club 
 had escaped my memory, I wrote to him to ask if he 
 would kindly refresh it for me. 
 
 My good-natured Bohemian acquaintance more than 
 met my requirements, for he took the trouble to write 
 me, not only the entire story, but sundry addenda 
 which he had omitted when relating it viva voce at the 
 ' Horse-shoe Club.' 
 
 Introductory Remarks by Francis Flipperly, ' Gentle- 
 man AT Large ■* and ' Man of Letters ' (Registered, 
 when he can get 'em). 
 
 To the Readers (dear and gentle — or otherwise, as 
 the case may be) : 
 
 Have you ever woke up of a morning very much alive 
 
8 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 to the fact that you possess a remarkably fine appetite 
 for breakfast, and no visible means of satisfying the 
 same ? 
 
 I sincerely hope not, because you may take the word 
 of One Who Knows that it is a most uncomfortable 
 and unpleasant feeling, and, moreover, one extremely 
 apt to raise ungentlemanly and coarse ideas in a man's 
 mind — such, for instance, as not only wondering why 
 he was born, but sincerely regretting he ever had 
 been. 
 
 These, I regret] to say, were precisely my own senti- 
 ments when opening my eyes one fine morning in my 
 apartments au quatrieme (that's a gentlemanly way, I 
 think, of describing my garret in — well, I would prefer, 
 if you don't mind, not giving the address ; suffice it to 
 say it was not in Pall Mall, neither was it in St. James's 
 Street, nor even, indeed, within an eighteenpenny cab 
 fare of either of those fashionable localities). Fortu- 
 nately for me, I am what the doctors term ' a person of 
 sanguine, not to say cheerful, temperament,' so, instead 
 of wasting my time, as many a man in my position 
 would, in useless groaning and repining, a plan of 
 action which would not only have done no good, but 
 certainly made me hungrier than ever, I first playfully 
 shook my fist at a lucky dog of a spider, who, having 
 just bagged an uncommonly fine fly, was about to eat 
 him for breakfast, and then proceeded to^make a mental 
 inventory of my small (but select) wardrobe, with a 
 view of paying a visit to the best relation I have in the 
 world, my — oh, well, you know who I mean. Let me 
 see, thought I, telling the different articles off on my 
 fingers : 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 9 
 
 Dress suit : Gone. 
 
 Morning do. : Here (but I am wearing it). 
 
 Tweed do. : Gone. 
 
 Shirts : Gone — at least, all but a couple, one of 
 which is in constant wear; the other has come in 
 two. (Mem. : Wish it had come in four.) 
 
 Remaining items : One pair side-spring boots (the 
 same as usually worn by gents when disappearing from 
 their friends or making away with themselves). Rather 
 ' so-so ' about the upper leathers, otherwise in fairly good 
 order. 
 
 One pair shoes, patched in more than one place, and 
 a trifle ' dotty ' about the heels. 
 
 One silk umbrella : A regular wolf in sheep's clothing, 
 this little article. Looks five-and-twenty ' bobs' worth "* 
 all over when neatly rolled up and viewed from the 
 outside. When opened — well, perhaps you would 
 appraise its value at a trifle less. 
 
 The weather apparently being of rather an unsettled 
 nature just now, after a short deliberation I decided in 
 my own mind that I would keep my umbrella for a 
 rainy day (in a literal as well as figurative sense), and 
 subsist for the next two days on the side-spring boots. 
 Just when I had arranged for a beauty sleep — as the 
 ladies call it — before getting up, I heard a slithering 
 sort of noise under the door, followed by a loud rap as 
 from the knuckles of a human hand. 
 
 ''Ere's your 'ot water and a litter for you, Mister 
 
 (choke) Flipperly (snuffle). I can't come in 'cos my 
 
 hands is (sneeze), so I'll put it underneath the door,' 
 
 says the voice belonging to the owner of the knuckles. 
 
 ' A letter for me, eh ? That's a rare occurrence. I 
 
10 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 wonder if I can reach it without getting out of bed. I 
 will try, at all events.' 
 
 I do try, and after an acrobatic performance that 
 would have done credit to a professional gymnast, suc- 
 ceeded in dragging the letter, now somewhat soiled by 
 the dust, into bed. 
 
 Ha ! ha ! Methinks I recognise that fist. 'Tis that 
 of old Mr. Sheepshanks, of Lincoln's Inn, my late 
 father's solicitor, for a pony ! 
 
 What has he got to say, I wonder ? We will investi- 
 gate. 
 
 Eh ! What's this ? Oh, by Jove ! this is something 
 like. 
 
 Thus ran the letter : 
 
 ' [Private and confidential.^ 
 
 'Lincoln's Inn Fieij^s, 
 ' 186-. 
 ' Dear Mr. Francis, 
 
 ' At last I think I have found some congenial 
 employment for you, which is for you to accept or not, 
 as you think proper. 
 
 ' Some years ago an old and much-respected client of 
 mine. Sir George Cleveland, succeeded in winning (as 
 probably you are aware) the principal event in the 
 racing world — namely, the Derby — with a horse called 
 Beefeater. There were a great number of particulars in 
 connection with the race that the public at large were 
 never aware of, or they would have been considerably 
 astonished, I can tell you ; and these the present mem- 
 bers of the family are particularly anxious to put into 
 the hands of a competent person for the purpose of 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 11 
 
 collecting them together in book form for private (and 
 perhaps public) circulation. 
 
 'When down at Cleveland Court the other day on 
 business, the idea was mentioned to me and my advice 
 asked. Did I know of a competent person ? I immedi- 
 ately thought of you, and at once answered in the affirm- 
 ative. As the family are particularly anxious that the 
 work should be put in hand at once, there is, I need 
 scarcely say, no time to be lost. 
 
 ' If you elect (as I fancy you will) to offer your 
 services, you had better call upon me here at twelve 
 o'clock to-morrow, and we will discuss the matter in all 
 its bearings. 
 
 ' You can believe me when I say that if this offer (as 
 I am sure it will) should prove worth having, you may 
 rest assured that it will be very pleasing to me to think 
 that I have been able to serve in any way the interests 
 of the son of my old friend. 
 
 * Believe me to be 
 ' Your sincere friend and well-wisher, 
 
 ' Ralph Sheepshanks. 
 
 'To Francis Flipperly, Esq.' 
 
 To say that I was delighted when I had finished 
 reading the good old lawyer s letter was hardly the 
 word. The first thing I did was to jump out of bed 
 and dance an impromptu breakdown, which dance I 
 performed with such success as to rouse from his 
 slumbers the ' perfeshnul ' gent., as the maid-of-all-work 
 of the house called the music-hall artiste who inhabited 
 the room underneath me, causing him, moreover, to rise 
 from his couch, open his door, and use language of the 
 
12 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 very strongest description in the passage for my express 
 benefit. Having by this time eased my mind, and 
 being out of breath as well, I left off my Terpsichorean 
 exercises, and proceeded to prepare myself for the 
 ' promenade.** (Note, please, how, in the merest trifles 
 in the way of expressing myself, my gentlemanly ideas 
 still cling to me.) And my toilet at length completed, 
 out I walked, with my head in the air, and my side- 
 spring boots in brown paper, under my arm, looking 
 ' quite 'aughty,' as the maid- of-all- work — who, I regret 
 to say, was as familiar in her manner as she was grimy 
 in her person — was good enough to inform me, as she 
 looked up from her occupation of scrubbing the door- 
 step, and made room for me to pass. 
 
 I will pass over as briefly as possible how I spent the 
 time that intervened before keeping my appointment at 
 my lawyer s. Suffice it to say that, having, by the aid 
 of my boots, and my uncle, partaken of a most agree- 
 able breakfast, I presented myself, punctually to a 
 moment, at the hour appointed in Lincoln's Inn Fields, 
 and, having sent in my name, was at once admitted to 
 the lawyer's sanctum. Our interview, I am pleased to 
 say, was short and eminently satisfactory. In the 
 event, Mr. Sheepshanks said, of my undertaking the 
 work he had written to me about (as if there was the 
 slightest doubt about it ! thought I), I was to proceed 
 to Cleveland Court at my earliest possible convenience, at 
 which place I was to stay until the book was complete. 
 
 ' I had no objection to that,^ he supposed. 
 
 ' Not the slightest,' I replied. ' I can give up my — 
 ahem ! — chambers (chambers — oh, my eye ! if the slavey 
 could only hear me !) at a week's notice any day.' 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 13 
 
 ' You will be well done by at the Court,"* he remarked. 
 'It is a most comfortable house to stay at, I can assure 
 you.' 
 
 ' I have no doubt of it,' said I. (Visions of a French 
 chef — a veritable ctyi'don bleii, no doubt — dry cham- 
 pagne, and Leoville ""34 flitted across my Sybaritic 
 mind.) 
 
 ' And the remuneration is — stay half a moment whilst 
 I refer to the letter. Ah, yes, I thought so — one 
 hundred and fifty guineas. It will be quite a small 
 affair, you know — a mere pamphlet.' 
 
 ' H'm, well, yes. Oh, yes,"* I replied, with as careless 
 an air as I could assume. (Oh, Lord, if the old gentle- 
 man only knew !) ' I should say that amount will 
 repay me for my time and labour fairly well.' (I should 
 think so, indeed !) 
 
 * That's settled, then. I can write to my client at 
 once and tell him you agree to his terms ; and, let me 
 see, to-day is Tuesday. Shall I say you will arrive at 
 the scene of your labours on Saturday next ?' 
 
 ' By all means ; I shall be quite ready by then.' 
 
 'That's all, then, I think,' said Mr. Sheepshanks, 
 rising to bid me good-bye. Then a sudden thought 
 seemed to strike him. ' By the way,' said he, ' it has 
 just occurred to me that the preparations for your stay 
 at Cleveland Court will perhaps entail some additional 
 expense to you. Should you be in want of some ready 
 cash to go on with, I shall be most happy to make you 
 an advance — say, fifty pounds on account, eh ? Excuse 
 my asking, won't you ?"" 
 
 No excuses were necessary, I hastened to inform him, 
 and I accepted his offer with thanks. 
 
14 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 ' You old trump V I thought, as I wrote him an 
 acknowledgment; 'I wish there were a few more like 
 you, old boy.** 
 
 Having arranged to dine that evening with the 
 worthy old gentleman at his private house in Russell 
 Square, I bade him good-bye, and with his cheque for 
 fifty in my pocket, away I went, with as light a heart 
 as any man in London. 
 
 The said cheque being converted into current coin 
 of the reahn, luncheon at the Rainbow is about the 
 ticket, thought I. A pint of champagne with that 
 meal, and a large cigar of the best afterwards, instilled 
 most gentleman-like ideas into my head, and my first 
 act in consequence was to invest part of my cash in the 
 purchase of some gentlemanly-looking luggage, viz., 
 portmanteau, bag, and hat-box, at a second-hand shop 
 in the Strand, sundry other necessaries in the way of 
 minor articles of wearing apparel being also invested in. 
 I then took a cab and drove off to my chambers (I like 
 that word), calling on the way at my astonished uncle's 
 to redeem the sundry and various effects he was taking 
 care of for me. Finally, having packed up all my 
 belongings in my new portmanteau, I paid my landlady 
 (who, after the manner of her kind, was as servile now 
 as she was formerly insolent and overbearing), tipped 
 the slavey to an extent she was totally unaccustomed 
 to — my generosity, indeed, causing a black and white 
 tear to course down each side of her countenance — and 
 finally drove off rejoicing to a street situated within the 
 region of St. James's, well known as a stronghold for 
 bachelor quarters, in which I quickly found and secured 
 a bedroom for the few days I had to remain in town. 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 15 
 
 Nothing like a good address thought I to myself as, 
 heading my letter 
 
 '32, Jermyn Street, 
 
 St. James's, W.' 
 
 I wrote off on a sheet of the very thickest cream-laid 
 note-paper obtainable to Sir George Cleveland, Bart., 
 saying that if quite convenient to him I proposed to 
 journey to Cleveland Court on the following Saturday, 
 arriving at my destination, so far as I could ascertain 
 by reference to the guide of that arch puzzler, Mr. 
 Bradshaw, about four o'clock in the afternoon of that 
 day. 
 
 By return of post came the reply, a most courteous 
 one. Sir George would be most happy to see me on 
 the day named, and would make a point of sending a 
 carriage to meet me at the station and convey me to 
 the Court. 
 
 A charming letter — perfectly charming ! And how 
 well the envelope looked addressed in the baronet's 
 courtly, if perhaps a trifle shaky, hand to 
 
 'Francis Flipperly, Esq., 
 
 82, Jermyn Street, 
 
 St. James's, 
 
 London,' 
 
 and with a coat of arms on the seal almost as large as a 
 pat of butter, if I may make use of such a vulgar simile. 
 
 When I went out I left Sir George's letter (by 
 accident, of course) on the mantelpiece. 
 
 Result : 
 
 My landlord, an ex-butler, who, if he is to be believed, 
 has lived in some of the ''ighest of famblies,' makes me a 
 
« 
 
 16 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 low bow when I enter his house, and begs my acceptance 
 of a few flowers he had just had sent him from the 
 country. 
 
 Oh, what a hollow and sycophantic world it is we live 
 in! Fancy being fawned upon — grovelled to — because 
 one is in correspondence with a live baronet. 
 
 That is what it means — this sudden abasement of my 
 landlord. And — h'm — yes, the feeling is not altogether 
 an unpleasant one, possibly because I have been rather 
 a stranger to that sort of thing of late years. I am no 
 longer five feet seven in height, but six foot (in my 
 own estimation, at least), and I accept the landlord's 
 flowers with such a condescending, insolent air that I 
 cannot help wondering afterwards why he did not then 
 and there present me with the noble Order of the Boot. 
 I am sure, had I been in his place, that is what I should 
 have done. 
 
 But then I have some pride about me, don't you 
 know. 
 
 Many men I know who, no matter how fine their 
 apparel and general get-up, are as 'umble as so many 
 Uriah Heeps. 
 
 I, on the contrary, always dress gay (that is, of 
 course, when in funds), and am proud into the bar- 
 gain. 
 
 But I am digressing. On the 15th day, then, of 
 September, 186 — (I do so like to be accurate), accord- 
 hig to my promise to Sir George Cleveland, I took my 
 departure from Jermyn Street in state for my proposed 
 visit to Cleveland Court. The obsequious bow my im- 
 postor of a landlord made me when I entered the 
 hansom cab which was in waiting for me I shall never 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 17 
 
 forget ; in fact, the mere recollection of it is unction to 
 mj soul even to this day. The cabman, of course, asked 
 double his fare on the strength of it, the landlord's 
 ' salaam,"* combined with my general air and appearance, 
 having no doubt conveyed the impression to his mind 
 that I was a distinguished ornament to the Upper 
 House in some shape or form — a duke, in all proba- 
 bility. Well, he is not the only one. On my very 
 last visit to the racecourse — methinks it was Hampton 
 — Happy Hampton I believe its admirers call it, 
 though to me it proved unhappy Hampton, my watch, 
 I remember, was appropriated in the course of the 
 day by one or other of the light-fingered fraternity 
 who so largely patronize the national sport. True, the 
 watch was only a silver one, and had not gone (until its 
 visit to Hampton, ha! ha!) for years. Still, it was a 
 watch, for all that, and I remembered the many times 
 it had been the means of providing me with board 
 and lodging — watched over my welfare, in short — 
 another little jokelet of mine, please to notice, manu- 
 factured out of the very slightest material. 
 
 ' Mr. Flipperly, how do you do it ?' I can imagine I 
 hear the reader exclaim. Bless you, my dear lady or 
 gentleman, as the case may be, it is as easy as shelling 
 peas when you once get into the way of it ! 
 
 The very last time, I say, I patronized the races, 
 I was addressed as ' My lord ' by an itinerant card- 
 seller. 
 
 Oh yes, there was no mistake about it ; it was ' Card 
 and markin' pencil, sir ?' ' Race-card, captain ?' to 
 everybody else, but the moment the mendicant in 
 question set eyes on your humble servant, it was, as I 
 
 2 
 
18 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 have said, ' Race-card and markin' pencil, my Lord T 
 at once. 
 
 Nothing occurred worthy of note during my journey 
 from London. Suffice it to say that I travelled first- 
 class (for the first time for a considerable period), and 
 that on my arrival at Slumborough Road, the little 
 roadside station to which I had been instructed by 
 Sir George Cleveland in his letter to book myself, as 
 being the nearest to his house, T found a smart dog- 
 cart, driven by a still smarter groom, and drawn by a 
 magnificent creature in the way of horseflesh, awaiting 
 me there, to convey me to my destination. 
 
 The porter having stowed away my luggage, and I 
 having declined the groom's offer to resign his reins to 
 me, away we drove in the direction of the Court, which 
 was not what my charioteer was pleased to call ' fur,' 
 being, indeed, but three miles distant. 
 
 'Always suit your conversation to your company ,"* 
 being a favourite maxim of mine, and knowing that 
 people who have to do with horses as a rule think of 
 nothing else, I thought horseflesh would be a good topic 
 to start the conversation with in this case. 
 
 Accordingly, I began by praising the proud animal 
 between the shafts of the baronial dog-cart. 
 
 ' Nice horse that ' (I wouldn't swear, mind you, that 
 I didn't say 'oss'), I remarked, in as knowing a manner 
 as I could assume at a moment's notice. 
 
 ' Ah, he is a nice 'oss,' replied the smart groom, 
 brightening up, and glancing admiringly at the noble 
 animal, the while he playfully flicked him with his 
 whip across the neck, which he was arching so con- 
 ceitedly (if I may apply the term). ' Ah, he is a nice 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 19 
 
 'oss I By Beefeater (that's our 'oss as won the Darby 
 some years since), he is, out of a mare called Sarah 
 Gosser.' 
 
 ' Ha, the very nag my old friend Mr. Sheepshanks 
 told me about !' I thought to myself. 
 
 ' A good horse Beefeater, was he not ?' asked I. 
 
 'I should rayther think he wos,' replied my friend 
 the groom, who was evidently an enthusiast. 'The 
 splendidest 'oss / ever see ! Won the Darby further 
 than ever any 'oss has ever won it afore, he did.' 
 
 I need scarcely add that my charioteer, having now 
 got on to his favourite topic, the exploits of the gallant 
 Beefeater formed the sole theme of our conversation, 
 to the exclusion of all other topics, only ceasing, indeed, 
 on our arriving at the lodge gates belonging to Cleve- 
 land Court. 
 
 A five minutes' drive through what those flowery- 
 tongued gentry the auctioneers would term the magni- 
 ficently timbered park brought me to my destination, 
 and my friend the groom having jumped down, gave a 
 large bell which hung at the side of the door such a 
 hearty pull as caused it to clang with a noise loud 
 enough to alarm the neighbourhood, let alone the 
 inmates of the mansion. 
 
 Nobody but a baronet, thought I, could own such a 
 bell. 
 
 Open flew the great door at the sound, and out 
 rushed several splendid creatures to receive me. One 
 fellow took from me my book and papers ; another my 
 sticks and umbrellas ; a third my hat-box. There 
 really seemed a man for every separate article. Behind 
 these, again, directing the movements of his subor- 
 
 2—2 
 
20 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 dinates with an air of placid authority quite refreshing 
 to contemplate, stood a superior being clad in glossy 
 sable with spotless linen to match, and of plethoric — 
 not to say apoplectic — appearance. This was, of course, 
 the baronial butler. 
 
 The house party were all out ' a-shooting,'' he in- 
 formed me, but Sir George was at home, and was 
 waiting to receive me in the ' libery.** To the ' libery ' 
 accordingly he led the way, and in another moment the 
 venerable owner of the celebrated Beefeater was shaking 
 me by the hand with words of courteous welcome. 
 What a delightful, charming old gentleman, possessing, 
 as he did, all the dignity of the old school, with a 
 honliomie that set one at one's ease at once ! 
 
 ' A glass of sherry and a biscuit after your journey ? 
 Don't say no, Mr. Flipperly. I feel sure you must want 
 it. Bring some at once, will you, please. Jorum ? Now 
 I come to think of it, I don't see that a glass of wine 
 would do me any harm either.' 
 
 The sherry and biscuits made their appearance in 
 due course, and the worthy old baronet drank to me, 
 saying, as he did so, with delightfully courteous bow : 
 
 'I bid you welcome, sir, to Cleveland Court, and 
 you will believe me, I trust, when I say that, next to 
 a ' Sportsman,' there is no one I am so glad to see 
 under my roof as a ' Man of Letters.' 
 
 Formalities over, we sat down and discussed the 
 situation without more ado. 
 
 Once set going on the subject of Beefeater, I 
 quickly found that my host was as garrulous an old 
 gentleman as one would meet with in a day's march. 
 However, as I am equally good as a listener — especially 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 21 
 
 when there is a decanter of tip-top sherry (as in the 
 present instance) at my elbow — we got along capitally. 
 Dear old man ! I can see him now — with his two thumbs 
 joined together, and his poor old head wagging, 
 prosing away by the hour, under the firm impression 
 that the distinguished man of letters in the chair 
 opposite, who was alternately dozing and taking back- 
 handers at the sherry on the sly, was listening to every 
 word. 
 
 At length the old gentleman finished his discourse, at 
 precisely the same moment that I had buzzed the bottle 
 of Ammontillado. 
 
 ' Well, we won't go further into the matter to-day," said 
 the old baronet ; ' youVe tired, I can see.' (' Oh, Lord I' 
 thought I, ' I hope to goodness I have not been snoring.') 
 ' So, with your permission, we will resume our conversa- 
 tion to-morrow morning after breakfast — that is, if you 
 are sufficiently recovered from your fatigue of to-day.' 
 
 I thought so. I had been snoring. 
 
 ***** 
 
 'Well, my dear sir,' said my venerable host, the 
 morning after my arrival at Cleveland Court, when, 
 according to an overnight covenant, I accompanied him 
 to the library after breakfast ' for the purpose of hear- 
 ing full particulars of Beefeater's Derby victory ' — ' well, 
 my dear sir, I have been thinking the matter over during 
 the night, and an idea has occurred to me that I fancy 
 you will approve of. I, as you see, am not by any means 
 so young as I was, and I find my memory fails me at 
 times — am apt, in short, to get confused when I have a 
 great deal to think about. My son, too, is not only 
 
22 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 very busy with his shooting just now, but he is a bad 
 hand, I know, at telling a story, especially when — as in 
 this case — it is about himself. 
 
 ' Now, nobody knows more about the ins and outs of 
 the case, or is a greater enthusiast on the subject, than 
 my butler, John Jorum. A worthy man, sir, a worthy, 
 good man, and a faithful servant, if ever there was one 
 in this world. I have spoken to John on the subject, 
 and you should have seen his honest face light up with 
 pleasure when I made the proposal to him. 
 
 ' " It will be a labour of love. Sir George," he ex- 
 claimed, " it will indeed." 
 
 ' With your approval, then, John will be in attendance 
 on you either here or in the Stewards' room at any hour 
 of the day you please.' 
 
 I immediately expressed my unqualified approval of 
 Sir George's notion, for indeed I had foreseen some 
 trouble if it came to relying solely on my venerable 
 host for the information I wished for. 
 
 Accordingly the faithful John Jorum was rung for 
 at once, and on my selecting the Stewards' room for the 
 scene of our conferences, and acting on my suggestion 
 that we should immediately proceed to business, the 
 gratified butler at once led the way to that apartment. 
 I may add that I had three reasons for my choice of 
 this room, viz. : No. 1, the butler would be more at his 
 ease in his own castle, so to speak ; No. 2, I should be 
 enabled to smoke (a vice I am much addicted to) ; No. 3, 
 the likelihood of there being at hand a bottle of some- 
 thing good. You cannot think what grand ideas, what 
 noble sentiments occur to me when, say, a bottle of 
 brown sherry, or of something extraordinary in Scotch 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 23 
 
 whisky is available for me to put my lips to ' when 
 so disposed,' as the immortal Sairey Gamp would 
 say. 
 
 The Story as related to Me by John Jorum, Butler 
 AND Confidential Servant to Sir George Cleveland, 
 Baronet. 
 
 You say you want me to begin at the very beginning ? 
 Very good, I will ; and I promise you I won't leave out 
 a single circumstance if I can help it. Not that I think 
 that's very likely, for I can assure you that every little 
 detail connected with Beefeater's immortal Derby is so 
 engraved, I might say, in my memory, that no amount 
 of rubbing would ever obliterate it. 
 
 I must take you back, first of all, to the breaking out 
 of the Crimean War. 
 
 The family were all seated at breakfast. (I can see 
 'em just as plainly as I can see you.) Sir George, my 
 lady. Miss Eva, and the Pride of the Family as I used 
 to call him — Mr. Frank, our son and heir — then a 
 handsome young man, or boy, as I might truly say, for 
 he was only eighteen, and but lately gazetted to an 
 
 ensigncy in the regiment of foot soldiers. It was 
 
 with a trembling hand that I brought in the post-bag, 
 I can tell you, and I felt quite a pang at my old heart 
 when I handed it to Sir George, for they were all talk- 
 ing away so merrily. 
 
 I had the news, you see, from the postman, who had 
 heard it that very morning from the town. 
 
 ' War's declared along wi' Rooshia,' says he, ' and 
 there'll be some bloody work afore long, mark my 
 
24 AxNNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 words if there bain't, Mr. Jorum. It's to be 'oped,' he 
 went on, ' they won't kill the young Capting. But I'm 
 afeard he'll never come 'ome alive. There's so many of 
 them there Muscovys, ye see, that the hodds is ten to 
 one agin it in my opinion.' 
 
 ' Damn the postman !' said I to myself as he 
 walked off. 
 
 I declare to you, sir, that this infernal Job's-com- 
 forter sort of language gave me a regular turn. 
 
 Well, the bag was opened, and the first thing to 
 hand was a large blue letter for our young soldier, 
 marked ' O. H. M. S. — Immediate.' He tore it open, got 
 very red, and jumped up like one possessed, and danced 
 about the room — actually danced about the room with 
 
 joy. 
 
 ' Hooray !' says he — ' hooray ! War declared with 
 Russia. Think of that, all of you ! I shall be a 
 Captain now before I'm twenty. Hooray ! One more 
 cup of tea, Eva, and then I must go and pack up.' 
 
 ' My darling boy !' exclaimed my poor lady, beginning 
 to whimper. 
 
 Miss Eva proceeded to pour the tea into the sugar 
 basin, trying all the while to be brave ; but it was no 
 go, and in another minute she broke down and began 
 to cry. Sir George was the only one to bear up, and 
 that was a hard job, I could see, for he turned as pale 
 as a sheet, and was all of a tremble. 
 
 The news had reached the servants' hall, of course, 
 and when I got to it, there were all the women in tears, 
 of course. Old Abraham Long, the keeper, arrived 
 soon after ; he had heard the news, and had posted up 
 instantly to see the last of Mr. Frank. I was glad to 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 25 
 
 see him, too, for he was the cheerful lest of the whole 
 lot. 
 
 ' Why, how can you all be so silly as to go for to cry 
 like that !' said he, in his bluff* way, addressing the 
 company generally. ' AVhy, dang my boans and body ! 
 MasV Frank'll go in at them 'ere Rooshians, bless ye, 
 like a dog at his dinner. Go along with 'ee ! I'm 
 ashamed of 'ee all, that I am. Come, Mr. Jorum, draw 
 some ale, and let's drink Mas r Frank's good 'elth and 
 confusion to all the Rooshians and Prooshians as ever 
 was born, dang 'em !' 
 
 And if you'll believe me, sir, that's just what we did, 
 women and all ; and I'm bound to say we felt all the 
 better for it after. You'd have thought we were 
 a lot of soldiers ourselves to have heard our big 
 talk. 
 
 Well, in another hour our young hero and his servant 
 drove off* to the station to join his regiment at South- 
 ampton, and Sir George and my lady and Miss Eva 
 were to follow by a train later in the day. 
 
 'And, Jorum,' said Sir George to me, 'you are to 
 come with us. Mr. Frank has expressed a wish to this 
 effect.' 
 
 So away we all went to Southampton to see the last 
 of our gallant young soldier. Never shall I forget the 
 farewell dinner Sir George gave to the Colonel and 
 officers of the regiment at the hotel the night before 
 the ship sailed. The dinner was cheerful enough : 
 you'd have thought by the way they all talked that 
 they were going hunting the next day ; but when it 
 came to speechifying, and Sir George got up on his 
 legs to drink to the health of the regiment, and success 
 
26 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 to the British arms, I confess my feelings got the better 
 of me. 
 
 A fine, brave speech my good old master made, I can 
 tell you, and so did the Colonel — such a fine-looking 
 man, sir ! He was one of the first killed when the 
 regiment charged up the heights of the Alma. When 
 he said, in the course of his speech, that there was no 
 one in the regiment more popular with both officers 
 and men than our young hero, though he had been 
 such a short time with them, I could stand it no longer, 
 but left my post behind Sir George's chair and went 
 out of the room to have a good blubber, all to myself 
 in the passage. 
 
 The next morning came the hardest task of all, 
 namely, the final parting — for, of course, we all went to 
 see the last of him. What a scene it was, to be sure ! 
 I seem, as I sit here, to hear the bands playing, the 
 cheering of the troops on board the transport, and the 
 people on shore cheering and shouting back again, just 
 as vividly as if I was looking on in reality. There was 
 plenty of noise and hubbub, as you may imagine ; but 
 it did not prevent my hearing Mr. Frank say to Sir 
 George, as he shook him for the last time by the hand 
 — both hands I should say — and, gay and cheerful as 
 he pretended to be, his voice trembled as he spoke : 
 
 ' Good-bye and God bless you, dear father ! I'll come 
 back safe and sound to you, never fear, and we'll lead 
 Beefeater back to weigh in together after he's won the 
 Derby ; mark my words if we don't.' 
 
 I often thought of that speech of Mr. Frank's when 
 we all got back again to Cleveland Court, and wondered 
 to myself whether his prophecy would come true. 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 27 
 
 Well, time went on, and so did the war. I took in 
 my own newspaper, so that I knew before anyone in the 
 house how things were going on with our gallant troops 
 in the East, and I may remark here that I found that 
 newspaper of mine rather an impediment not only to 
 my work, but to my recreation as well. First one 
 would come into my room, and then another; one 
 moment it would be the housekeeper (an unnecessary 
 proceeding on her part, for I happened to know that 
 she took in her private newspaper as well, but I did not 
 mind her so much, for reasons that I need not enter 
 into here) ; then it would be one of the footmen ; next 
 the upper housemaid — a very nice-looking young woman, 
 I remember, our upper housemaid was, and I don't 
 know but what — well, well, she married the stud-groom 
 afterwards, and is the mother of ten, so Fm told, poor 
 thing ! (Mr. Jorum at this point gave a deep sigh, 
 shook his head gravely at the fire, and took a solemn 
 sip from his glass of sherry ere he resumed his narra- 
 tive.) All of them came bothering about the same 
 thing. 
 
 ' Any news from the seat of war this morning, Mr. 
 Jorum .?"' 
 
 What with the amount of handling that newspaper of 
 mine got in the course of the day in the servants' hall 
 there was precious little of it left towards evening I can 
 tell you, sir. 
 
 Well, at last came the news of the battle of the 
 Alma; and great was the joy all through the house 
 when we heard that the hope and pride of the family (as 
 I may truly call him) was safe and sound, the only 
 disaster that had happened to him being the loss of an 
 
28 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 epaulette, which, he wrote word, had been torn away by 
 a shot. 
 
 You'll scarcely believe it, sir, but the moment I 
 imparted this bit of news to the housekeeper, having 
 just heard Sir George reading it out from Mr. Frank's 
 letter at breakfast for everybody's edification, blessed if 
 she didn't swoon right away into my arms before all the 
 servants. 
 
 ' Oh, Mr. Jorum,' she exclaimed, when she came to, 
 ' is the epaulette a vital part ?' 
 
 After this exhibition, thinks I to myself, the sooner, 
 my dear madam, you and I come to a quiet understand- 
 ing with regard to the future, the better, otherwise I 
 shall be losing my authority amongst the other 
 domestics ; and that would never have done, you know, 
 sir. I therefore astonished Mrs. Mulberry by a visit to 
 the housekeeper's room that very afternoon, with the 
 result that before tea-time it was known throughout the 
 establishment that the pair of us had arranged at a 
 future period — possibly w^hen Mr. Frank had returned 
 and Beefeater carried off the Derby — to mutually com- 
 fort each other in our declining years by uniting our- 
 selves in the bond of wedlock. For the future, there- 
 fore, the impulsive Mrs. Mulberry was at full liberty to 
 faint in my room, twenty times a day if she liked, 
 without there being the slightest fear of any such act of 
 hers causing unseemly levity on the part of our fellow- 
 servants. 
 
 The next piece of news of importance to the family at 
 the Court was the account of the Battle of Inkermann. 
 (I pass over Balaclava, as our young hero, not being in 
 the cavalry, was, of course, not there, and a good job 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 29 
 
 too, though, no doubt, he did not think so.) Here 
 again Mr. Frank's good luck stuck to him, for not only 
 did he get through that sanguinary day without a 
 scratch, but he was mentioned in despatches for con- 
 spicuous gallantry in the field as well. The hounds met at 
 the Court the day after the news arrived, as it happened, 
 and everybody was asked in to breakfast. The cham- 
 pagne flowed, I can tell you, sir, and you may be sure 
 Mr. Frank's health was drunk by all present, with three 
 times three. I thought they would all of 'em have 
 shouted themselves hoarse. He was a wonderful 
 favourite with everybody was Mr. Frank, you see, sir. 
 
 Then came the siege of Sebastopol, and we all began 
 to feel quite comfortable. It was only a question of 
 time, said everybody ; the Russians canH stand out 
 against such a pounding as they are getting from the 
 allied army very much longer, and then you'll see one 
 fine morning down will go the Russian Eagle, and the 
 English and French flags will take its place, and then the 
 war will be over. Mr. Frank continued to write the 
 pleasantest letters home imaginable, describing his life 
 in the trenches, and making believe to his mother that 
 it was quite a little holiday for him and the rest of 
 them. The description he gave of his Christmas dinner 
 positively went to my heart, as I told her ladyship, 
 when she kindly gave me the letter to read. The dinner 
 itself was bad enough, principally consisting of sardines, 
 as far as I could make out ; but when I read — when I 
 read hoAv they drank their champagne out of tin 
 pannikins — three between eight of 'em — I could stand 
 no more, but handed the letter back to my lady, and 
 retired to my pantry, quite broken in spirit, to think 
 
30 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 that such things could be in a civilized country. If 
 Mrs. Mulberry had appeared at that juncture, I verily 
 believe I should have rung the changes on her, and 
 swooned away in her arms ! Champagne in a tin 
 pannikin ! It sets one's teeth on edge to think 
 of it! 
 
 Well, sir, time went on, and so did the siege. Except 
 an occasional dash at a Russian rifle-pit Mr. Frank's 
 life in the trenches seemed rather monotonous, though 
 I fancy there must have been plenty of danger from 
 those nasty shells flying about, according to all accounts, 
 though he did not appear to think much of it, judging 
 from his letters. 
 
 At length, one September morning — how well I re- 
 member it ! — I don't know why, but something impelled 
 me to take a stroll as far as the lodge before breakfast, 
 and meet the postman. 
 
 What a heavenly morning it was, to be sure ! The 
 dew lay on the grass, sparkling in the sunlight like 
 millions of diamonds ; whilst the mist, hanging heavily 
 over the turnips, pointed to a hot day. A covey of 
 partridges were running on in front of me along the 
 carriage-drive, where they had been dusting themselves, 
 no doubt. W-h-i-r-r-r ! Up they got. Ah, my boys, 
 I thought to myself, it is a pity Mr. Frank is not here 
 to make your acquaintance to-day. 
 
 The postman was at the lodge just as I got there, and 
 handed me over the family letter-bag, which I opened 
 there and then (I always kept the key), and abstracted 
 therefrom my own private newspaper. 
 
 There was some news this time with a vengeance. 
 Nothing less than a full account of the storming and 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 31 
 
 capture of the Redan by our troops, followed by a list 
 of the killed, wounded, and missing of those officers who 
 took part in the assault. I skimmed it hastily over, 
 and — ' Good Heavens !"■ exclaimed I, Svhat will become of 
 Sir George and my poor lady now T for there, staring 
 me in the face amongst those ' missing ' (which, of 
 course, I took to be another word for ' dead,' and so 
 would anyone) was the name of Francis John Cleve- 
 land, ensign, th Fusiliers. I scarcely dare face the 
 
 family with the post-bag, I can tell you, in case there 
 should be any letter from any friend of the family con- 
 veying the bad news. The Times I took the liberty of 
 putting in my own pocket until after breakfast, when I 
 made up my mind to impart what I had seen privately 
 to poor Miss Eva, who would in her turn break it to 
 Sir George and my lady. It would be less of a shock 
 coming quietly from her, I thought, than from any 
 other source. 
 
 ' Ha,' said Sir George, examining his letters, ' no 
 letter from the Crimea this morning. Well, " no news 
 is good news," eh, my lady ? Where's the T'mies, 
 though? John, get me the paper, will you .?' 
 
 ' It's not come this morning. Sir George,' stammered 
 I. ' They — they've forgot it. Sir George, I expect ; and 
 it will be sent later on. Sir George.' 
 
 ' Dear me,' continued my unsuspecting master, ' that 
 is really too bad of them. John, you must send 
 someone on horseback to the station for it, if it does 
 not turn up soon. Can't do without the paper, you 
 know.' 
 
 ' Very good, Sir George,' replied I, leaving the room 
 with a very guilty face, for I was pretty sure, by her 
 
32 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 manner, that Miss Eva guessed something was wrong. 
 What a memorable day that was, to be sure ! I don't 
 know that I ever passed a worse. The following one 
 was almost as bad, for half the county called in the 
 course of the afternoon, leaving cards of condolence. 
 My lady, of course, took on dreadful, so did Sir George 
 at first, but after awhile Miss Eva, who had the pluck 
 of twenty ordinary young women, got him round to 
 her way of thinking — namely, that Mr. Frank had, 
 perhaps, only been taken prisoner ; and very soon the 
 idea got firmly hold of him that his son was still in the 
 land of the living. My lady, however, would not be 
 convinced. She shut herself up in her own apartments, 
 and utterly refused to be comforted. 
 
 Well, sir, I was sitting in this very room two days 
 after the bad news came to us, with a regular fit of the 
 mopes upon me, and just thinking to myself that if this 
 sort of thing went on much longer I should be com- 
 pelled, in self defence, to take to the bottle, when who 
 should walk in but old Job Faithful, Sir George's private 
 trainer. 
 
 You never saw such a disappointed-looking man in 
 your life. His face was as long as a ladder, as the 
 saying is, and even his whiskers, which he commonly 
 took unusual pride in, hadn't an atom of curl in them. 
 
 ' Well, friend Jorum,' he began, seating himself, ' this 
 is a pretty business, ain't it ?' 
 
 ' About our poor young soldier, you mean ?' said L 
 
 ' Ay,' he replied, with a melancholy shake of his head, 
 and, I could swear, a tear in his eye. (Between you and 
 me, sir, I had no idea the man possessed so much feeling.) 
 ' Ay, poor young Mr. Frank ! and poor Beefeater ! I 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 33 
 
 declare to you, I never was so disappointed in my life, 
 Jorum. To think that Fve got the best horse in 
 England — that ever was foaled I might almost say — 
 and that now all chance of winning the Derby with 
 him, all owing to a lot of nasty dirty Turks and greasy 
 Russians, is clean gone for ever. It makes me down- 
 right mad, that's the honest truth, Mr. Jorum. I 
 can't abear to think about it, that I can't ! It's too 
 bad ! too bad ! that's what it is.' 
 
 ' Well, but,' said I, ' we don't know for certain that 
 Mr. Frank is dead yet, and even if he was Sir George 
 would run Beefeater next May if only for the sake of 
 his backers, that I'm certain sure of.' 
 
 ' What ! Don't you know ?' exclaimed Job Faithful 
 with a groan. ' Do you mean to say you don't know 
 that Beefeater is nominated for the Derby in Mr. 
 Frank's own name? It makes all the difference in 
 the world. If Mr. Frank is really dead the nomina- 
 tion is void and the horse can't run. It's that which 
 has put me about so terribly. Noza do you under- 
 stand ? Oh,' groaned he, ' it's awful to contemplate ; 
 it is, indeed, perfectly awful !' 
 
 I said no more, but straightway went and fetched a 
 bottle of the dry sherry we're now drinking, sir, and 
 under its genial influence and — I hope I may add — my 
 comforting talk, poor Job Faithful, when he departed 
 to get on to his horse and go home, did not feel quite 
 so despondent as when he came. 
 
 ' Keep a good heart, Job,' were my last words to him. 
 ' I've a notion that you'll lead the winner of the Blue 
 Riband back to scale next year, for all you may think 
 to the contrary.' 
 
 S 
 
34 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 'I only hope,'' replied Job, 'that your words may 
 come true. All I can say is, that if such a bit of luck 
 does happen, Fll buy you the handsomest diamond 
 scarf-pin to be bought for money with the greatest 
 pleasure in life/ 
 
 Til shake hands upon that, old chap," replied I. 
 ' Keep your spirits up is my advice, and look for good 
 news. It'll take a good many of them nasty Russians 
 to settle such a plucked one as Mr. Frank, and I shall 
 believe in his death only when I see a doctor''s certificate 
 to that effect. No, no ; there's life in the " young " dog 
 yet, I'll go bail.' 
 
 The next person to turn up — which he did in a dog- 
 cart from the Cleveland Arms, in a tremendous state 
 of excitement — was poor Mr. Frank's greatest friend 
 (and I may as well add at the same time, Miss Eva's 
 greatest friend), Mr. Charles Netherby. 
 
 'This is bad news, John,' says he, as he jumped down 
 from the dog-cart in his usual impetuous style. 
 
 ' It is bad news indeed, sir,' replied I ; ' but I've not 
 given Mr. Frank up as dead, for all their talking, and I 
 shan't believe in it until I know it for a fact from an 
 eye-witness.' 
 
 'John Jorum,' blurts out Mr. Charles, and shaking 
 me by the hand to that extent that it was numb for 
 five minutes after, ' you're a man after my own heart, 
 that's what you are. I'm quite of your opinion. Bless 
 you ! dear old Frank is no more dead than you or I, 
 John; and, what's more to the purpose, I'm going to 
 prove it, for I'm off to-morrow to the East, and if 
 I don't bring " the bould soger boy " back with me, 
 why I'm one Dutchman, John, and you're another. 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 35 
 
 Where's Sir George, John ? Or, stay," said he, as 
 if a sudden thought had occurred to him — the sly 
 rascal ! — ' where is Miss Eva ? I think it would, under 
 the circumstances, be better, perhaps, if I saw her. 
 What do you think, John ?' 
 
 'I think it would be best, sir — decidedly best,"* I 
 replied in my gravest manner (laughing in my sleeve, 
 though, all the time, you may be sure). ' You'll find 
 her all alone in the morning-room, I'm pretty certain, 
 sir.' 
 
 Away he hurried, and the conversation was evidently 
 an important one, for he never left that morning-room 
 until it was time for him to be off again — wouldn't 
 even wait for luncheon. Just a glass of sherry, swallowed 
 in one gulp ; and he wouldn't have done that if I hadn't 
 waited for him with the decanter in the hall. 
 
 ' Another, sir — just another,' said I, pouring a second 
 glass out as quick as I could. 
 
 'No, no. I haven't time. Yes, I will, though; just 
 to drink to the treble event that I'm going to bring 
 off.' 
 
 ' What's that, sir .?' I inquired (not that I wanted 
 much telling). 
 
 ' Why, this, John : My fetching back Mr. Frank safe 
 and sound. My marrying Miss Eva directly after. 
 And last (but not least, for I've backed him for a heap 
 of money, John), Beefeater winning the Derby ! That's 
 something like a treble event, eh, John ?' 
 
 Well, away he drove at a pace that the Cleveland 
 Arms nag was not used to, you may depend, and having 
 watched him until he w^as well out of sight (mine were 
 not the only pair of eyes that saw the last of him, you 
 
 S—2 
 
36 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 may be sure), I returned to my room and drank to the 
 brave young fellow's health and speedy return in a glass 
 of port wine. 
 
 His confidence was certainly infectious, for, if you'll 
 believe me, sir, before post time I had actually written 
 to a friend of mine in London who did a good deal in 
 the sporting line, requesting him to put me ten pounds 
 on Beefeater for the Derby at the best price obtainable 
 in the market. ' Never mind,' said I, ' the reports going 
 about as to his not running; back him all the same, 
 and if you hear any good offers going about to lay 
 against his seeing the post, take them, for me, to 
 another ten.' 
 
 I put this in, as I had seen it mentioned in the papers 
 that fancy bets were on offer to that effect. 
 
 My friend wrote back to say that he had executed 
 both commissions at a highly satisfactory price, and 
 added that he thought me an old fool all the same. 
 
 ' Ah, don't you be too fast, my boy,' thought I to 
 myself. ' Wait until you see Beefeater (as you assuredly 
 will) being led back to the scale after the Derby, with 
 Sir George on one side of him and Mr. Frank on t'other, 
 and 'tis then you'll see who's the " old fool " — you or me. 
 Old fool, indeed ! No, no ; John Jorum wasn't born 
 yesterday ; don't you believe it.' 
 
 The next afternoon, with Sir George's kind permission, 
 one of the grooms drove me over in a dog-cart to Job 
 Faithful's, and there I had a good look at Beefeater in 
 his box. Such a horse, sir ! A bright bay with black 
 points, and not a speck of white upon him with the 
 exception of a star on his forehead. Well might Job 
 exclaim, almost with tears in his eyes, as his favourite 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 37 
 
 rubbed his soft muzzle up against his chest, 'It'll 
 break my heart (to say nothing of the missis's), Mr. 
 Jorum, if this beauty here is not allowed to run for the 
 Derby; 
 
 Well, I did what I could to comfort poor old Job, in 
 which laudable endeavour I was well backed up by his 
 wife (women have twice the heart of us men, I always 
 think, sir, and never throw up the sponge until the very 
 last moment), and when the time came for me to start 
 off in the dog-cart on my return journey to the Court, 
 I was glad to think that our united efforts had suc- 
 ceeded in soothing the trainer's troubled mind to a 
 certain extent, if not altogether. 
 
 The horse that was now being backed for most money 
 for the Derby — in fact, he was first favourite — was a 
 colt called Necromancer, and it was a curious fact that 
 he should be the property of a rich gentleman named 
 Maxwell — Richard Maxwell — who was not only owner of 
 the neighbouring estate to Cleveland Court, but was a 
 rejected suitor for the hand of our Miss Eva. I read in 
 the papers — indeed, it was common talk — that, now 
 Beefeater's chance of running seemed remote, Mr. Max- 
 well was backing his horse to win him an immense sum 
 of money, and I well remember myself and others think- 
 ing at the time that it was rather questionable taste on 
 his part, his doing so in such a very great hurry. Not 
 only that, it was reported — I don't know with what 
 truth — that Mr. Maxwell, who was a very bad-tempered 
 man, had said, when he first heard the report of Mr. 
 Frank's death : ' Oh, he is, is he ? Then that's all 
 right. M^ horse will win the Derby now, as sure as 
 a gun. He had a good chance, even if Beefeater was to 
 
38 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 run ; but now he's out of the way it's a moral certainty 
 for Necromancer.' 
 
 A nasty, unfeeling speech, wasn't it, sir ? and I hope 
 it was not true that he gave vent to it. However, if he 
 did make use of the words he was reported to have, I 
 can only say that, like a good many other would-be 
 clever people, he counted his chickens before they were 
 hatched. 
 
 Well, sir, the sudden shock occasioned by the bad 
 news received from the seat of war having somewhat 
 subsided, Cleveland Court once more resumed its usual 
 serenity, and our daily routine went on pretty much as 
 usual. Things were desperately quiet, of course. No 
 dinner-parties or entertainments of any sort or kind. 
 My lady still kept to her own apartments. Sir George 
 went out shooting occasionally, but his heart was not 
 in it, and he shot very badly the keepers told me. His 
 thoughts, you may depend, were far away with his boy 
 in the Crimea instead of with the pheasants. The 
 cheerfulest person in the house was Miss Eva. A\Tiat 
 we should all have done without her, I don't know, 
 and that's all about it. She and I always had a talk 
 as regularly as clockwork every morning after break- 
 fast, and you can guess, sir, what our talk was about. 
 Nothing but one subject, you might swear. Oh yes, 
 hers was a brave heart, if you like ! What a soldier 
 she would have made had she been a man ! I often 
 thought to myself. 
 
 Christmas came and went, and I'm bound to say it 
 was the dullest Christ Qias I ever spent in my life. No 
 ' go ' about anything. Even the brandy round the 
 plum-pudding, which I set fire to just before bringing 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY S9 
 
 into the dining-room, went out the moment I set it 
 down in front of Sir George, as much as to say : ' No, 
 really I haven't the spirit to blaze to-night, Jorum, my 
 boy.' The very mince-pies seemed to have lost their 
 flavour. The news of the fall of Sebastopol had arrived, 
 but no news yet of our gallant young soldier, and as 
 yet no tidings of his friend Mr. Charles Netherby, bless 
 his brave heart ! 
 
 Once every week did Job Faithful ride over on his cob 
 to inquire if there was any news of Beefeater's nominee 
 for the Derby. 
 
 Poor Job, as the time went on and nothing was heard 
 of Mr. Frank, seemed to lose more and more flesh, and 
 to get more despondent every day. 
 
 ' It's killing work, Jorum ; that's what it is, and 
 nothing else,' he would say, as he sipped his glass of 
 port wine in my room here. ' There's that beautiful 
 horse, never been sick nor sorry for a day ; he's com- 
 pletely worn out old Jack Shepherd, what leads him in 
 his work, bless you, and if it wasn't that my missus is 
 always telling me to cheer up, for she says she knows 
 it'll be all right by the Derby day, I do truly and 
 honestly believe I should break my heart.' Before the 
 old man would go, he always used to come out with, in 
 a sort of desperation, ' I say, John, do you really think 
 that Mr. Frank '11 ever turn up again ?'' 
 
 My invariable reply to the poor, unhappy man was, 
 ' I'm certain sure of it. Job, and there's my hand on 
 it !' He'd always brighten up a bit after that and 
 would start off" home again, doubtless to watch over 
 Beefeater's welfare more assiduously than ever. 
 
 Well, sir, time went on : the trees and hedges were 
 
40 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 beginning to don their green dresses ; the primroses and 
 violets put in an appearance ; the rooks began to build 
 their nests — all outward and visible signs of the arrival 
 of spring — and still no news of our two young men. I 
 really began to feel nearly as despondent as Job Faith- 
 ful at times, and almost brought myself to agree with 
 him that all hope of ever seeing Mr. Frank again was 
 pure waste of time, when one day, happening by the 
 merest chance to drive into the town to see about 
 sundry things for Sir George, I called in at the post- 
 office (as I always did on such occasions) to see if there 
 were any letters for the house. ' Yes,' said the clerk, 
 ' there are several. Here they are, Mr. Jorum, and one 
 for you amongst 'em.' 
 
 When I glanced at it, sir, a baby in arms might, 
 without exaggeration, have knocked me down. It was 
 a good-sized letter, written in a manly hand, on foreign 
 note-paper, and bearing a foreign post-mark. Here 
 was a go if you like ! How I got into the street I 
 don't know, but I do remember holding the long- 
 expected letter all the while as tight as wax, and I also 
 remember that I made straight for the Cleveland Arms, 
 and ordered a shilling's worth of brandy-and- water warm, 
 before I dared to open my precious epistle. I could 
 feel my old heart thumping against my ribs to some 
 tune, I can tell you. The glass of brandy-and- water 
 was drained to the dregs in one gulp the moment it 
 came, and then, and not before, did I muster up suffi- 
 cient courage to break the seal. 
 
 Such news that letter contained ! If it had not been 
 that I should have lost my character, for good and all, 
 as a respectable man and a butler of (I think I may say) 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 41 
 
 high standing, I rather think I should have thrown my 
 hat up to the ceihng and danced round the room for 
 very joy. 
 
 It was from Mr. Charles, of course, and as he wished 
 the news he had to tell kept absolutely secret (dark he 
 called it) from everybody, with the exception of Miss 
 Eva, he wrote to me in preference to anybody, having, 
 he said, entire confidence in my discretion. (I can't 
 help remarking here, sir, that in all my life I never had 
 such a compliment paid me.) He had found Mr. Frank, 
 he said, after a deal of trouble. Seriously wounded 
 and taken prisoner at the Redan, he had been taken 
 care of and nursed by some good people in Sebastopol, 
 who, when the town was evacuated, carried him off 
 along with them, for fear of harm coming to him 
 when the allied troops entered the place. Mr. Frank 
 had been frightfully ill, his friend said, and had com- 
 pletely for the time lost his reason, consequently it was 
 a matter of impossibility for the kind-hearted Russian 
 folk, into whose hands he had the good luck to fall, to 
 find out his name, so as to communicate with his friends 
 in England. However, he was now rapidly recovering. 
 At first Mr. Charles feared for his reason altogether, 
 but, thank God, about a fortnight after his finding him, 
 it returned to him, and now it was only a mere question 
 of time as regards his bodily strength. My gallant 
 correspondent added, ' I want you to give the enclosed 
 letter to Miss Eva with my fond love. I have told her 
 all I have told you, so that you and she hold the secret 
 in your two hands. 
 
 ' There is one other person,' he went on, ' I think we 
 can trust, and that is good old Job Faithful. Make a 
 
42 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 point of seeing him as soon as you can, and tell him 
 that he can count on seeing Mr. Frank at Beefeater's 
 head when he returns to weigh in after winning the 
 Derby, and tell him at the same time to put me on a 
 monkey at the best odds he can get/ In conclusion, he 
 added : ' If Mr. Maxwell had only behaved like a gentle- 
 man there would have been no secrecy at all in the 
 matter. As it is, I am determined to pay him off, and 
 am picturing to myself with fiendish glee the pleased (?) 
 expression that will come over his face when, having 
 objected to Beefeater — as of course he will, if his own 
 horse runs second — I suddenly produce the supposed 
 dead man. Oh, won't it be a case of "Sold again f with 
 a vengeance ! I hear he has backed Necromancer for a 
 fortune and does not intend to hedge a shilling of the 
 money. As soon as ever Mr. Frank is a bit better we 
 shall make a move to Paris, and from thence to England. 
 Shortly before the Derby — probably the day before — 
 I shall get Miss Eva to quietly break the good news to 
 Sir George, and then, my good old friend, all Beefeater 
 has got to do is to win to make our triumph complete. 
 Mr. Frank ' (wound up the letter) ' desires me to re- 
 member him kindly to his dear old friend ' (meaning me, 
 sir, and the tears came into my eyes as I read it) ' and 
 say that he wishes you were here at his side with a bottle 
 of Cleveland port and a devilled biscuit.' 
 
 I thought to myself, ' I wish I was, too, most 
 devoutly. If I didn't make a man of him in two days, 
 my name wouldn't be John Jorum. I have heard that 
 the Russians live almost entirely on caviare and brandy 
 neat, and what dreadful stuff that must be for an 
 invalid ! I don't suppose they have ever heard of 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 43 
 
 such a thing as a bowl of bishop in their blessed 
 lives.' 
 
 What the young fellow who drove me thought of my 
 demeanour during our homeward drive I don't know. 
 I found myself bursting out into strange laughter at 
 intervals, and I was conscious all the time of making 
 myself ridiculous. I couldn't help it, bless you, if it 
 was ever so. I was in that state of suppressed excite- 
 ment that there is no cure for, except a regular blow-off of 
 steam. And until I could get word of Miss Eva and Job 
 Faithful, and tell them my news, I knew I should get no 
 relief for my complaint. You may be sure that I did 
 not let the grass grow underneath my feet in either 
 case. It was just five o'clock when I reached the Court, 
 and instead of calling one of the footmen to carry up the 
 tea into the drawing-room as usual, I took it up myself. 
 My lady was as usual in her own room, so I had Miss 
 Eva all to myself. She knew by my face that I had 
 something of importance to communicate, and her look 
 of joy when I handed her her letter I could not describe 
 if I was to try for a year. When she had torn open 
 the envelope (which, by the way, she first paid the 
 compliment of kissing) and read the news inside, the 
 tears of joy coursed down her pretty face. ' Not much 
 fear of anybody supplanting Mr. Charles in your affec- 
 tions, my dear, at all events,' thought I to myself I 
 don't think I ever did see anybody in all my born days 
 look so happy as my dear young lady, bless her heart ! 
 
 She meant every word of it, I am certain, when, having 
 read his letter, she jumped up, and taking me by both 
 hands, exclaimed, ' My dear old Jorum, I never felt so 
 happy in my life.' 
 
44 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 The next morning as soon as ever breakfast was 
 cleared away, I asked for, and readily obtained, leave 
 from Sir George to absent myself from my duties for a 
 few hours. I didn't feel very well, I told him, and 
 thought a breath of fresh air would do me good. (Oh, 
 Lord, how guilty I felt when I said so !) 
 
 ' No doubt,^ replied the best and kindest of masters. 
 ' If you'll take my advice, John, you'll go for a drive 
 over the downs, and have a look at Beefeater.' 
 
 I need scarcely say that this proposal exactly fell in 
 with my own views, and I therefore lost no time in 
 ordering a dog-cart out. I described to you, as well as 
 I could, the appearance of Miss Eva when I imparted 
 to her my budget of news from the East ; but I should 
 be very sorry to attempt anything of the same in the 
 case of Job Faithful. I couldn't do it. The old man, 
 without exaggeration, positively looked twenty years 
 younger five minutes after I had delivered my message. 
 
 ' Nothing,' says he, ' will do but a bottle of champagne 
 on the spot, and, what's more, it shall be drunk in Beef- 
 eater's box, and nowhere else.' 
 
 He went into the house, bless you, there and then, 
 and came out with a flask of champagne, three 
 glasses, and Mrs. Faithful, her comely face all smiles. 
 The boy in charge of the favourite being sent out of 
 the way, we all three entered Beefeater's box, and 
 having first of all drank to the speedy recovery of 
 Mr. Frank, together with one or two other toasts 
 appropriate to the occasion, we finally pledged the 
 beautiful colt in front of us. I made the speech myself, 
 I remember. 
 
 'Mrs. Faithful and Job,' said I, ' I now beg to give 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 45 
 
 you the toast of the morning : Here's to the health of 
 Beefeater, winner of this year's Derby, and the best 
 horse in England at the present time !"* 
 
 T have helped to drink a goodish few bottles of 
 champagne in the course of my life, sir, but I don't 
 think I ever enjoyed one half so much as the bottle 
 we three consumed in Beefeater's box that never-to-be- 
 forgotten April morning. 
 
 ' Well, John,' said Sir George that night at dinner, 
 ' are you better ?' 
 
 ' Much better, I thank you. Sir George,' I replied. 
 
 Miss Eva threw me a glance of intelligence, as much 
 as to say, ' Oh, you deceitful old rascal of a Jorum !' 
 
 Well, sir, the time went on. The Two Thousand 
 Guineas (in which Beefeater was not entered) was run 
 for and was carried off in a canter by our rival Mr. 
 Maxwell's colt, Necromancer. So easily indeed did he 
 win that they actually took as little as 7 to 4 about 
 his chance for the Derby. Report even went so far as 
 to credit Mr. Maxwell with saying that he didn't fear 
 Beefeater even if he did run. And, judging by the way 
 he and his friends backed his horse, it certainly looked 
 as if for once rumour was correct. 
 
 Job Faithful, however, was by no means disheartened 
 by the result of the Guineas. ' Necromancer, I grant 
 you, is bound to run well in the Derby,' said he, ' but 
 as for his beating our horse ! Pack o' nonsense ; don't 
 tell me P 
 
 There was no mistaking Job's confidence in his pet. 
 His betting-book (which he was good enough to show 
 me one day) convinced me on that point, so much so 
 that I astonished my friend in London by writing up to 
 
46 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 tell him to put me another twenty pounds on Beefeater 
 for the Blue Riband. 
 
 He wrote back that he had done the commission for 
 me, and was good enough to add that, remembering the 
 old saying ' There's no fool like an old fool," he was well 
 aware it was not of the slightest use his telling me that 
 Beefeater had not a ghost of a chance for the Derby as 
 long as Necromancer kept well. 
 
 ' You never wrote a truer word than that, my boy,** 
 thought L ' We'll see which is the " old fool " when 
 we meet at Epsom Downs after the Derby, and all I can 
 say is, that if it turns out as you say. 111 give you leave 
 to call me one as often as you please."* 
 
 Of course, we — that is. Miss Eva and myself — were 
 now on the look-out for more news. We were not kept 
 very long in suspense, for a week after the first letter I 
 got another (of course, containing an enclosure for Miss 
 Eva), which said that Mr. Frank was so much better 
 that they were going to start for Paris — travelling 
 by easy stages — the very next day. A few days after 
 we heard again, saying that they had duly arrived in 
 that gay city, and were staying at a small out-of-the- 
 way hotel, where they were not likely to meet any of 
 their countrymen. Their plans were to remain there 
 until the Monday in the Derby week, when they would 
 go to London to lodgings where neither was known at 
 all, and there remain ' incog ' until the very last moment, 
 when they would drive down to Epsom. For Mr. Frank 
 was not to show until after the race, when if, as was 
 fondly anticipated. Beefeater won, and there was an 
 objection to him on the grounds previously mentioned, 
 he could at once come to the front and dispel all further 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 47 
 
 doubt on the subject. I should mention that it was con- 
 sidered advisable not to tell Sir George of the surprise 
 in store for him until the Saturday before the race, for 
 fear he should spoil the effect. Oh, there was nothing 
 left out, I can tell you, and I chuckled to myself when 
 I thought of the sweet thing in shocks the confident 
 Mr. Maxwell would receive for his pains if his horse 
 did by chance run second, and he — as he was sure to 
 do — objected to the winner. Why, Lor' bless me, 
 thought I, the poor man will wish that he had never 
 been born, when he catches sight of Mr. Frank with his 
 Crimean beard on him. Well, sir, everything went on 
 just like clockwork. Beefeater had done a rare pre- 
 paration — having, indeed, never been sick nor sorry, and 
 was as fit as it was possible for a racehorse to be. If 
 he did not win it certainly would be no fault of his 
 trainer. Good old Job Faithful, always a modest man, 
 would say, ' You see, he's such a good bit of stuff for 
 a man to work upon, that colt is. Why, he'd almost 
 train himself.' But, as I used to tell Job when he said 
 that, he was fishing for compliments, in my opinion, and 
 he deserved all the credit he got for the horse's splendid 
 condition. 
 
 At four o'clock on the Saturday afternoon, Sir George, 
 sitting moping in the library by himself, was apprised 
 by Miss Eva of Mr. Frank's safety. I knew I should be 
 wanted, so I was in readiness, you may depend, to 
 answer the bell the very instant it rang, which it did 
 before father and daughter had been closeted together 
 ten minutes. 
 
 ' John Jorum,' exclaimed my dear old master, as I 
 entered the room, pretending to be angry with me, and 
 
48 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 with tears of joy standing in his eyes — 'John Jorum, I 
 have just discovered that you are the most deceitful old 
 rascal in the country. How dare you, sir, trick me in 
 this manner for I don't know how long, permitting me 
 to mourn my dear son as dead, when he was alive and 
 merry all the while ? You ought to be ashamed of 
 yourself, John Jorum, and I hope you are. I've a very 
 great mind indeed not to forgive you, and if it wasn't 
 that my daughter is just as bad as you — if not worse — 
 I wouldn't.' 
 
 ' Perhaps, Sir George,' said I, ' you'll kindly look over 
 my offence when Beefeater wins next Wednesday.' 
 
 ' Well, perhaps I may,' rejoined my master in high 
 sood-humour. ' Meanwhile, I feel that I must have a 
 glass of wine to drink everybody's health in, and at 
 once. Fetch it up, John Jorum, fetch it up, confound 
 you, and bring a glass for Miss Eva, and another for 
 yourself at the same time, you old sinner.' 
 
 I quickly returned with a bottle of Madeira (priceless 
 our Madeira was, sir), and we all three drank a glass to 
 the healths of Mr. Frank and Mr. Charles, not forgetting 
 the mighty Beefeater. 
 
 ' I think I could have been trusted to keep the secret,' 
 said Sir George, shaking his head, when we had discussed 
 the affair in all its bearings, ' but, perhaps, after all, it 
 was quite as well for my peace of mind that I was kept 
 in the dark. Anyhow, there is only one thing to be 
 done to make the thing complete, and that is for 
 Beefeater to win the Derby.' 
 
 ' That he is siii^e to do. Sir George,' said I. 
 
 ' Oh, he is, is he T was the rejoinder. ' You're so 
 precious confident about it, that I suppose you've backed 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 49 
 
 him, eh ? Noio I know why it was you kept all this 
 from me ; you were afraid I should forestall you in the 
 market ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! what ?' and Sir George banged 
 his stick on the floor and laughed heartily, in high good- 
 humour at his own joke. 
 
 'That's it. Sir George,' I replied, laughing in my 
 turn, as I left the room, secretly delighted at the turn 
 things had taken, for I had feared at first that the 
 joyful news might have been too much for the good 
 old gentleman to bear. 
 
 I omitted to say that we all three — Sir George, Miss 
 Eva, and I — agreed unanimously that my lady had 
 better not be told until after the race, or she would 
 inevitably spoil all our plans. 
 
 Like the schoolboys who count each day that brings 
 them nearer to the holidays, so did I — now that I knew 
 that everything was plain sailing, no breakers ahead ; 
 in fact, nothing bar accident to stop Beefeater winning 
 the Derby — number off every hour that brought us 
 closer to the eventful day. 
 
 At last it came. Sir George and Miss Eva, with 
 myself in attendance as body servant, journeyed to 
 town on the Tuesday, and drove straight to the hotel 
 in St. James's Street my master was in the habit of 
 using, and where rooms had been secured. 
 
 After dinner that evening, Miss Eva, he and I (they 
 insisted on my accompanying them), paid a surreptitious 
 visit to our two young heroes at their lodgings. Such a 
 meeting as it was ! There was Mr. Frank with a beard 
 on him like a Cossack of the Don, as Sir George said ; 
 rather thin and pale, but quite as cheery as ever ; there 
 was Mr. Charles — well, I simply never saw a young man 
 
 4 
 
50 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 in such spirits as lie was. What a meeting it was ! I 
 declare it makes my old eyes moist when I think of it. 
 When father and sister had done with Mr. Frank they 
 both went at Mr. Charles. 
 
 ' God bless you, my boy !' said Sir George, taking 
 both his hands in his and squeezing them again and 
 again. 
 
 Miss Eva, like the true sweetheart she was, said 
 nothing — her heart was too full for that, bless you — but 
 simply threw her arms round his neck, and, hiding her 
 pretty head on his shoulder, gave vent to her long pent- 
 up feelings in a burst of tears. A pretty pair, sir — a 
 pretty pair as ever you set eyes on, those two were. 
 
 Mr. Frank, understanding the situation, beckoned his 
 father into an adjoining room, and I (not being born 
 yesterday, as the saying is) waited outside in the hall 
 until the lovers had said their say to each other. I 
 don't believe there were five such happy people in 
 London that night as us, I really don't. 
 
 At ten to a minute the next morning there drew up 
 at the hotel door a barouche drawn by four of Mr. 
 Newman's best greys, the horses and postilions wearing 
 rosettes made of Sir George's colours — blue and yellow. 
 Oh, it was a tip-top turn-out I can tell you. Sir George 
 and Miss Eva having got in, and I having mounted the 
 box, away we drove, amidst a cheer from the people 
 standing round, not because they had any special regard 
 for Sir George, but on account of his being the owner of 
 that popular favourite, Beefeater. There being a certain 
 amount of mystery, too, about the horse's running, made 
 it all the more interesting to them, no doubt. 
 
 In due time we drew up at the entrance to the Grand 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 51 
 
 Stand, and we all made our way to Sir George's private 
 box, where waiting for us we found Mr. Frank and 
 Mr. Charles. The latter and my master at once went 
 off to the paddock in search of Job Faithful and Beef- 
 eater, the brother and sister remaining where they were, 
 whilst I, in my capacity of butler, superintended the 
 preparations for luncheon, so that, by getting things 
 ready in plenty of time beforehand, I should be at 
 leisure to attend Sir George when he went to lead the 
 winner in. (You see, sir, how we had ' mapped ' every- 
 thing out.) Just as I had got everything to rights the 
 bell rang to clear the course, and by-and-by back came 
 Sir George and Mr. Charles, the former quite out of 
 breath with his hurried walk from the paddock. 
 
 ' How does Beefeater look ?' inquired Mr. Frank. 
 
 ' Splendid !' exclaimed Sir George. ' Job Faithful 
 is brimful of confidence, and so is Jim Watson (his 
 jockey, sir). Neither of them thinks our horse can 
 possibly be beat."* 
 
 ' And how is Necromancer ? Did you see him ?' was 
 the next question. 
 
 ' I saw him just for a second, and couldn't find a 
 fault,' replied Sir George. 
 
 'Yes, and I saw Maxwell,' struck in Mr. Charles. 
 ' He's pretty confident, too, judging by appearances — 
 the brute ! He'll sing to another tune, though, before 
 another half-hour is over his head.' 
 
 ' Lord, how we'll astonish him ! But here they 
 come. Here's Beefeater ! Look, Eva !' 
 
 ' Oh yes ; how lovely he looks !' exclaimed my young 
 lady, her face lit up with excitement as our horse 
 swept down the course in his preliminary canter. 
 
 4—2 
 
52 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 By-and-by back came the horses, and, having paraded 
 in front of the Grand Stand, once more returned to the 
 paddock on their way to the starting-post. Then came 
 the suspense, if you Hke. I declare I wouldn't go 
 through it again for any amount of money. I will 
 answer for my heart going a good deal more than six- 
 teen to the dozen — I know that. False start after 
 false start there was, one horse — a grey — bolting and 
 kicking and rearing. I thought the brute would never 
 stop. I should have liked to have shot him myself. 
 At last came the cry of ' They'ke off ! ! !' yelled by 
 thousands of voices in unison. Cling, clang ! cling, 
 clang ! went the bell ; and then came almost a dead 
 silence from the vast throng, as the horses were seen 
 streaming up the hill, the grey — the cause of all the 
 delay — hopelessly toiling in the rear, a good last. ' And 
 serve you right, you perverse brute !' I thought to my- 
 self. Down the hill they came ! In another second 
 they were in the straight. Then came the exciting 
 moment. But, Lord bless you, sir, it was all over 
 directly they began the race in earnest ! Our beautiful 
 creature had it in hand the whole way. There was but 
 one cry, and that was ' Beefeater wins ! ! !' He and 
 Necromancer came clean away by themselves, but 
 Mr. Maxwell's horse could never get on anything like 
 terms with ours, and he won, held hard, amidst a per- 
 fect hurricane of cheering, by two lengths, which could 
 have been twenty, so Job Faithful told me afterwards. 
 
 ' Bravo, Beefeater ! Go and lead him in. Sir George,' 
 exclaimed Mr. Charles, 'and look out for Frank and 
 me in the weighing-room. Come on, Frank, my boy ! 
 What, you too, Eva ? All right, darling, why not ? 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 53 
 
 If you haven't the right to pat him, I don'*t know who 
 has.' 
 
 So away Sir George hurried, followed closely by me 
 to look after him ; and meeting his victorious horse just 
 outside, with Job Faithful at his head, trying to look 
 as if it was an everyday occurrence, and failing signally 
 in the attempt, he took hold of the bridle and led the 
 gallant Beefeater to weigh in. 
 
 Down jumped his jockey, off came the saddle in a 
 twinkling, and, followed by Sir George, myself, and 
 Job Faithful (who had left Beefeater in the hands of 
 his head lad), he entered the weighing-room. Down 
 he sat in the scales, with his whip in his hand and the 
 saddle on his knees. 
 
 ' All right !' exclaimed the clerk of the scales a 
 second after. 
 
 ' All right !' I heard repeated outside, and echoed 
 again and again. 
 
 'Not so fast,' said a voice just behind me. I looked 
 round, and there, with a sardonic grin on his white face, 
 stood Mr. Maxwell, the owner of Necromancer. ' Not 
 so fast,' said he again. ' / object to the wmner.'' 
 
 * On what grounds, sir ?'' inquired the clerk of the 
 scales politely. 
 
 ' On the ground that his nominator for the Derby, 
 Mr. Frank Cleveland, is dead. A valid objection 
 enough that, I take it, is it not ?'' 
 
 ' Oh, certainly,' said the obsequious man of the scales. 
 'Perhaps, sir, you will kindly put the objection in 
 writing, so that it can go at once before the stewards.' 
 
 ' All right ; give me a pen,' replied Mr. Maxwell, 
 now all eagerness. 
 
54 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 *Wait a moment, if you please,"* now interrupted 
 Sir George. ' You can prove what you affirm, sir, of 
 course ?' said he, addressing his would-be son-in-law. 
 
 ' I go by public report, Sir George,' replied Maxwell 
 haughtily. 
 
 ' Then let me tell you, sir,' said Sir George, drawing 
 himself up stiffly, ' that both you and public report are 
 xvrong for once in a way. My son, I am happy to say, 
 is alive and well. But here he is to speak for himself. 
 Pray allow me to present him to you. Gentlemen, my 
 son Frank, the nominator of Beefeater for the Derby.' 
 
 So saying. Sir George motioned with his hand towards 
 Mr. Frank, who had been hitherto standing in the back- 
 ground, but who now advanced to the front, whilst at 
 the same time he took oif his hat and made a low bow 
 to the discomfited owner of Necromancer, who, throw- 
 ing a glance of bitter hatred at Frank, and another at 
 Mr. Charles, his successful rival for the hand of Miss 
 Eva, left the room without another word. The news 
 spread like wild-fire, and a perfect burst of cheering 
 greeted Sir George and his son as they left the weigh- 
 ing-room, arm-in-arm. 
 
 ' There, sir,' said John Jorum, rising from his chair, 
 ' I think I have told you all I can tell you about 
 Beefeater's Derby, and I fancy that you'll agree with 
 me that, so far as Mr. Maxwell and his precious 
 Necromancer was concerned, there never was a clearer 
 case of " Sold again." ' 
 
 It may appear strange to the reader that my friend 
 Mr. Flipperly, having been commissioned by the Cleve- 
 land family to compile the facts having reference to 
 
HOW BEEFEATER WON THE DERBY 55 
 
 Beefeater's Derby, should have passed them on to me. 
 He explained this, however, when he informed me that 
 at the last moment his employers changed their minds 
 about making public the story, their reason being that 
 Sir George, a most amiable and kind-hearted gentle- 
 man, was diffident about hurting his rivaPs feelings in 
 any way. Mr. Flipperly, anxious to see himself in 
 print, protested, but it was no use : Sir George was 
 inflexible. So, determined to make some use, at all 
 events, of the interesting facts laid before him by the 
 estimable Mr. Jorum, he sent the MS. on to me, to 
 deal with it as I thought fit. Having first of all 
 taken the precaution of altering the names of the 
 principal performers (a thing the indignant Mr. 
 Flipperly had omitted to do), I now present it in its 
 original form to the reading public, with whom I trust 
 it may meet with approbation. 
 
A SELF-CREATED PEER 
 
 THE LANDLORD'S STORY 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 ' Oh, it's my turn, is it ?' exclaimed the genial landlord 
 of the Crown, Mr. Robert — commonly called ' Bob ' — 
 Macrnum, in answer to a unanimous call on him for a 
 story from the assembled members of the club. ' Oh, 
 ifs my turn, is it .? Very good, gentlemen ; most 'appy 
 to oblige, Fm sure, to the best of my ability, and mortal 
 man can't say no fairer than that, can he, now T 
 
 A general murmur of approval going forth in response 
 to our jolly host's little speech, he lighted for himself 
 a fresh cigar, filled his glass from the bowl of bishop in 
 front of him, smiled pleasantly on the assembled com- 
 pany, and forthwith commenced : 
 
 It was in the early spring-time just fifteen years ago. 
 I had only been occupier of this house just over a 
 twelvemonth, and as it had not then acquired the wide 
 reputation as a hunting establishment — I hope I may 
 say a first-class hunting establishment — that it has now 
 — at least, so they tell me (cries of ' Quite correct. Bob,' 
 
A SELF-CREATED PEER 57 
 
 and ' Hear, hear,' from self and assembled company) — 
 business was, as you may understand, gentlemen, not 
 quite so brisk as I should have liked to have seen it. 
 Well, gentlemen, I had just seen the bus with a couple 
 of ' commercials "* inside off to the station to catch the 
 afternoon express up to town, and having nothing to do 
 and plenty of time to do it in — feeling a trifle hipped, 
 too, as well, perhaps — I thought I would take a stroll 
 through the town, and see how things were going 
 with the neighbours. I hadn't gone very far before I 
 ran up against our old fellow-townsman, John Blade- 
 bone, as good a fellow as he is a butcher, gentlemen, as 
 I think you'll all agree, and I wish he was present to 
 hear me say so. 
 
 ' Bob,' says he, ' you're the very boy I wanted to see. 
 I've just bought the sweetest cob that ever you clapped 
 eyes upon. You know,' says he, 'a bit of good stuff 
 when you see it. Come and have a look at him in his 
 stable and give me your opinion. And I think,' says 
 John, ' you'll say he's a beauty.' 
 
 Well, I went and had a look at the cob, and found 
 him deserving of all the praise his owner had given him. 
 He was a stunner, and no mistake at all about it. I 
 should have liked nothing better than to have given his 
 owner a tenner for his bargain, and told him so. Well, 
 when we had done inspecting the cob, nothing would 
 serve John but I must go into the house along with 
 him and have a friendly glass and a cigar. I couldn't 
 resist this, for our old friend, as you know, gentlemen, 
 is first-class company at all times ; so in I went, and 
 John having produced some tip-top whisky and a box 
 of cigars, down we sat to enjoy ourselves. We were just 
 
58 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 in the middle of a most agreeable chat, when the maid- 
 servant knocked at the door and said someone from the 
 Crown wanted to see me immediately. I hurried out, 
 and there, sure enough, was my Boots waiting for me 
 with a message from the missus that I was wanted back 
 at the hotel at once. A nobleman and his lady, it 
 appeared, had just arrived by the down train, bringing 
 luggage with them enough for twenty, and were order- 
 ing everything in season and out of season for their 
 dinner quite regardless of expense. The whole house 
 was in a commotion in consequence, and the missus 
 nearly out of her mind because I Avasn't on the spot. 
 
 'Oh, the gent is just about a swell, I can tell you, 
 master f wound up Boots, who was apparently as excited 
 as the rest, and no doubt, poor fellow, was already 
 anticipating the great pecuniary benefit there was in all 
 probability in store for him through the advent of the 
 rich nobleman. 
 
 I waited to hear no more, but put my best leg 
 foremost and bustled home as hard as I could go. I was 
 quite out of breath, I remember, when I got there, and 
 had such a stitch in the side that I couldn't speak for a 
 moment or two. 
 
 ' Oh, Robert,' exclaimed my wife, ' where have you 
 been ? Here's the Earl of Ballinasloe and his lady just 
 arrived (a honeymoon, I'm nearly certain. Bob), and his 
 lordship is asking all manner of questions about the 
 wine and other things ; do go up to him at once, there's 
 a good man.' 
 
 Up I went, you may depend, titivating up my hair 
 with a pocket-comb on my way upstairs. 
 
 * Come in, and be hanged to ye !' roared a voice, as I 
 
A SELF-CREATED PEER 59 
 
 knocked in a respectful manner at the door of the best 
 sitting-room. 
 
 I entered, and there sprawling on the sofy, with a 
 large cigar in his mouth, and a brandy-and-soda on a 
 table by his side, was the smartest dressed gent I ever 
 set eyes on. A man about forty, I should say, with a 
 red face and plenty of black hair and whiskers, and such 
 a lot of jewellery ! I don't think I ever see such a 
 quantity on one of our sex before. As for his hands 
 (which I could not help noticing were none of the 
 cleanest) you could hardly see the fingers because of the 
 rings that covered them. 
 
 ' Hah,"* says he, sticking an eye-glass in his eye and 
 looking me up and down in, I thought, a most super- 
 cilious manner, more as if I was some strange wild 
 beast than anything else. ' I suppose you are the land- 
 lord, aren't you ?'' 
 
 I bowed assent. 
 
 ' Oh, you are, are you ; well, youVe been long enough 
 coming, upon my soul ! And now you have come, what 
 have you got, pray, for dinner ?** 
 
 ' Soup, fish, a nice dish of cutlets or a roast fowl and 
 bacon, or "' 
 
 ' Tcha r he exclaimed angrily, waving his hand with a 
 gesture of supreme disdain. ' Tcha ! don't for goodness 
 sake, my dear man, go through that stale old formula^ 
 It makes me positively sick, it does, indeed. Til put up 
 with this sort of thing just for once in a way, to-night ; 
 but I warn you, if you expect me to stop in this place 
 for three weeks or more, as I intended doing if I was 
 comfortable, you'll have to find something better than 
 this sort of thing for my lady and me to eat. I did 
 
60 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 think of bringing my own cook, a French chef, with 
 me, but I was rather anxious to see what sort of fare 
 you innkeepers give the poor devils of travellers who 
 condescend to stay with you.' 
 
 ' We'll do the best we can, my lord, for you, I do 
 assure you,"* said I, quite overawed by his magnificent 
 way of speaking. ' At this season of the year we are 
 rather quiet, my lord, and your lordship's arrival came 
 upon us rather by way of a surprise, my lord ; but any- 
 thing we can get for you, that is possible to be got, 
 shall be got, you may depend, my lord.' 
 
 ' Very good,' said my noble guest. ' Then I may as 
 well tell you that I make a point of never sitting down 
 to dinner without turtle soup — clear turtle, mind — and 
 from one place only, the Ship and Turtle, Leadenhall 
 Street, London. Write for some immediately, do you 
 hear.? Asparagus, too, both her ladyship and myself are 
 particularly partial to, and it is essential for it to be of 
 the finest and best to be had in the market, otherwise 
 we can't touch it. Salmon also we like, and lamb — 
 grass lamb, mind — and if you can get some strawberries 
 (' Strawberries !' thought I, ' why they're about a guinea 
 apiece I should imagine just now') so much the better. 
 Now about your wines. I drink champagne always for 
 dinner, taking a little hock with my fish. Have you 
 any Giesler 1874 in your cellar ? because if you haven't, 
 you'd better lay in some at once. Claret I don't drink 
 much, and as yours is pretty sure to be poison, we'll say 
 nothing about it. I forgot to mention that we always 
 like an ice pudding every night, with which I always 
 myself take a glass of cura^oa and brandy mixed. Her 
 ladyship takes maraschino. And that will do now, 
 
A SELF-CREATED PEER 61 
 
 Mr. Magnum," wound up my lord. ' Dinner at seven 
 sharp, mind, and see that you give us a good one."* 
 
 I was glad to get away, I can tell you, for my brain 
 was all in a whirl with the long list of my lord's 
 requirements. Away I went downstairs, two steps at a 
 time, just stopping in the bar for a glass of brandy-and- 
 water warm to pick me up a bit, and then off into the 
 town to see about dinner. 
 
 I felt I couldn't quite depend on our own cook, who 
 was rather of a rough-and-ready description, and not 
 possessing a soul above chops and steaks ; so I obtained 
 the services of the professional cook of Barleyford, old 
 Mrs. Skimmers — you'll remember her. Eve no doubt, 
 gentlemen. She used to go out cooking a deal at one 
 time amongst the gentry round about, and a first-class 
 cook she was, especially if you gave her plenty of her 
 favourite tap when she was conducting her culinary 
 operations. The quantity of Old Tom that that dear 
 old lady could put away when she was cooking you'd 
 scarcely believe, gentlemen, unless you had seen it. 
 
 Well, the dinner went off satisfactorily in every way, 
 much to our delight, as you may fancy, for we were on 
 tenterhooks about it ; and my lord sent word by John 
 that both he and her ladyship were very pleased. 
 
 John came down and said they were the two best 
 hands at a knife and fork he had ever seen, and he added 
 that he didn't think what was left in the bottles would 
 make a fly drunk. 
 
 Determined not to leave a stone unturned to make my 
 swell guests comfortable, I wrote off to London for every 
 luxury there was in season or out of it, including an 
 unlimited order to Messrs. Faynter for turtle soup ; and 
 
62 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 having engaged Mrs. Slummers for the whole of their 
 stay, I went to bed that night feeling mighty well 
 satisfied with myself. 
 
 In the course of next morning pretty nigh every one 
 of the tradesmen I knew in Barley ford looked in for a 
 glass and to hear the latest news about the rich stranger, 
 whose arrival was quite ' the talk o' the town,** as the 
 saying is. The fact was that Joe, the Boots, on the 
 strength of the half a crown that the noble lord had 
 chucked him for taking up his luggage on his arrival, 
 had gone and spread such stories about him all over the 
 place as never were. It was as much as I could do to 
 make Joe ordinarily attentive to the commercials stay- 
 ing in the house, and two of them, indeed, complained 
 to me about him during their stay. He hadn't even 
 blacked their boots properly, they said. 
 
 I felt rather proud of my visitors myself, I must say, 
 and on John Bladebone and old Tommy Cripps, the 
 barber, that's dead and gone — him that was clerk of the 
 course to our races, as you may recollect — coming into 
 the bar, I asked 'em into my snuggery, and insisted on 
 their partaking of a bottle of champagne at my expense, 
 just to drink luck to the house. Well, old Tommy 
 Cripps was a dry old stick as ever lived, and nothing 
 pleased him better, as I dare say some of you remember, 
 than disparaging anything that anybody else thought 
 a deal of. If you bought a horse, for instance, and 
 asked Tommy's opinion of it, he was perfectly certain 
 to run him down, though he really liked him as much 
 as you did yourself, and would walk off, leaving one 
 perfectly mad at his remarks. That is just what he 
 did in the present instance. 
 
A SELF-CREATED PEER 63 
 
 He listened most attentively, with his head cocked 
 on one side, like a parrot, as usual, without saying a 
 word, whilst I was giving a glowing account of my 
 noble visitor and his magnificent ways. Then he began, 
 in his usual style : 
 
 ' He is an Irishman, you say, Mr. Magnum ?' says he. 
 
 ' I suppose so,' I replied ; ' he told me that he lived, 
 when he was at home, at Ballinasloe Castle, somewhere 
 or another in Ireland ; I forget exactly what the name 
 of the county was. He only goes there for the snipe 
 shooting, he says." 
 
 ' Ah,' croaked Tommy, ' I hope, for your sake, my 
 good friend, that your noble visitor's estate ain't in 
 " Airshire." You're a good-natured, easy man. Bob, I 
 know,' he went on, ' and consequently easily took in. 
 and, if you'll take my advice, my friend, you'll send in 
 your bill at the end of the week, sharp.'' 
 
 ' Why, you don't mean to insinuate that the noble 
 lord ahit a noble lord, do you ?' exclaimed I, an uncom- 
 fortable sensation, just like a lot of cold water being 
 thrown down my back, coming over me at the mere 
 notion of such a thing. 
 
 ' I insinuate nothing,' replied Tommy ; ' I only say 
 be careful, that's all. No harm in saying that much, I 
 s'pose T And with that the old croaker bid us good- 
 morning, and took himself off. 
 
 And a good job, too, thought I to myself, you nasty, 
 mischief-making old beggar, you ! Left to myself, 
 however, I began to ruminate over what Tommy had 
 said, for, with all his love of saying disagreeable things, 
 I knew him to be as shrewd an old chap as you would 
 find in a day's march. Just as I was busy with the aid 
 
64 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 of a toothpick (a great assistance I always fancy on 
 such occasions) turning the matter over in my mind, 
 John, the waiter, appeared with a message from my 
 lord to say that he would thank me to come upstairs 
 and speak to him for a moment. 
 
 I stepped up accordingly, and, entering the room, 
 found myself in the presence, not of my lord, but her 
 ladyship as well. 
 
 Have I described him ? Well, if I haven% he was 
 not unlike Lord Dundreary, if you can imagine that 
 eccentric nobleman without a moustache. My lady 
 (who I now beheld for the first time) I know I haven't. 
 She was young, and, to my mind, pretty, certainly ; but 
 she somehow didn't seem to have that dwtangy appear- 
 ance with her that one expects in a bred and born 
 aristocrat ; she seemed a bit ill at ease, too, and shock- 
 ing untidy about her feet. Nothing looks so slovenly, 
 in my opinion, in anyone — man or woman — as shoes 
 down at heel. However, I didn't think much of that. 
 I had always been given to understand the Irish were 
 a slovenly lot, and no doubt, thought I, my lord, like 
 many a sprig of nobility before him, had married a 
 trifle beneath him in station. 
 
 When she opened her mouth, though, I felt more 
 convinced than before that her birth was hardly on the 
 same level as her husband's, for, addressing him as 
 Dinny, she suggested that perhaps the gentleman 
 (meaning me) would like to join him in a glass of wine. 
 
 And when he gave her a frown, as much as to say, 
 * Don't be a fool !' she turned crusty at once, and told 
 him not to be so 'igh and mighty all of a sudding — 
 she spoke just like that. This I thought queer, very 
 
A SELF-CREATED PEER 65 
 
 queer. However, as long as he was all right, what did 
 it matter what she was ? I said to myself. Why, I had 
 heard of noblemen marrying dairymaids and suchlike 
 before now, and, for what I knew, she might be one of 
 the same sort. 
 
 Well, gentlemen, Lord and Lady Ballinasloe had 
 been with us exactly a week, during which period my 
 lord devoted his time between driving about to all the 
 places of interest in the neighbourhood and living on 
 the fat of the land. They did eat and drink to some 
 tune, I can tell you. Very affable they both were, too, 
 always asking me or my wife to come upstairs and have 
 a glass of wine. 
 
 Meanwhile, old Tommy Cripps, who made a point of 
 dropping in at least once a day, kept shaking his head 
 and badgering one with his dark hints as to the solvency 
 of my lord. ' You take my advice,** he kept on saying : 
 ' send in the bill at the end of the week, just the same 
 as you would to any other stranger. A lord, indeed ! 
 Blow lords, I say !"* 
 
 Well, Tommy worried me to that extent that when 
 the week was up I really do believe I shoidd have sent 
 in my little account had it not been for a circumstance 
 that occurred that very morning, which had the effect 
 of putting me completely at my ease. The aristocratic 
 pair had gone out for a carriage drive directly after 
 luncheon, and John, going into their sitting-room, saw 
 something which attracted his attention. He picked it 
 up, and lo and behold! it was a hundred pound Bank 
 of England note. 
 
 He promptly pocketed it, and when my lord came 
 in he asked him if he had lost such an article. 
 
 5 
 
66 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 ' Stop a minute and Fll see,' said his lordship, pulling 
 out an elaborate note-case, which John said was crammed 
 with paper-money. 
 
 My lord looked through this, and then, turning to 
 John, told him that a hundred pounder was missing 
 sure enough. So John handed him the one he had 
 picked up, receiving in return a sovereign for his 
 honesty. He came down into the bar and related the 
 circumstance just as I was in the act of making out my 
 lord's bill, which, on hearing this little story of the 
 waiter, I promptly put away in my drawer, wondering 
 at the same time I could have been such an ass as to 
 listen to that venomous old Tommy Cripps, whose 
 interference I put down to envy at my good fortune, 
 and nothing else. 
 
 To make a long story short, they stopped with me 
 exactly three weeks. My bill was asked for about an 
 hour before they left, and having taken it up myself, 
 my lord, merely looking at the total, wrote me out a 
 cheque for ^£^150, the amount being £1^4i 10s. He 
 expressed himself very well pleased at his stay, said 
 they had both been extremely comfortable, and added 
 that he should have the greatest pleasure in recom- 
 mending the house to any of his friends who were 
 moving that way — in fact, behaved quite as a peer of 
 the realm should do. Finally, having received his 
 change, and, as I heard afterwards, given a liberal 
 douceur to all the servants, away he and my lady drove 
 to the station, en route to London. 
 
 Old Tommy Cripps was in the bar at the time and 
 saw them start ; and when I came in, all smiles, from 
 seeing them off, he croaked out in his usual style : 
 
A SELF-CREATED PEER 67 
 
 'Well, so your lord's gone. Has he paid you all 
 right, eh ?' 
 
 ' Of course he has ; look at that if you don't believe 
 me,' I replied, taking my lord's cheque from my waist- 
 coat pocket and flourishing it before his eyes. 
 
 ' Ugh !' sneered Tommy ; ' that ain't only a bit o' 
 paper, that ain't. Don't yer be too sartin, friend 
 Bobby ; it ain't honoured yet.' 
 
 With which reminder Tommy Cripps finished his 
 whisky-and-water with a growl, and slunk off with his 
 hands behind his back as usual. 
 
 You'll hardly believe it, gentlemen, but I'll be hanged 
 if old Tommy wasn't right, after all ! The cheque 
 being a ' crossed ' one, had to go through my banker's 
 hands in the usual course, and you can imagine my 
 horror and disgust when, two days afterwards, the draft 
 was returned with ' Account closed ' scrawled upon it. 
 
 ' Good Lord !' ejaculated Mr. Snapper, managing 
 clerk to old Sheepskin, the lawyer ; ' and didn't you 
 ever see your money, Mr. Magnum ?' 
 
 ' Mr. Snapper and gentlemen,' replied Bob Magnum, 
 ' I am glad to say that by a great stroke of good luck 
 I was able to recover all of it, and if you will allow me 
 a few moments' grace just to recover myself — for long 
 ago though it was, I can assure you the bare recollection 
 of that audacious swindle quite unmans me — I will tell 
 you how I managed it.' 
 
 5—2 
 
68 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 CHAPTER II / 
 
 MR. MAGNUM RESUMES HIS STORY 
 
 Well, gentlemen (said Bob Magnum, who, having 
 drunk a glass of bishop and lit a cigar, had now 
 recovered his equanimity) — well, gentlemen, as you 
 may imagine, I was about as wild as a man could be 
 when I found out how I had been done, and what with 
 old Tommy Cripps's ' I told you so,' and ' Now, didn't 
 I tell you all along how it would be ?' and my friends'* 
 chaff and condolences (which were the worst of all), I 
 felt as if before long I must knock somebody's head 
 against the wall. I employed detectives, I advertised, 
 I did everything that I could think of to find my late 
 visitors, but all to no purpose. The only result after 
 a lot of expense being to discover what I already 
 knew — that there was no such ornament to the 
 Peerage as Lord Ballinasloe. So I let the whole 
 business slide, and made up my mind to grin and bear 
 it. It was the only thing, in fact, I could do. It was 
 a lesson to me, of course, to be more careful in the 
 future. Well, a year had gone by, and I had almost 
 forgotten my woes, when one day — the hunting season 
 being over, and business rather slack in consequence — 
 having some affairs to see to in London, I thought it 
 would be a good time for me to run up and attend to 
 them. Accordingly up to town I went, and on my 
 arrival put up at a quiet hotel off the Strand, where I 
 was in the habit of going whenever business or pleasure 
 took me that way. Well, the day after my amval, 
 
A SELF-CREATED PEER 69 
 
 having transacted some business in the City, I was 
 walking westward to have a look at the shops, when 
 who should I run up against in Ludgate Circus but an 
 old friend of mine, Jimmy Sloman by name, who I 
 hadn't set eyes on for years and years. Oh, we were 
 glad to see each other, I can tell you ! He had been to 
 Australia, he told me, made money there, and had 
 just come back to the old country to settle down for 
 good, and by way of occupation (for he said, though 
 he had plenty to live upon independently, he was not 
 the man to care to spend his time in doing nothing) 
 had taken an hotel at the w^est end of the town, with 
 every prospect of its paying its way handsomely. 
 
 * My wife,' said Jimmy, ' is a capital manager ; a 
 niece of ours — such a hand at figures, Bob, and good- 
 looking as well — keeps the books ; and last, but not 
 least, I have got, far and away I verily believe, 
 the very best head waiter in England, let alone 
 London. 
 
 ' But I won't go on praising up my own shop any 
 more,' says Jimmy; 'you shall come and judge for 
 yourself, and this very moment, too. One doesn't meet 
 with an old friend like you every day in the week. 
 Come, where are you stopping. Bob ? because we'll go 
 there straight (Oh yes, I will have my way. My wife 
 would never forgive me if I didn't bring you back along 
 with me), and you shall put your traps together, and 
 we'll charter a cab to my place so as to get there in 
 time for three o'clock dinner. We'll just turn in here 
 and have a drink, and then off we go !' 
 
 And Jimmy seized me by the arm in the impulsive 
 manner I knew of old. Knowing my man and that 
 
70 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 resistance was useless, I resigned myself entirely into 
 his hands for the rest of my sojourn in London. 
 
 A fast-going hansom cab quickly landed us at my old 
 friend's hotel, which turned out to be a moderate- sized 
 one, with an old-established and fashionable connec- 
 tion, patronized seemingly entirely by the aristocracy, 
 and situated in the neighbourhood of Grosvenor 
 Square. 
 
 Jimmy first proceeded to do the honours by introduc- 
 ing me — his oldest and dearest friend he was good 
 enough to call me — to his wife, an active and bustling 
 little woman, from whom I received a most cordial 
 welcome. Next, the niece was trotted out for my 
 benefit, and I found her — as regards her personal 
 charms, at least — all my friend had described her and 
 more. After that we went to dinner, friend Jimmy 
 remarking as we sat down that ' the one and only waiter,' 
 as he called him, was busy at that moment attending 
 to the private rooms, so I must wait to have a look 
 at him until after we had finished our meal. 
 
 ' He's a treasure, I do assure you,' said he, ' and Fm 
 proud of him, I can tell you. My only fear is that one 
 of these fine days one of the aristocrats who patronize 
 my hotel will entice him away. Several of them have 
 tried it on already, but hitherto he has shown no sign 
 of wanting to go.' 
 
 ' An Englishman ?' inquired I. 
 
 ' No, Lish,' he replied, ' and one of the right sort, 
 too, for he is an Orangeman to the backbone. Ai'e you 
 partial to the Irish, Bob ?' said my host. 
 
 ' Well, no,' replied I ; ' I can't say I am. I never was 
 particularly fond of them, and a native of the distressful 
 
A SELF-CREATED PEER 71 
 
 country served me out so, not a great while ago, that 
 I have hated the name of an Irishman ever since. And 
 when I tell you all the circumstances, I don't think you 
 will wonder at my antipathy/ 
 
 By this time, dinner being finished, the ladies made 
 the excuse of wanting to go and attend to their respec- 
 tive duties for leaving us; so Jimmy and I settled 
 ourselves down in a brace of comfortable arm-chairs for 
 a long chat over old times, with the agreeable accom- 
 paniment of coffee and cigars. 
 
 Jimmy having opened the ball by giving me a full 
 and circumstantial account of his colonial experiences — 
 in fact, all about himself since we had last met — it now 
 became my turn, and I forthwith proceeded to pour 
 into my host's sympathetic ears a full account of my 
 experience with the impostor from Ireland. 
 
 ' Well,' said Jimmy, when I had finished, ' that 
 beats cock-fighting anyhow, that does. To finish up, 
 too, by robbing you of a pony ! I don't wonder,' he 
 went on, 'you lamented a bit. I should, I know, if 
 such a thing happened to me. Ah, it's a sad pity you 
 hadn't had a head-waiter like my man, Dennis Maloney. 
 Your sham nobleman wouldn't have inhabited the best 
 rooms at the Crown many days, I'll go bail. You 
 say you set the detectives on to him, but they did no 
 good. I am not surprised at that. Meanwhile, though, 
 tell me what the fellow was like ; it's just on the cards 
 that Dennis, with his wide experience of London life, 
 may be able to " spot " him for you. At all events, 
 there is no harm in trying, is there T 
 
 ' Not a bit,' replied I. And I was just beginning a 
 description of Lord Ballinasloe, when a gentle knock 
 
72 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 was heard at the door, and a voice, which somehow 
 seemed familiar to me, said with a decidedly Irish 
 accent : 
 
 ' Can I speak with you a minute, sorr ?"* 
 
 ' Oh, it's you, is it, Dennis ?' exclaimed my host. 
 ' Come in, will you ?' 
 
 ' My prize head-waiter,' whispered Jimmy. 
 
 And in obedience to the summons in walked — who 
 do you think, gentlemen ? 
 
 Why, as I'm a living sinner, the very man we were 
 talking about, the hotel swindler. Lord Ballinasloe, as 
 he called himself. Yes, there he was, just the same as 
 ever, with the exception that he was in evening clothes 
 and minus his numerous rings. 
 
 Directly the rascal caught sight of me he looked 
 ready to drop with fright, whilst I myself was so 
 astounded I could not find utterance for words, and as 
 for poor Jimmy, he stared from one to the other with 
 his mouth open, wondering what on earth was the 
 matter, as well he might. 
 
 I was the first to recover myself, and addressing Mr. 
 Dennis Maloney, I said, in a stern voice, ' Your master 
 was just telling me, as you entered the room, that you 
 might be able to lay your hands on a scoundrel of the 
 same nationality as yourself, calling himself Lord 
 Ballinasloe, who, a year ago, came and stayed at my 
 hotel in the country, and swindled me out of a large 
 sum of money. There is, I know, a warrant out 
 against him, but I should, of course, prefer to hush the 
 matter up if I could get some of his money. Do you 
 think you could be of any assistance to me in the 
 matter ?' 
 
A SELF-CREATED PEER 73 
 
 ' I know I could, sorr," was the confident reply. ' If 
 I could have a word with you in private, I think I 
 could aise yer mind, sorr, with regard to the money in 
 rather less than a pig's whisper, as we say in the old 
 counthry.' 
 
 ' Can I have Mr. Maloney to myself for a minute or 
 two ?'' said I to Jimmy. 
 
 ' By all means,' was the reply ; ' I'll leave the room. 
 He'll get it for you, if anyone can,' whispered my 
 host as he took his departure. 
 
 My story is at an end, gentlemen. You perhaps 
 will not be surprised to hear that before Mr. Dennis 
 Maloney and I parted company he was the loser and I 
 the gainer of the exact amount of the bill run up at the 
 Crown by the erratic Lord Ballinasloe. 
 
 When Jimmy returned ten minutes afterwards, he 
 naturally wanted to know the reason why his head- 
 waiter and I seemed so surprised to meet each other. 
 
 As I did not want to expose the man, I left the 
 ex-nobleman to explain the reason in his own way, and 
 he did it in a way that spoke volumes for his readiness 
 of resource. 
 
 ' I have the misfortune, sorr,' said he, addressing 
 Jimmy, ' to possess a twin brother as like meself as two 
 payse. He it was, the blayguard, who wint down to 
 this gintleman's hotel and passed himself off as a lord. 
 And in order to save me brother from disgrace, sorr, 
 Misther Magnum has kindly permitted me to pay the 
 amount of the dit, sorr. And I now hope, sorr, for me 
 own credit's sake, sorr, to hear no more of the matter.' 
 And with a low and deferential bow to each of us. Lord 
 Ballinasloe's twin brother left the room. 
 
74 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 ' There !' exclaimed Jimmy Sloman delightedly, 
 ' didn't I tell you what a clever chap he was ? And 
 what a good -hearted fellow, too ! Fancy paying that 
 good-for-nothing brother's debt to you, like that ! It's 
 more than I would have done. Oh, what a treasure 
 that man is, to be sure !' 
 
 ' Yes, and what a rascal !' thought I. 
 
A TERRIBLE NIGHT 
 
 THE VALET'S STORY 
 
 Amongst the occasional visitors to the Club was a smart, 
 dandified, rather supercilious young man rejoicing in 
 the name of Snobley — Charles Snobley — his occupation 
 in life being to serve Colonel Arden, of Arden Court, in 
 the capacity of valet and body-servant. Whenever — 
 which was not very often — he condescended to spend an 
 evening at the Club he was invariably, I noticed, greeted 
 by the other members with, ' Well, Mr. Snobley, and 
 how's your friend the gamekeeper ? Pretty well, eh ? 
 Have you challenged him to a duel yet ?' etc., all 
 of which badinage the recipient received with much 
 disfavour, to the evident amusement of the com- 
 pany. 
 
 The valet had evidently a strong grievance against 
 some gamekeeper unknown, and curious to find out 
 what it was, I made inquiries of the chairman of the 
 evening. Bob Magnum, one night when the valet was 
 present. 
 
 ' He shall tell you himself, directly, sir,' whispered 
 Bob. ' It's the greatest lark out to hear him upon the 
 
76 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 subject. Lord ! he did have a night of it, I can tell 
 you/ chuckled Bob. 
 
 A minute or two afterwards he knocked on the table 
 with the presidential hammer, and having obtained 
 silence, said, ' Gentlemen, our mutual friend Mr. Snobley 
 has not obliged lately. I have to call on him for a song 
 or story."* 
 
 ' Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen,' said the swell valet in 
 reply, ' I shall be most ^appy to oblige, but I must beg 
 you to excuse a vocal heff brt on my part this evening, as 
 my voice, I regret to say, is, owing to a slight " guitar," 
 rather so-so ; but I shall be proud to do my best in the 
 story-telling line, if you will kindly give me a few 
 moments'* law to think over my " rapatwore,'' as I may 
 say.' 
 
 ' Give us your nocturnal adventure with Mr. Mallard, 
 Charles,' said Bob Magnum, winking at me. 
 
 ' Hear, hear ! Bravo, Bob !' ' Yes, Mr. Mallard ! Mr. 
 Mallard !' cried the assembled members in high appro- 
 bation at the selection made by our host. 
 
 ' Very good, gentlemen,' replied the valet, with an air 
 of Christian resignation. ' It is, as you know, rather a 
 sore subject with me, but Mr. Mallard you shall have by 
 all means, if you wish it.' 
 
 Accordingly, having taken a sip from his glass of 
 punch, and cleared his throat with a genteel cough, 
 he proceeded to relate for our benefit the following 
 adventure : 
 
 I don't suppose if you went the length of England 
 through and through, and Scotland and Ireland and 
 Wales as well for that matter, you'd find three more 
 
A TERRIBLE NIGHT 77 
 
 mischievous (micheevious the narrator pronounced it) 
 lads than the three young Master Ardens, of Arden 
 Court, when they came home for the Christmas holidays 
 a twelvemonth ago. I don't really think you'd have 
 matched 'em anywhere. What made 'em worse, in my 
 opinion was that they went to three different schools 
 — Eton, Harrow, and Rugby ; consequently, being 
 separated so long, they were doubly glad to see one 
 another when they met, and therefore worked extra 
 well together. 
 
 They say the Colonel's reason for this was because he 
 said if they all went to the same school they would 
 probably fight, as brothers always do. Now, generally 
 speaking, you find, when there are several sons in a 
 family, that they have different dispositions : one per- 
 haps studious and fond of books ; one idle and partial 
 to low company ; another with a ' ponshong ' for rabbits 
 and guinea-pigs, and so on ; but these three I'm telling 
 you about were all alike. Bless you, there wasn't a 
 bookworm amongst 'em. No ; manly games — shootin', 
 huntin', and mischief, was their ' forty.' 
 
 As Mr. Bom pas (that's our butler — and a very stout 
 man) remarked one day when one of 'em laid down flat 
 outside the drawing-room door and upset him as he came 
 out with a tray full of tea-things (you should just have 
 heard the smash !), they were regular young Behellzebubs, 
 and nothing else. And just about the right age, too, 
 these were — eleven, thirteen, and fourteen respectively. 
 Well, as I have said, home they came from school 
 for the Christmas holidays, riper for a bit of fun 
 than ever. When I tell you that they went so far 
 as to make an apple-pie bed for their pa, the 
 
78 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 Colonel, you may imagine that they did not stick at a 
 trifle. 
 
 ' What did the Colonel say T 
 
 AVhat did he not say, you mean. In course he wanted 
 somebody to vent his rage upon, and so I caught it. As 
 if it was my fault ! The boys, too, heard of it the next 
 morning, you may depend. ' Play as many tricks as 
 you like on other people," says he (so the footman told 
 me), ' but not on me if you please ; besides, I reely do 
 think you might draw the line at your father, you dis- 
 respectful young hounds, you !' They promised never 
 to do such a thing again, and there, the very next 
 minute, if I didn't catch Master Eddie — that's the 
 youngest but one — extracting of the shot from the 
 ColonePs cartridges. 
 
 ' Whatever are you doing now, Mr. Eddie .?' says I. 
 
 ' All right. You mind your own business, Chawles ' 
 — they always called me Chawles for some reason or 
 other — was the young rascaPs reply. ' I'm only arrang- 
 ing for the governor to shoot straight, Chawles. My 
 eye ! What fun it'll be to see him stamp his foot and 
 swear ! Up '11 get a cock pheasant, Chawles. Bang ! 
 goes the guv'nor's right-hand barrel ; bang ! goes the 
 left. On goes the cock pheasant as jolly as possible. 
 " Damn the gun !" roars pa ; " I declare I can't shoot a 
 bit with the damn thing." And then he puts some 
 more of my cartridges in, Chawles, and then he'll miss 
 another cock pheasant, or pr'aps a woodcock, and 
 then ' 
 
 ' And then — he'll thrash you within an inch of your 
 life, you infernal young scamp !' roared forth the ringing 
 voice of the Colonel, who had, unbeknown to us, been 
 
A TERRIBLE NIGHT 79 
 
 outside the door all the time, listening to every word ; 
 and, suiting the action to the word, he made a 
 grab at Master Eddie, seized him by the collar, and 
 gave him such a dressing with the dog whip he 
 invariably carried in his shooting - jacket pocket as 
 made the young limb laugh the wrong side of his mouth, 
 I can tell you. Well, as I had plenty of spare time every 
 day during the young gents' holidays, the Colonel 
 requested me to accompany them when they went out 
 with their guns, as they did almost every day, with 
 orders to keep my eye on them and not let them get 
 into mischief more than I could help. And being fond 
 of shooting, though I had not been brought up to that 
 sort of thing, I rather liked the job on the whole, and I 
 should have liked it a good deal better if they hadn't 
 been so rampagious. When they couldn't play tricks 
 on anyone else, bless you, they were quite content to 
 make fun of me. This is the sort of thing they'd do : 
 One day we were walking through a small plantation 
 trying to get a shot at some wood-pigeons, when bang 
 went Master Eddie's gun, followed by a series of the 
 most awful cries and groans you ever heard. ' Oh, I'm 
 shot ! I'm shot !' I heard him cry. My 'art flew to my 
 mouth at the sound. Away I rushed through the 
 brambles, tearing my clothes, scratching my face, and 
 half blinded by a twig which had stuck in my eye. And 
 when I got to the spot, there was young Eddie, as well 
 as I was, and roaring with laughter at the fright I had 
 put myself in on his account. 
 
 Another day when the three young gents and myself 
 and one of the under-keepers were all out ferreting 
 rabbits, young Reginald — that's the eldest — sings out to 
 
80 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 me, ' Just pop your head into the hole, will you, and 
 see if you can hear 'em moving.'' 
 
 Keen as mustard, down I went on my knees, though 
 it was awfully muddy ; and as I was listening at the 
 mouth of the hole, with my head on one side like a 
 terrier, what does that nice boy Master Reginald do but 
 take a ferret and make it lay hold of my ear. I jumped 
 up with a yell, with the ferret hanging on like grim 
 death, and danced about with pain like a madman, the 
 three boys and the keeper all looking on laughing ready 
 to kill themselves. I should think it was fully five 
 minutes before they got the brute off, and then only by 
 half throttling him, and not before he had nearly bitten 
 my ear off. Oh, I was angry, I can tell you, and if it 
 hadn't been that they promised faithfully never to play 
 any more tricks on me, I wouldn't have gone out with 
 'em again, fond as I was of a bit of sport. 
 
 I used to enjoy, too, looking on when the Colonel 
 had a battue. Sometimes I would load for him, and 
 carry his cartridges, and sometimes join the beaters. 
 
 There was only one drawback to my happiness on 
 these occasions, and that was the overbearing manner 
 and insulting behaviour generally towards me of the 
 head-keeper, Ralph Mallard. I will show the fellow 
 up, gentlemen, very shortly. He might have been 
 (and I don't say he was not, mind) a very good game- 
 keeper, but personally I have no hesitation in saying 
 that he was a Beast — a nasty, tobacco-chewing vulgar 
 Beast !* 
 
 * Note by Author. — Mr. Cliawles Snobley not only said it but 
 meant it, judging- by the blow he gave the table with his fist, by 
 way of emphasizing the epithet applied to the offending Mr. 
 Mallard. 
 
A TERRIBLE NIGHT 81 
 
 Mr. Mallard, gentlemen, had at one period of his 
 career served in the Royal Navy in the capacity first of 
 all of a common seaman before the mast, and afterwards 
 as bo'sun. A great big bearded chap he was, with a 
 voice like a foghorn and the manners of a pig, except 
 when he was addressing the Colonel his master, or the 
 other gentry, when he was all civility itself, and it was 
 ' Yes, your honour,' ' No, your honour,"* all over the 
 place. 
 
 Well, this Mallard for some reason — best known to 
 himself — took a dislike to me, and never lost an oppor- 
 tunity of showing it, and in the most offensive manner. 
 
 ' Keep in line, you swab, you !' he bawled out to me 
 one day when I was good-naturedly helping to beat for 
 them. 
 
 ' Who are you calling a swab ?' I replied. 
 
 ' Why, you, to be sure ; you ' Well, I won''t 
 
 repeat the other words, gentlemen ; they would only 
 shock you, as they did me. I will merely say that he 
 made very poor reflections on my parentage, his lan- 
 guage implying that my origin, on the mother's side, 
 was traceable to the canine species — in other words, 
 ' the dog.' 
 
 Another time, when in the excitement of the moment 
 I mistook a blackbird for a woodcock, and shouted 
 accordingly, he insulted me in the most shocking 
 manner. 
 
 ' Don't you hanswer me, you breeches-cleaning, boot- 
 blacking son of a sea-cook !' he roared, ' or I'll tie you 
 up to that there tree, and give three dozen with this 
 here hash-stick, for want of a rope-end, strike me ugly 
 if I don't !' 
 
 6 
 
82 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 I may here remark, gentlemen, that this latter obser- 
 vation of the feller's was quite out of place, for he 
 was, without exception, the ugliest man I ever set eyes 
 on — painfully so, indeed, with his snub nose, his pock- 
 marked face, which always reminded me of a sieve, and 
 his carroty hair and beard, for all the world like a 
 dilapidated door-mat. I really can't account for Mr. 
 Mallard's aversion to me, unless it was that he was 
 jealous of my going out a-shooting so much with the 
 young gentlemen. No doubt he would have liked to 
 have had them given into his charge, instead of me, 
 but the Colonel knew his man, you may depend, gentle- 
 men — he knew his man. 
 
 The inference, I think, is obvious. 
 
 Well, gentlemen, it was just after Christmas. Arden 
 Court was full of guests, and there had been a lively 
 time of it for everybody, something going on every 
 night ; and the three young gentlemen, so far from 
 being bilious and dyspeptic, like most people would 
 have been had they partaken of Christmas fare as 
 heartily as these three scapegraces had (my word, 
 gentlemen, they could put the good things out of sight, 
 I can tell you !), were, if anything, more lively and mis- 
 chievous than ever. Fleas, bless you, were quite slow 
 in comparison. Truffled turkey seemed to excite 'em, 
 and mince-pies set their brains a-fire, instead of making 
 'em sleepy. I fancy, though, it was the champagne 
 made 'em so extra rampagious. 
 
 Mr. Bompas took it upon himself to only fill their 
 glasses half-way at dinner ; but, bless you, young 
 Reginald was down on him in an instant. 
 
 ' None of your heel-taps, you old rascal !' said he in 
 
A TERRIBLE NIGHT 83 
 
 a whisper ; and poor old Bompas had to fill up the 
 glass much against his will. Master R. tackled him 
 the very next morning about it, and dared him to play 
 him such a trick again. 'You treat me just like a 
 grown-up man for the future, Bompas, or else me and 
 my brothers '11 come and blow you up with fireworks, 
 just like an old Guy Fawkes.' And, knowing what 
 they were, and just likely to be as good as their word, 
 he gave them everything they asked for in the future, 
 whether good for their stomicks or not. 
 
 ' I wish there was no holidays, Charles,' said the poor 
 old man, with tears in his eyes, as I came upon him one 
 day in his pantry ticking off the days on his almanack 
 that there were left before the three went back to 
 school. 
 
 Just to show you what a regular young devil Master 
 Reggie was, I'll tell you something he did. He was 
 up in London once, when he was a boy of ten or there- 
 abouts, with his pa and ma, and for something he had 
 done the Colonel ordered him to bed one day, and 
 locked him up in his chamber accordingly. Well, that 
 boy, if you'll believe me, began by smashing up everything 
 in the room ; even the bed-clothes he tore all to bits, and 
 he finished up by throwing every one of his own clothes 
 out of the window to an old Jew who was going by, 
 crying out, ' Ole clo !' My eye, what a ' wallopin' ' the 
 Colonel did give him when he came home, and serve him 
 right. But, Lor' bless you, the young dare-devil would 
 have done the same thing over again the next day for 
 about tuppence. 
 
 Well, gentlemen, as I have mentioned, it was just 
 after Christmas, when one morning, as I was busy 
 
 6—2 
 
84 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 varnishing the Colonel's boots, in came the three young 
 gents, looking so mysterious that I guessed they had 
 got some game on of more importance than usual, and 
 so they had. 
 
 ' Look here, Chawles,' says Mr. Reginald, who, being 
 the eldest, acted as spokesman, ' we're going to have 
 such a lark to-night, and we want you to come 
 with us. What do you think we're going to do-^** 
 says he. 
 
 ' Goodness only knows, sir,' replied I. ' If you was to 
 tell me you was a-going to set fire to the house, I 
 shouldn't be in the least surprised. Don't expect me 
 to compromise myself, though, if you please, Mr. 
 Reginald.' 
 
 ' Listen, and I'll tell you,' says young my lord. ' The 
 fact is, we're sick of shooting nothing but blackbirds 
 and thrushes and rabbits ; we want to have a go at some 
 pheasants. That old beast of a Mallard makes a pre- 
 tence of taking us to a place where, as he says, " the 
 young gents can get a shot at a pheasant or, maybe, a 
 woodcock," and when we go there, of course, there never 
 are any, as he very wells knows ; so we've determined to 
 go poaching to-night, when everybody's in bed, and try 
 and bag a few longtails as the beggars are roosting up 
 in the trees. The nights are as bright as day just now, 
 and we shall be able to see 'em beautifully, and then 
 we'll bring 'em home and cook 'em on the sly in our 
 bedrooms, and eat 'em. What a lark it will be, to be 
 sure !' he exclaimed, dancing wildly about the room 
 with his brothers, and singing, ' Oh, it's my delight on 
 a shining night, in the season of the ye-e-ar !' loud 
 enough for everybody in the house to hear. 
 
A TERRIBLE NIGHT 85 
 
 ' And supposing old Mallard comes upon the scene 
 and catches us ; how then, sir ?' said I. 
 
 ' Oh, don't you alarm yourself on that score/ was the 
 reply. ' IVe bought these little articles expressly for 
 the occasion' — producing, as he spoke, four hideous 
 masks. ' There,' said he ; ' if, as you say, old Mallard 
 does turn up, he won't be able to identify us ; besides, 
 we can run, all of us, I hope, a trifle faster than a 
 broken-winded old pig like he is, or any of the other 
 keepers either, if it comes to that, with their clumsy 
 hob-nailed boots.' 
 
 But I shook my head and declared I wouldn't run the 
 risk. Why, if it came to the Colonel's eai-s I should 
 lose my place at once, I told 'em. 
 
 ' Oh, nonsense ! Pa won't say anything to yoii^ 
 Chawles,' said young Reginald. ' We shall suffer as a 
 matter of course, but yoitll be all right. Besides,' he 
 argued, ' we only want you to carry the game for us ; 
 we'll do all the shooting, mind you. And just think, 
 too, what a pull you'll have over old Mallard for the 
 future ; I know you hate the old beggar like poison — so 
 do I if it comes to that. We'll go and tell everybody 
 the next day what we did : how we went shooting at 
 night like any other poachers, and never got caught. No 
 wonder, they will say, pheasants are scarce sometimes in 
 the woods. Oh yes,' wound up Mr. R., 'revenge is 
 sweet, Chawles, and you'll join us, I know. AVhy, old 
 Mallard will never be able to face you again, much less 
 slang you, like he did the other day when you were beat- 
 ing and took the blackbird for a woodcock.' 
 
 Well, the end of it was, gentlemen, I couldn't resist the 
 temptation of taking a rise out of my enemy, and I con- 
 
86 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 sented to join them, not without sundry misgivings, 
 though, all the same. ' And,' said I, addressing the three 
 young gents as they left the room to get their cartridges 
 and everything ready, ' don't you go and take too much 
 champagne at dinner, else you won't be fit for nothing 
 later on.' ' Don't you teach your grandmother to suck 
 eggs, Chawles,' was the answer I got from the leader of 
 the gang, as I might aptly call him. Clem, the youngest, 
 was still ruder, for he must needs express his opinion of 
 my advice in dumb show by putting his thumb to his 
 little snub nose — in plain English, gentlemen, he took a 
 sight at me. I didn't think that we should have been 
 able to make a start of it until after midnight, but the 
 fates were propitious for once in a way, for the Colonel, 
 generally rather a late bird, took it into his head to 
 retire early ; consequently I was able to get away and 
 join the juvenile poachers in Mr. Bompas's pantry, as 
 agreed upon, very soon after half-past eleven. 
 
 ' Now mind,' says our leader of the band as we 
 emerged from the house, ' not a word must be spoken, 
 recollect. You'd better all fancy,' says he, ' that you're 
 a " Forlorn Hope," going to storm "Badajos," or some 
 equally important citadel, and then you're sure to be 
 right. And, Chawles, put out that pipe of yours ; 
 they'll smell tobacco a mile off such a frosty night as 
 this.' Oh, it was a sharp night, I can tell you, and as 
 still as still could be. You could not hear a sound, 
 except an occasional howl or bark from the dogs at the 
 keeper's house away across the park. Tramp, tramp, 
 tramp — on we marched without speaking a single word 
 for about a mile, when we came to the gate of a large 
 wood, known as the Dean, in which there were a great 
 
A TERRIBLE NIGHT 87 
 
 number of fir-trees. ' Here we are, boys,"* said Mr. 
 Reggie in a loud whisper. ' There are no end of the 
 beggars snoring away here, including a few wooden ones. 
 There's a stack of barley just about in the middle of 
 the wood, and it's in the fir-trees close by there that 
 the pheasants will be. I know, because IVe reconnoitred 
 every bit of the ground.' 
 
 ' Why, what a splendid engineer officer you'll make, 
 Mr. Reggie,' I exclaimed, still in a whisper, ' when you 
 goes into the army !' ' Engineer officer be blowed !' he 
 growled back in a contemptuous fashion. ' I'm going 
 into the governor's old regiment, the Blues, you ass ! 
 Now then, boys,' he continued, ' on with your masks, 
 stick your cartridges in, and follow me.' 
 
 Accordingly we did as our gallant commander bid us. 
 The three poachers loaded their guns, and then the four 
 of us donned our masks, and nice objects we looked, I 
 can tell you. I think if we had come across any real 
 poachers by chance they must have run away at the 
 sight of us. Having done that, and had a good laugh 
 all round, and a nip of cherry brand}^ to keep the cold 
 out from a flaskful Mr. Bompas, the butler, had given 
 us before we left the house, we once more made a start 
 up the big centre ride, keeping well in the shadow 
 by Mr. Reggie's orders. (Oh, he was a regular Sir 
 Garnet, I can tell you ! I never saw one so young 
 with such an old head on his shoulders.) Next down a 
 little side path, and then the barley-stack our leader 
 had spoke of suddenly burst upon our sight. 
 
 ' Now, then, look out for 'em,' whispers Reggie. 
 ' I see one,' he suddenly says, peering into the fir- 
 trees. *ril have the first go;' and levelling his weapon, 
 
88 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 he fired, bang! and down flopped a fine cock pheasant, 
 shot through the breast. 
 
 ' A splendid bh'd," whispered its slayer, as I picked it 
 up. ' Pop him in the bag, Chawles.^ 
 
 ' I see one !' cries young Eddie, a minute later. 
 
 ' Blaze at him, them,' says his brother. 
 
 Bang went Eddie's gun, and down flopped another. 
 It was a wooden one, and you should have seen how 
 wild Master Eddie was. Then Master Clem got one — 
 a real one ; then Reggie got another, and shot with his 
 second barrel an old white owl that came flying out to 
 see what the matter was. Bang went the guns ; first 
 one and then t'other. There must have been at least 
 a dozen pheasants on the ground. Nobody came, 
 and the boys got quite reckless, talking to one 
 another. 
 
 ' One more shot apiece,' cries Reggie, ' and then off* 
 we go home with the plunder. Lord, how hungry I 
 am !' he added ; ' I wish I'd got a sandwich.' 
 
 ' I should just like a slice of cold plum-pudding,' 
 remarked young Eddie. 
 
 At this point Mr. Reggie, one of whose cartridges 
 had stuck fast, says to me, ' Chawles,' says he, 'just go 
 to that further lot of fir-trees and see if you can see 
 any of 'em roosting. I'll join you in a minute, as soon 
 as I can get this infernal old cartridge out.' 
 
 I went accordingly, and all of a sudden fell flat on 
 my face, having tripped over a wire which was fastened 
 about three or four inches from the ground. At the 
 same moment something exploded close to my ear, 
 making the most terrific noise you ever heard. It was 
 just like a young cannon going off*, and for the moment 
 
A TERRIBLE NIGHT 89 
 
 quite deafened me, to say nothing of frightening me 
 out of my senses. 
 
 ' Oh, I'm killed ! I'm shot !' I roared as I lay prostrate 
 on the ground. 
 
 ' Get up, you great fool !' hissed out Reggie, running 
 up to me and giving me a hand. ' Get up directly. 
 YouVe let off one of old Mallard's maroons, that's what 
 you've done. Somebody's bound to hear it, and we 
 must be off at once, or else we shall be caught, as sure 
 as a gun. Come, look sharp !' 
 
 I did look sharp, you may depend, and was just 
 putting the thirteenth pheasant into the bag pre- 
 paratory to being off, when simultaneously from behind 
 the fir-trees rushed half a dozen men, headed by old 
 Mallard himself, and surrounded us before we could 
 make a run for it. One of his men collared a boy 
 apiece, and he himself seized me, whilst an under* 
 keeper took the bag. 
 
 ' Thirteen beautiful cock pheasants,' said Mallard, as 
 his man turned its contents out on to the ground — 
 ' thirteen beautiful cock pheasants and a howl ! Well, 
 you might 'ave left the poor howl alone, I do think. 
 Power on yer, and three guns amongst the fower ; 
 pretty good guns, too, I see. They're forfeited, in 
 course. I gets them, as is honly right. And now, who 
 are you hall ? I demand of your names.' 
 
 * Oh, shut up all that rot. Mallard !' says young Mr. 
 Reggie, braving it out as bold as brass. ' You know 
 well enough who we are ; give us back our guns, and 
 let Charles there go, and we'll walk home. Here, 
 here's a sovereign for waking you up.' 
 
 But Mallard protested he didn't know who we 
 
90 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 were. ' Do ycni know ?' says he, turning to the under- 
 keeper. 
 
 ' Noa, that ar doan'^t,'' replied the brute addressed, 
 grinning from ear to ear. 
 
 ' Oh, nonsense !' said Mr. Reggie, throwing off his 
 mask in a rage. ' WeVe the sons of your master, 
 Colonel Arden, and this is his servant, Charles 
 Snobley.' 
 
 ' Well," exclaimed Mallard, pretending to be quite 
 
 taken aback, ' of all the What ! You're never 
 
 a-goin' to try and make me believe as you three gallus 
 young poachers are them nice young gents up at the 
 Court, wot comes out shootin' along with me dooring 
 the 'olidays .? Why, it's haddin' hinsult to hinjury, 
 strike me hugly if it isn't ! And to try and make out 
 as this here low-lookin' feller is that 'ighly respectable 
 
 young man Charles, Colonel Arden's " wally '' 
 
 Well, I ham blowed ! No, no ; you comes along o' 
 me, and explains all that to the Colonel. I won't do 
 nuffin to you pussonally, but as I consider this man here, 
 being holder than wot you are, is the worst of the lot, 
 I shall proceed to try 'im by court-martial on the spot, 
 all fair and honerable, just the same as on board ship. 
 Genelmen,' said he, addressing the half-dozen under- 
 keepers and watchers, ' you know the particklers of 
 this here case, so just consider amongst yourselves, and 
 then hinform me, the President of this honerable Court, 
 what your verdict his, and what the sentence is to be, 
 death or hotherwise. You 'ave three minutes by my 
 watch to think it hover in,' said Mallard, pulling out 
 with much dignity the huge silver turnip he called a 
 watch. ' Well, genelmen,' said he, at the expiration of 
 
A TERRIBLE NIGHT 91 
 
 the three minutes, * time's hup ! What is your verdict, 
 guilty or not guilty P"* 
 
 ' Guilty," replied the fellows all together. 
 
 ' Wery good ; and your sentence, gen'lmen ?' 
 
 ' A jolly good 'iding,"* was the reply (again unanimous). 
 
 'A jolly good 'iding, eh? That means three dozen 
 with a dog-whip or a hash-stick, for want of a cat-o'- 
 nine-tails. A wery lenient sentence, gen'lmen, and I 
 will see that it is dooly carried hout. Before doin' so, 
 three on you just escort these three lads as prisoners up 
 to the Court. Ring the back-door bell, and ask for 
 Mr. Bom pas, the butler, when they come to open the 
 door."* 
 
 ' Here, Mr. Reginald, Mr. Charles, don't leave me 
 here all alone with this beast, for Gawd's sake ! he'll 
 be the death of me else,' I cried ; and the boys in reply 
 tried all they could to struggle free, but their captors 
 were too strong, and they were duly marched off, pro- 
 testing. As soon as they were out of sight, the brute 
 Mallard, turning to a stalwart under-keeper, said to 
 him : ' Joe Kiff, this here honourable court appints you 
 bo'sun's mate for the occasion. I calls upon you 
 accordin' to do your dooty, and give this prisoner, 
 caught in the hact of night poaching, three dozen 
 lashes with this here dog-whip ; and lay it on thick, 
 d'ye hear ?' 
 
 In vain I protested and threatened and kicked and 
 struggled. The fellows, delighted in the job, apparently, 
 threw me down, and Joe Kiff, a robust young fellow, 
 with the strength of a Hercules, taking me by the scruff 
 of the neck, like he would an offending retriever, pro- 
 ceeded to pitch into me with the dog-whip until I was 
 
92 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 half mad with pain, accompanying each lash with such 
 remarks as ' 'Ware Chase, will yer ! Come to heel, will 
 yer ! Down charge, will yer !"* just as if he was addressing 
 a dog of some kind. When he let go of me I was as mad 
 as a bull, and quite as dangerous, as you may imagine, 
 though, of course, quite unable to do anything. I 
 could only use my tongue, which I did to some tune. 
 
 ' Ah, youVe feverish, my man," coolly observed 
 Mallard, quite ignoring my language ; a little solitary 
 confinement in the fresh hair is what you want, I can 
 see. Tie him up, Joe, to this here hoak tree, and leave 
 him there till daybreak, and then you can come and let 
 him loose.' And, if you'll believe me, gentlemen, that's 
 just what they did, and there I was left until six o'clock 
 the next morning, when the keepers came and released 
 me, more dead than alive. Of course I complained to 
 the Colonel, and all the change I got from him was that 
 it served me right for going. I sent a challenge by one 
 of the footmen to Mallard, who said in reply that he 
 would fight me for a fi'pun note any day I liked to 
 appoint. He had, of course, heard nothing about the 
 duello, and would not understand that gentlemen never 
 have recourse to anything so low as fists when they 
 settle their affairs of honour. So it came to nothing. 
 
 AVe managed to pay him off, though, to some extent. 
 Under pretence of wishing him to drink their good 
 healths, the day before they returned to school, the 
 three young gents went down to Mallard's cottage, 
 carrying with them a bottle of port wine for that pur- 
 pose. Just as port wine is doctored for the English 
 market, so, gentlemen, was this particular bottle 
 doctored — with an infusion of jalap — for Mr. Mallard. 
 
A TERRIBLE NIGHT 93 
 
 Mr. Mallard, being partial to port wine, drank the 
 lot at a sitting, with the result, gentlemen, that not 
 a great while afterwards the Pig became extremely 
 uncomfortable, not to say ill, and was obliged to retire 
 to his sty, where he had to remain all the following 
 day. It took him, in fact, quite as long to shake off 
 the effects of the port as it did me to shake off' the 
 aches and pains acquired on that terrible night. I was 
 amply revenged, gentlemen — amply revenged. 
 
THE BITER BIT 
 
 THE SPORTING GENTLEMAN'S STORY 
 
 One of the most regular of its members in his attendance 
 at the nightly reunions of the Horse-shoe Club was a 
 certain Mr. Joseph Sharpe, a middle-aged, prosperous- 
 looking person, whose clothes and general get-up, with- 
 out being flashy, were decidedly of a sporting cut. He 
 was somewhat broadly described as a ' sporting gentle- 
 man.** Now, I need scarcely say that between the 
 sportsman and the sporting gentleman there is a very 
 great deal of difference, and it is very certain that the 
 former title would be totally inapplicable as far as 
 Mr. Sharpe individually was concerned. In all human 
 probability he never fired off a gun, went out hunting, 
 or fished a trout stream in his life, and you might bet 
 with safety that he never will ; but, on the other 
 hand, the horse races, the prize fights, the trotting 
 matches, the badger baitings, the games of billiards, 
 skittles and dominoes he has assisted at at various 
 times are innumerable ; consequently, if (as I am informed 
 it is) to be an authority on the amusements in question 
 is a necessary qualification for the sporting gentleman 
 
THE BITER BIT 95 
 
 or gent, why, it is very certain that Mr. Joseph Sharpe 
 had every right to the appellation. Profession he had 
 none, unless making a small book on the principal 
 events of the year and doing a few commissions con- 
 stituted one. 
 
 It was whilst acting in the latter capacity that the 
 incident occurred which I heard him (he being called on 
 by the chairman for a story) relate to the club one 
 evening. Having tenaciously treasured up the same in 
 my memory, I now retail it for the benefit of my 
 readers : 
 
 To look at me now, gentlemen, said Mr. Joseph 
 Sharpe, glancing complacently as he spoke at the large 
 diamond ring that sparkled on the little finger of his 
 right hand — to look at me now, you would perhaps 
 hardly believe that at one period of my career — and 
 not such a great while ago, either — I was absolutely 
 and completely broke — ruined, gentlemen, I was, indeed, 
 stock, lock, and barrel, as the saying is. I really don't 
 believe, as I walked dejectedly down the Strand on the 
 Monday after the Cambridgeshire of 18 — , there was a 
 more impecunious person in the streets of London than 
 yours truly, Joseph Sharpe. Til tell you how it was : 
 Hitherto I had confined myself to backing horses in a 
 small way, and I am bound to say with astonishing 
 good luck so far. I won a good bit on the Derby that 
 year, did equally well at Ascot, and did not fare badly 
 at Goodwood. Just after that, my father dying and 
 leaving me what he had, poor old chap ! — not much, 
 certainly, but still a comfortable little sum, for all that 
 — I found myself with more money at my disposal than 
 
96 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 I ever thought possible. In fact, what with my legacy 
 and the money I had made going racing, I had quite 
 a tidy little amount standing to my credit at the bank. 
 The question I next had to decide was what to do 
 with it. One or two of my father's old friends got at 
 me, and tried to induce me to cut the sporting and take 
 to a more respectable mode of earning a living. There 
 was old Chucksby, for instance, said to me in his bluff, 
 hearty way one day : 
 
 ' I say, Joe, my boy,"* says he, ' why don't you go in for 
 my line of business (he was a draper, gentlemen) ? It's 
 a very paying one for an enterprising young man, as 
 you must be well aware. Look at ???^/ I don't look 
 very 'ard up, do I ?' And then, as if a sudden thought 
 occurred to him, he added : ' Hang it all ! Look 'ere, 
 Joseph : I was a very old pal o' your poor dear old 
 dad, and I should like to do his son a turn oncoinmon^ 
 that I should, so I tell you what I'll do with you : in- 
 west your money along with me, and you shall have a 
 share in my business, blow me if you shan't !' 
 
 I told him I would think it over and let him know, 
 and it was lucky on the whole that I exercised such dis- 
 cretion, for the good, kind old man went through the 
 court in less than a month afterwards, his affairs, it 
 came out, having been hopelessly involved for some 
 time past. So it ended in my turning a deaf ear to all 
 my advisers and turning bookmaker. And it was after 
 my first experiment in that line that I found myself in 
 the predicament I told you about. Happening to hear 
 (on the very best authority, of course) that Coriolanus 
 was what is commonly called a stiff un — ' as good as 
 dead,' my informant told me — for the Cambridgeshire, 
 
THE BITER BIT 97 
 
 I took liberties with him accordingly — laid against him, 
 in fact, as long as I could find anyone to back him. 
 The brute won in a canter, and I was broke — clean 
 broke. When I had paid my losses on the Monday, I 
 give you my word, gentlemen, that I hadn't ten pounds 
 in the world to call my own. Of course, I need not 
 have stumped up a shilling had I been so minded, and 
 I might say I was sorely tempted once or twice to let 
 everything slide, and leave my creditors in the lurch ; 
 but somehow or other I thought better of it, and I 
 paid up every penny that I owed on settling day. As 
 it turned out, the old saying, ' Honesty is the best 
 policy,' turned out quite true in my particular case. 
 
 Having settled up, I was walking (as I have, I 
 think, told you, gentlemen) down the Strand, with 
 nine pounds fourteen shillings and seven pence, my sole 
 remaining capital, in my pocket, and feeling that 
 low — well, I really can't describe it, gentlemen. I 
 can only say that I hope none of you in this room have 
 ever experienced sensations of a similar kind ;* for if 
 you have, all I can say is, I thoroughly sympathize with 
 you — when who should I run up against just as I was 
 passing Catherine Street but Mr. James Robson, a well- 
 known North Country bookmaker, and an old acquaint- 
 ance of mine. Not feeling at all inclined just then to 
 parley with anyone, I just nodded politely a ' How are 
 you ?'' and was about to pass on, when I found my pro- 
 gress barred effectively by my bookmaking friend, who, 
 
 ■^ NoTK BY THE AuTHOR. — One 01* two of the members^ I noticed, 
 wriggled slightly in their chairs at this remark of Mr. Sharpe's, 
 as if they had not been altogether strangers to embarrassments 
 of a pecuniary nature at some period of their careers. 
 
 7 
 
98 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 evidently determined not to let me go without a word, 
 now interposed his burly person, and, taking me by the 
 buttonhole, fairly brought me to an anchor, much 
 against my will. 
 
 ' YouVe the very chap as I wanted to see, lad, so it's 
 a fortunate meeting, this,' said Mr. Robson. ' YouVe 
 had a bad settling, I fear,' added he — ' in fact, I know 
 ye have ; for haven't I got some of it here in my 
 pocket ?' pointing significantly as he spoke to the left 
 side of his broad chest, a certain bulging out in his 
 great -coat just about that region denoting pretty 
 plainly that there was a well-filled note-case hidden 
 away in the inside pocket. 'After losing o' one's 
 money,' he went on, ' there's nothing, in my opinion, 
 like a good dinner and a bottle or two o' champagne, 
 so ye can't do better, my boy, than coom and have 
 some o' both along o' me. I particklarly want to talk 
 to ye, too ; so say, lad, will ye coom ?'' 
 
 I accepted the invitation, much to Mr. Robson's 
 satisfaction ; not that I looked forward very much to 
 his company, but it struck me that the man might be 
 of use to me hereafter, and I was also curious to' know 
 what he was so anxious to see me about. ' Some robbery, 
 I'll go bail,' thought I. 
 
 Accordingly, taking my arm between his, as if deter- 
 mined not to lose sight of me, Mr. Robson and I 
 wended our way to a certain snug dining-place in the 
 Strand, much patronized by racing men, and famed 
 for the excellence of its mutton, in one of whose snug 
 boxes we quickly found ourselves seated at a repast 
 ordered on a most liberal scale by my host of the 
 evening. 
 
THE BITER BIT 99 
 
 ' Now for it !' said I to myself, as, dinner being cleared 
 away and the cloth drawn, my host ordered some punch 
 (another speciality of the house) and cigars, and put his 
 legs up on the seat with the air of a man who has dined 
 very much to his satisfaction. 
 
 Mr. R. being, as he took occasion to tell me previous 
 to beginning dinner, a man who did not beUeve ' in 
 doin' moor than one thing at a time, lad," had hardly 
 opened his mouth during the meal except to put food 
 into it, or to express an opinion, in his usual straight- 
 forward, if somewhat uncultured style, that such and 
 such a dish was ' domd ' good or ' domd ' bad, as the 
 case might be. 
 
 It was not until my entertainer had got a cigar under 
 way (the largest in the place, you may depend), and had 
 ladled out and drank a couple of glasses of punch, that 
 he condescended to abandon his recumbent position and 
 talk business. His first act was to rest his arms on the 
 table and lean forward until his great ponderous head 
 nearly touched mine ; this done, he, in a sort of hoarse 
 growl, proceeded to pour his scheme into my all-atten- 
 tive ears. 
 
 Before I tell you what it was, though, gentlemen, I 
 must, by your leave, go back a bit. Preliminaries 
 had just been settled for a great prize-fight for a 
 thousand a side and the championship of England, 
 to come off in three months' time or thereabouts, 
 between the redoubtable Tom Ball (the then holder 
 of the belt) and Jack Roxby, otherwise the ' Bold 
 Sailor Boy.' The contest, as I well knew, promised 
 to be one of unusual interest, and it is very certain 
 that for a long period past no battle in the prize- 
 
 7—2 
 
100 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 ring had caused such excitement amongst the general as 
 well as the sporting public as this one now on the tapis. 
 In the first place, Tom Ball was a well-tried veteran, 
 who scarcely knew what defeat meant, and as game a 
 man as ever threw his hat into the ring. He had now 
 been comparatively idle for nearly two years, nobody, 
 apparently, caring to ' take him on," as the saying is ; in 
 fact, it really looked as if he would be allowed to retire 
 from the ring (as he announced he would shortly) with- 
 out having again to defend the belt. However, this 
 was not to be, for suddenly, what was thought by the 
 ' cognoscenti "* to be a gem of the first water, made his 
 appearance in the pugilistic world. This was Jack 
 Roxby, a fine, strapping young fellow of five-and- 
 twenty, who, though a complete novice, had lately 
 defeated in the easiest possible manner that accomplished 
 boxer, Bill Snaggs, better known by his sobriquet of 
 ' Bermondsey Bill.** So decisive was the result, and so 
 well did the young un shape, that his delighted backers, 
 in the first flush of victory, announced their intention of 
 at once matching him against the champion. Mean- 
 while, however. Bill Snaggs, laying his recent defeat to 
 want of condition (he having underrated his man, he 
 said, and taken things too easy in consequence), 
 expressed himself as dissatisfied and anxious for another 
 shy. Accordingly, a fresh match was made for two 
 hundred a side, to take place in two months from that 
 time. The fight duly came off, in the presence of an 
 unwonted number of ' Corinthians,' all anxious to have 
 a peep at the embryo champion of England. Nor were 
 they disappointed in their expectations, for Jack Roxby 
 beat ' Bermondsey Bill ' this time more decisively than 
 
THE BITER BIT 101 
 
 before. The latter was in splendid condition and 
 fought like a Trojan, but he never had a chance with 
 his opponent at any moment of the fight, and poor Bill 
 was forced to admit — when, out-fought at all points and 
 knocked all to pieces, he reluctantly consented to his 
 seconds ' throwing up the sponge "* — that the ' best 
 man ' had won. No time was lost now in brini>;incr Jack 
 Roxby and Tom Ball together. Any amount of money 
 was forthcoming for both men, so that the necessary 
 preliminaries were gone through with scarcely any delay, 
 and within a week articles were drawn up and signed, as 
 I have already told you, for the pair to fight at a given 
 date for the large sum of a thousand pounds a side, and 
 the proud title of ' champion of England.^ One would 
 have thought that, taking into consideration his pre- 
 vious performances and long experience, Tom would 
 have been a strong favourite, but it was not so. The 
 betting started at two to one on Tom, but money 
 quickly poured in to such an extent for the ' Bold Sailor 
 Boy ' that in a very short time the odds veered round 
 the other way. The public no doubt relied on his 
 youth, and also his wonderful form in his recent fight 
 with ' Bermondsey Bill." All manner of stories were in 
 circulation, too, about him. He was a nobleman in 
 disguise ; he had been at the University, and having 
 been rusticated, had quarrelled with his father, and had 
 in consequence first enlisted in the Blues, and then 
 taken to the P.R. Pretty little Mrs. Coverdale went 
 about telling everybody that her brother Frank said he 
 distinctly remembered being up with him at Oxford. 
 (This was singular, rather, for Lady Loosefish's fond 
 and rather vapid hubby remembered him quite well at 
 
102 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 Trinity, when he was at Cambridge.) Being very good- 
 looking, too, besides being possessed of a magnificent 
 physique, his photographs sold hke wildfire, especially 
 amongst the ladies, who all professed to have fallen in 
 love with him — pretty souls ! In short, he found him- 
 self firmly established as the lion of the hour. In 
 reality, Jack's history was a very short one and not 
 particularly romantic. Born of highly respectable 
 parents, he being somewhat of a roving disposition 
 when a lad, and not relishing the idea of the seat on a 
 three-legged stool in the same office as his father which 
 was in store for him, just took himself off one fine night 
 and volunteered for the Royal Navy. He quickly found 
 that his self-chosen profession suited him down to the 
 ground, and by the time he had grown up to man's 
 estate there was no smarter seaman in the whole of 
 Her Majesty's fleet than John Roxby, A.B., of 
 H.M.S. Sultana. The second lieutenant happening to 
 be a great patron of the noble art of self-defence, and 
 very fond of boxing, made Jack put on his gloves with 
 him one fine day for a friendly bout. The sailor took 
 to the amusement with the same facility that a duck 
 does to water, so much so that his mentor very quickly 
 came to the conclusion that his pupil was made of no 
 ordinary stuff. 
 
 A rough-up with a professional pugilist at Ports- 
 mouth by way of a trial, in the course of which Jack 
 knocked the professor's head through the window, dis- 
 pelled any further doubt on the subject, and the lieu- 
 tenant forthwith determined to turn his knowledge to 
 account. Jack, though fond of the navy, and loath to 
 leave it in a way, yet could not resist the tempting 
 
 i 
 
THE BITER BIT 103 
 
 proposals set before him by his patron, the lieutenant, 
 and a chance observation of that gallant officer — namely, 
 that with ordinary luck he was bound in time to occupy 
 the coveted position of champion of England — settled 
 the business. He put himself unreservedly into the 
 hands of his patron, who lost no time in buying his 
 pupiPs discharge from the navy. 
 
 The next thing to do was to look for a * customer,' 
 to put the coming champion through his facings and 
 let his patron and his friends see what he could do with 
 a good man before him in a 24-foot ring. He was 
 quickly found in the pugilist whose head Jack had 
 knocked through the window at Portsmouth, and who 
 had not yet forgiven the indignity. A match was 
 therefore very quickly ratified between the two for a 
 small stake, and in the presence of a select company, 
 composed chiefly of the naval and military element, the 
 fight duly came off, with the result that Lieutenant 
 Thornhiirs ' novice "* — as Jack was called — won, though 
 not without receiving some heavy punishment from his 
 antagonist, and which his patron was pleased to see he 
 took with unflinching pluck. 
 
 And now, gentlemen, having given you a rough 
 sketch of Jack Roxby and his antecedents, I will hark 
 back to my North Country friend, Mr. James Robson, 
 and his proposal. 
 
 It was briefly this : The betting, as he justly observed, 
 was extremely heavy on the fight, and became more so 
 every day, and there was no doubt at all about it that 
 there was a great deal of money to be made ' if one only 
 knew for certain, lad.' 
 
 'Now, my idea,' said that gentleman, Ms that this 
 
104 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 Jack '11 weer t' owd mon out and lick 'im, for they tell 
 me that he's the primest fighter weVe seen for mony a 
 day, and he's shewer to beat Tom at wrastlin' as well. 
 Anyhow, he's favourite now, and likely to remain so.' 
 
 To be brief, then, the bookmaker, having first 
 pledged me to secrecy, suggested that I should go down 
 immediately to Portsmouth to interview Jack Roxby 
 before he commenced to train, and should propose to 
 him to square the fight in this way — viz., that just 
 before the men shook hands in the ring, he was to take 
 a small dose of a drug provided by Mr. Robson, which 
 drug was warranted not to act on the taker for twenty 
 minutes, at the expiration of which time it would begin 
 to take effect, the taker would begin to turn giddy and 
 reel, and his opponent would then 'go in and win' 
 without causing any suspicion amongst the spectators. 
 The terms he authorized me to offer to the ' Bold Sailor 
 Boy,' if he agreed to the proposal, were three thousand 
 pounds in cash, half immediately, the remainder to be 
 handed to him before stepping into the ring, after he 
 had been seen to take a specified dose. Finally, Mr. 
 Robson's name was to be left entirely out of the trans- 
 action — not to be mentioned, in fact (' Oh, you cunning 
 old rascal !' I thought to myself) — and if I settled every- 
 thing satisfactory and comfortable-like, as he expressed 
 it, I was to receive the sum of five hundred pounds for 
 my service, the said sum to be paid in advance. ' And,' 
 wound up my tempter, with almost brutal candour, ' if 
 ye'll tak mar advice, lad, ye'll shak bonds on the bar- 
 gain, for ar know thou art as nigh broak as a chap can 
 be in this woorld — baint thee, now ?' 
 
 Well, gentlemen, as you may possibly imagine, this 
 
THE BITER BIT 105 
 
 audacious proposal fairly took away my breath for a 
 moment. An immediate answer was impossible, and I 
 begged for five minutes'* grace to think it over. 
 
 ' Ten, if you loike, lad," responded Mr. Robson, with 
 great affability ; ' I know what V answer '11 be, right 
 enough.' 
 
 So saying, he ordered another brew of punch, lit 
 another leviathan cigar, and cocked his legs up on the 
 seat with every appearance of being well satisfied with 
 himself, as no doubt he was. The worst part of it was 
 that what he had said about my pecuniary state was 
 true to the letter. There was no getting away from 
 the fact that I was ' broak,' as he termed it ; had it 
 been otherwise with me, I should have scorned his 
 infamous proposition with indignation. After thinking 
 the matter over, however, I could come to no other con- 
 clusion (though sorely against my will, I do assure you, 
 gentlemen) than that I should be acting unfairly to 
 myself if I did not accept the bookmaker's offer. 
 ' After all,' I said to myself by way of an excuse, ' I 
 am only a paid agent in the matter. I am not the real 
 culprit.' 
 
 So, as the wily old bookmaker had sagaciously pre- 
 dicted, at the end of the ten minutes my answer was 
 ' Yes,' and we accordingly shook hands on the bargain 
 over a fresh brew of punch. It was arranged between 
 us before we parted that I should start for Portsmouth 
 the very next morning, for which purpose my partner, 
 who was evidently in a liberal mood, handed me a 
 twenty-pound note, ' for expenses loike,' as he said. 
 
 The next morning I started on my mission. On 
 reaching my destination, my first act was to inquire 
 
106 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 of one of the numerous cabmen plying at the station 
 if he knew the whereabouts of the redoubtable Jack 
 Roxby. 
 
 ' Is it the " Bould Sailor Boy '^ hVhat yer honour 
 manes?"' shouted Jehu in reply, jumping down from 
 his box in great excitement. ' Shure, it's meself that 
 knows um entirely. Jump in, yer honour, an' I'll take 
 yer to um at wonst. Shure, and I'm the bhoy as alius 
 drives Mister Roxby and the Liftinant when they goes 
 anywhere for a little divarsion.' 
 
 There was no resisting this appeal, so in I bundled, 
 and away we rattled at as good a pace as the wretched 
 Rosinante between the shafts could raise at short 
 notice. As we drove along, my driver alternately 
 flogged the old horse and leaned over to indulge in 
 eulogistic remarks on the hero I was on my way to visit. 
 All of a sudden, looking more knowing than ever, 
 he drew my attention to an extremely pretty and 
 modest-looking girl walking along the footpath to- 
 wards us. 
 
 ' His swateheart,' said he in a hoarse whisper, and 
 slackening his pace almost to a walk. ' Is all well wid 
 'im ?' he shouted, as the young woman passed, taking 
 off his dirty white hat and giving it a flourish in her 
 honour. 
 
 She looked up, and nodded smilingly in assent. 
 
 ' Ah, an' it's yerself is the rale beauty ! Isn't she, 
 sorr .?' exclaimed my Irish friend, evidently well pleased 
 at the recognition. 
 
 Another minute and we pulled up at a decent-looking 
 public - house, rejoicing in the name of the Lord 
 Nelson. 
 
THE BITER BIT 107 
 
 ' Could I see Mr. Roxby ?' I inquired of the landlord 
 at the bar. 
 
 Well, the landlord didn't know, but he'd go and see. 
 Mr. Roxby was just having a rub down after a walk, 
 and he didn't usually receive visitors until after he'd 
 had his dinner. Would I mention my name ? 
 
 ' Oh, Mr. Roxby won't know it if you do,' said I 
 hastily. ' Kindly say a gentleman from London wishes 
 to see him on very important business, and if he cannot 
 grant me an interview now, perhaps he will be good 
 enough to make an appointment later on in the day or 
 to-morrow.' 
 
 ' Ah, it'll be to-day, if he sees you at all,' replied 
 Boniface, ' for he goes into active training to-morrow. 
 Goin' to Noomarket, so I understand, worse luck ! I 
 wish he was a-goin' to remain where he is, I can tell 
 you, for the customers he brings to my shop is some- 
 thin' extrahordinary. Bless yer 'art, why I've known 
 people come 'ere and stand in the bar for hours (come 
 from a distance, too) just to have a peep at 'im, and go 
 away as happy as cock-robins if they do ; and if they 
 should chance to miss 'im, blowed if they don't come 
 again the wery next day. There's a lot of perseverance 
 about, ain't there.? Well, I'll take up yer message, 
 though I don't think it is much use, let me tell you.' 
 
 In a couple of minutes, however, down he came with 
 the welcome news that the great man would see me at 
 once. 
 
 ' You're to walk up,' said the landlord of the Lord 
 Nelson. ' The third door on the right-hand side when 
 you get up to the top of the stairs, and there you'll 
 find him ; and,' he whispered in my ear as I proceeded 
 
108 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 to climb the staircase, ' get him, if yer can, to show yer 
 his harm afore you go. Yoiill say you never saw such 
 a harm in all yer born days ! I never did, for 
 certain !' 
 
 ' Come in !^ said a manly voice, when, in obedience to 
 the landlord's instructions, I knocked at the specified 
 door ; and entering accordingly, I found myself in the 
 presence of the future champion of England. At first I 
 thought I had made a mistake, for surely, thought I, 
 this can't be a prize-fighter. Where was the bull neck, 
 the flattened nose ? Where the huge flapping ears and 
 the sunken eyes I had always associated with members 
 of the P.R. ? Absent every one of them. Standing 
 up and bidding me welcome was as good-looking a 
 young fellow as ever I clapped eyes on. His limbs 
 seemed to me absolutely perfect, combining as they did 
 the strength of a Hercules and the grace of an Apollo ; 
 in fact, take him all in all, he was from head to foot as 
 perfect a figure of a ' man ' as one could wish to see. 
 One thing is certain — one would never have guessed 
 from either his face or his manner that he belonged to 
 the bruising fraternity. Could I have foreseen with 
 what sort of person I had to deal, it is very certain I 
 should have required Mr. James Robson to do his dirty 
 work himself. As it was I felt at considerable loss as 
 to how to begin, I can tell you, gentlemen. AVhat if 
 he threw me out of the window, this superior young 
 man ? Oh, I tell you I was in a real quandary for once 
 in my life. However, I had to get through it some- 
 how, and, with a deal of stuttering and stammering on 
 my part, get through it I did — taking precious good 
 care, you may depend, to impress the * Bold Sailor Boy ' 
 
THE BITER BIT 109 
 
 with the fact that I was not the principal in the affair, 
 only the paid agent. 
 
 Well, at last I finished (giving a gasp of relief as I 
 did so), and paused for a reply. 
 
 The prize-fighter for some minutes was deep in 
 thought. At length he spoke. 
 
 ' I may as well,"* he said, ' tell you, by way of a start, 
 that my first impulse, when you mentioned the pro- 
 posal you did, was to kick you out of the room, down- 
 stairs, and out of the house. (' Thank you for nothing,"* 
 thought I.) However, I thought I would let you go 
 on, and hear all you'd got to say ; and this is my reply 
 to you or your principal — it doesn't matter to me 
 which of you it is — one's as big a rascal as t'other, I 
 reckon.' 
 
 Just imagine, gentlemen, my feelings at being ad- 
 dressed like this ! Me, a man who from my youth up 
 had always possessed a more than ordinary amount of 
 gentlemanly feeling, and brought up so respectable, 
 too, as I had been, to be called in so many words a 
 rascal ! By a common prize-fighter, too ! Oh, I did 
 feel hurt, I can assure you ! 
 
 ' I accept your terms (' Thank God for that,' thought 
 I) on certain conditions, and I don't mind,' added he, 
 with all the proverbial candour of the jolly Jack Tar, 
 ' telling you why I accept them, and in a manner 
 become as big, or nearly as big, a swindler as you and 
 your pal. Excuse my speaking straight, won't you ? 
 it's a way I have. I learnt it in the navy, I 
 fancy.' 
 
 * Oh, certainly,' I murmured, with as pleased an 
 expression as I could put on, cursing his impudence 
 
110 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 inwardly all the time, though. ' Oh, certainly ; don'^t 
 be afraid to speak." 
 
 ' No, I won't,' was the reply. ' I'm going,' continued 
 he, ' to get married directly after my fight with Tom 
 Ball for the belt ; that's why I want the money, if you 
 wish to know. The blunt will be useful, d'ye see, to 
 my little woman, bless her heart ! Dash it all !' ex- 
 claimed my hero, his face lighting up, ' when I think of 
 my little Jenny, I feel as if I could do anything for her 
 sake, short of murder.' 
 
 ' And the conditions ?' I ventured to ask. 
 
 ' Oh, well, the conditions are these,' was the reply : 
 ' I must know exactly what it is I am taking, and must 
 have a certificate, signed by a medical man, that it is 
 an absolute certainty that the drug will not take effect 
 a second before the time you specify — twenty minutes, 
 I think you said ? And remember this, though I consent 
 to sell my honour in this manner for a consideration, I 
 shall do my level best to win the fight, all the same. 
 And you mark my words, governor,' said Jack Roxby, 
 rising from his chair and emphatically shaking his 
 finger at me : ' I shall win, in spite of your hocussing, 
 you see if I don't. I hope I shall, if only for the sake 
 of putting you and your pal in the cart, and serve you 
 jolly well right, I say.' 
 
 Well, gentlemen, after partaking of a bottle of 
 champagne with the champion (and I may here men- 
 tion that a little of it went a very long way), I took 
 my leave, and started on my return journey to town, 
 well pleased with the success of my mission. Mr. James 
 Robson, I need scarcely say, was quite as gratified as I 
 was, and not only duly kept his promise as regards my 
 
THE BITER BIT 111 
 
 honorarium — ^honorarium I think I might ahnost 
 call it — but, judging from what I heard at the sporting 
 clubs, lost no time in ' peppering ' the ' Bold Sailor 
 Boy ' at every available opportunity. So much so that 
 several other large operators, thinking there was ' some- 
 thing up,' followed suit and did likewise, with the 
 result that before very long Tom Ball was reinstated in 
 his old position as favourite for the great event. Now, 
 my original intention was to let the fight ' run loose ' 
 as far as I was concerned — have nothing to do with it, 
 in short, in a speculative sense. But somehow or other, 
 for the life of me I couldn't get it out of my head, 
 sleeping or waking, but that Jack Roxby would win. 
 The idea got such a hold of me that I couldn't shake it 
 off. It was a regular old man of the sea. At last, 
 after a more feverish night than usual, I could stand it 
 no longer. I went to the club I frequented, got hold 
 of a friend (my credit, mind you, was first-rate), and 
 bid him back the ' Sailor ' for me for five hundred. 
 (Fifteen hundred to five he took on my behalf.) The 
 next day I waxed bolder still (I had had the nightmare 
 again), and repeated the dose. Not only that, I took 
 the odds myself in hundreds twice. 
 
 ' What are you making a dom'd fule o' yourseP for ?"" 
 inquired Mr. Robson, who was standing by, and wit- 
 nessed the transaction. 
 
 ' Only a bit of a hedge,' replied I. 
 
 ' Oh, that's the game, is it ?' said he, with a laugh. 
 ' Quite right, lad ; a bet's niver much good until it's 
 hedged.' 
 
 After that I drew in my horns, and waited anxiously 
 for the day which was to make me a man or a mouse. 
 
112 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 Twelve hundred pounds had I got on what looked 
 a dead loser. I got quite thin, I can assure you. 
 At length it came. Mr. Robson and I had sat up 
 all the previous night, and as I got into the train in 
 the small hours in the morning that was to take us to 
 the scene of action, I felt more like a boiled owl than 
 anything else. Well, out we all got somewhere in 
 Kent; the ring was pitched in a convenient field adjacent 
 to the line, the men pitched their castors into the ring, 
 and, as soon as they had completed their toilets, the 
 fight would begin. 
 
 I (still acting for the bookmaker) was in Jack 
 Roxby's corner, and I slipped the stipulated money 
 into his hands almost at the same moment that he 
 took off the stipulated draught (with a friendly wink 
 at me) that was to lose him the fight. A minute after 
 ' Time ' was called, and the men having shaken hands, 
 the fight began. 
 
 Lord bless you ! you never saw such a thing in your 
 life. The ' Bold Sailor Boy ' went for his man in such 
 a murderous style that I verily believe he almost 
 paralyzed him from the very beginning. The punish- 
 ment he gave him was something awful to witness, and 
 the round finished by Tom Ball falling with the sailor 
 atop of him amid such a hubbub as I never heard, and 
 above it all I could hear Mr. Robson's stentorian voice 
 bellowing forth his desire to back the champion (for he 
 didn't believe, you see, in Jack doing the trick in the 
 twenty minutes). Well, there is not much more to tell. 
 Tom Ball came up for Round No. 2 as game as a pebble, 
 but looking as serious as — I really can't give it a name, 
 gentlemen ; I never saw anyone look so serious — there ! 
 
THE BITER BIT 113 
 
 It did not much matter, though, how he looked, for they 
 had not been at it more than three minutes, hammer and 
 tongs, before the ' Bold Sailor Boy,' taking advantage 
 of a good opening, caught poor old Tom such a blow 
 in the throat as felled him to the ground insensible. 
 * Time !' Lord bless you ! you might as well have 
 shouted to a brick wall as poor Tom Ball. The fight 
 was all knocked out of him for some time to come, I can 
 tell you. 
 
 Of course the referee awarded the battle to Jack 
 Roxby, and you should have seen his delight when all 
 doubt on the subject was at rest, and he knew for 
 certain he was champion of England in real downright 
 earnest. He jumped clean over the ropes in his joy, 
 and hugged his seconds round the neck to that extent 
 that I thought he'd throttle them outright. As for me, 
 I did not dare face my patron, so made the best of my 
 way across country to the nearest town, and got back 
 to town by a later train. 
 
 How did Mr. James Robson take it ? Well, not 
 over well, as you may imagine. That unlucky (or shall 
 I say lucky) blow of Jack's that knocked Tom Ball out 
 of time cost him upwards of fifteen thousand pounds 
 — possibly more — and so disgusted him with the ' noble 
 art,' that (to use his own words) he determined for the 
 future ' to have nowt more to do wi proize-foightin', 
 lad.' 
 
 8 
 
JUST IN TIME 
 
 THE STATIONMASTER'S STORY 
 
 'It has just occurred to me,' observed our host and 
 chairman one night, ' that though he has kindly favoured 
 us with a song — and a very good song, too — whenever 
 it has come round to his turn to contribute to our 
 amusement, our much respected and popular station- 
 master, Mr. John Strong, has never obliged with a 
 story. Gentlemen, you, I know, are all well aware of the 
 fact that our worthy friend has been associated with the 
 Great Smashem and Crumplemup Railway going on for 
 a goodish long while, but you possibly don't know that 
 only this very day he completed his fortieth year of 
 service with the company, who, I am sure you will all 
 be pleased to hear, marked their approval of his conduct 
 whilst in their employ by presenting him with a very 
 handsome testimonial in the shape of a gold watch and 
 chain. 
 
 'Now, gentlemen, it is odd to me — and I fancy to 
 you, too — if during these forty years some incident 
 worth the relating has not come under our old friend's 
 notice; therefore, gentlemen, with your approval, I 
 
JUST IN TIME 115 
 
 beg to call on Mr. John Strong for a story, if he's got 
 one about him, and in the meanwhile I call upon you to 
 fill your glasses and drink to his jolly good health/ 
 
 Terrific applause followed this speech, the station- 
 master being evidently a very popular character, and a 
 general filling up of glasses was taking place when up 
 jumped Mr. Binks, the dashing young linen-draper in 
 the High Street, who occupied the post of vice-chairman 
 that evening, with : 
 
 ' Mr. Chairman and Gents, with your kind permission, 
 I should like to add an amendment to the toast just 
 mentioned, which is, that it should be drunk with 
 musical honours, and, if you'll allow me, I will lead the 
 chorus."* 
 
 And suiting the action to the word, the sporting 
 Binks burst forth with the time-honoured bacchanalian 
 chorus, 'For he's a jolly good fellow,' in which he 
 was promptly joined by the full strength of the 
 company. 
 
 When the hubbub and noise had ceased, the station- 
 master, a fine stalwart man, carrying his sixty years 
 remarkably well, rose from his seat, and thanking the 
 company in a few modest words for the honour they 
 had done him, wound up by saying that our host was 
 quite correct in surmising as he had. During his 
 service with the company a somewhat remarkable event 
 had occurred, ' the particulars of which, gentlemen,' said 
 John Strong, as he resumed his chair, ' I shall be pleased 
 to relate to you, if you care to hear them ;' and the 
 stationmaster, taking as signs of approval the renewed 
 clattering of glasses and fists on the table, commenced, 
 without more ado, the following story : 
 
 8—2 
 
116 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 I don't know whether any of the present company 
 have ever known what it is to number amongst the 
 members of your family a young man — a son, say, or a 
 brother or nephew — who, with a natural disinclination 
 to honest work of any sort, is no good to himself nor 
 anyone about him — the class of young man, in short, 
 that is usually termed a scamp. 
 
 A sort of subdued growl going up in response led to 
 the supposition that such a luxury was not altogether 
 unknown to some of the members of the Club. 
 
 Because, Fm sorry to say, that some years ago I had 
 just such a one as I have described tacked on to my 
 tail. Ah, gentlemen, when on her death-bed my poor 
 widowed sister left me, by way of a legacy, her only 
 child, and begged me with almost her last breath to 
 take care of little George after she had gone, I had no 
 idea, I can assure you, of what a ' benefit ' I was letting 
 myself in for. However, there it was, and it could not 
 be helped. My poor sister died quite happy, poor dear ! 
 now that she knew that there was a home provided for 
 her little one. After I had seen to everything, true to 
 my promise, I brought the little lad back home along 
 with me, and my wife took to him, it is no exaggeration 
 to say, quite as if he was one of her own. We had no 
 boys of our own as it happened, nothing but girls, so, 
 perhaps, that was one reason why little George was the 
 more welcome, for my wife had sadly wanted a boy, and 
 so had I for that matter. I was a guard then in the 
 company's service, and lived at Sleaford, in a little row 
 of houses called Alma Cottages, close to the station, so 
 as to be handy to my work. 
 
 Well, gentlemen, time went on, and before I could 
 
JUST IN TIME 117 
 
 scarcely believe it, little George, who I had brought 
 home with me a little curly-headed fellow just able to 
 talk, was uow getting on to be quite a young man. 
 Of course, my duties taking me away as they did all 
 day, I was not able to look after my charge myself, and 
 was obliged to leave everything to my wife in that 
 respect. I was away from five in the morning until 
 half-past twelve, when I had a couple of hours for my 
 dinner and a sleep ; after that I was on duty again 
 until nine at night, and when I did come home, you 
 may depend that after I had had my supper it was not 
 very long before I turned into bed, for by that time I 
 used to feel pretty well fagged out. Meanwhile, 
 George went to school, and being a bright, sharp lad, 
 got on very rapidly ; and being well-behaved as well, I 
 really thought he would turn out a credit to us both, 
 especially when prizes and certificates for exemplary 
 conduct kept tumbling in as they did at the end 
 of every term. Oh, we were quite proud of our 
 nephew, my wife and me, I can tell you, gentle- 
 men. 
 
 At last the time came for him to leave school, and 
 turn his attention to the more serious business of life, 
 and, by way of a beginning, I was lucky enough to get 
 him into the booking-office at our station at a salary 
 of fourteen shillings a week to begin with. He was 
 only sixteen, so I thought with reason that he was a 
 lucky chap to commence life so well. When I came 
 back to dinner that Saturday afternoon, and told them 
 at home, they were all as pleased as I was, George 
 especially. 
 
 ' Hurrah !' says he. ' Now, uncle, I shall be able to 
 
118 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 repay you and aunt for some of your kindness to me 
 all these years.** 
 
 ' Say nothing about that, my lad,' replied I (though 
 I was pleased all the same) ; * only behave yourself, work 
 hard, and be a credit to us, and that's all we want — 
 isn't it, missis ?' appealing to my wife. 
 
 ' Indeed it is,' she replied. ' We're all pleased to 
 have him here. George knows that well enough, and 
 I'm sure the dear boy will be all we wish and more, 
 won't you, George ?' 
 
 ' Of course he will, mother,' blurted out Sophy, our 
 eldest girl, always George's champion, if ever he wanted 
 one, blushing like a peony as she spoke. 
 
 We had a little something extra for supper that 
 Saturday evening, I remember, and it was a happy 
 party sat down to it, I can tell you, gentlemen. As I 
 sat and smoked my pipe afterwards by the fireside with 
 my dear wife's hand in mine, gazing at my three girls 
 and George, all laughing and chatting merrily round us, 
 I felt that contented — well, words can't express how 
 contented I felt. ' If it's always going to be like this,' I 
 thought to myself, 'life will indeed be worth having.' 
 Well, George began his new employment on the Monday, 
 and for a while everything went as smooth as smooth 
 could be. He liked the work (he always was quick at 
 figures), and gave satisfaction to those above him. ' If he 
 only keeps steady, Mr. Strong,' said the head booking-, 
 clerk to me one day, ' your nephew will do well in the 
 world, for a nicer, better-behaved lad I never had under 
 me.' So pleased was I with that remark of the head clerk's, 
 that before going home to my dinner that day I made 
 a round of it into the town and bought a silver watch 
 
JUST IN TIME 119 
 
 for George, as an encouragement for him to go on in 
 the way he was doing, and to show him how pleased I 
 was with his conduct. Well, gentlemen, time went on ; 
 George had been now a little over a year in the booking- 
 office, his screw had been raised, and he was, I believed 
 (having heard nothing to the contrary), going on as well 
 as ever. He was now just eighteen, and a good-looking, 
 smart young fellow as ever you saw, and good-hearted 
 as well, always thinking of his aunt and cousins and me, 
 he was, and bringing us little presents, more especially 
 to Sophy, to whom he was now regularly engaged, to 
 her mother's and my great delight. I thought nothing 
 of those presents at the time, knowing as I did that, 
 living at home with us for nothing, he had plenty of 
 money ; but my wife made a remark about it one night 
 when we were by ourselves, and said she hoped George 
 wasn't going too fast. ' I don^t like that sporting paper 
 the dear lad's always got in his pocket, John,' said she, 
 ' and he smokes much more than is good for him, I fancy. 
 I only hope he's not getting into extravagant habits.'' 
 I was sleepy at the time, and rather pooh-poohed the 
 missis I remember, and the next day, bless you, I had 
 forgotten all about it. However, I was to be disagree- 
 ably reminded of her words, as it happened, for two 
 days afterwards, Mr. Ablett, the head clerk (the same 
 who had spoke about George before, and said how well 
 he liked him), meeting me on the platform just as I was 
 leaving the train to go off to my dinner, hailed me, and 
 asked me to step on one side for a moment, as he had 
 something to say to me. 
 
 'I want to say a word to you about your nephew, 
 John,' says he to me ; * I know you won't like it, but I 
 
120 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 can''t help that ; it must be said. The long and short of 
 it is, John, he ain't going on as he should do. He's 
 fallen into bad company, and got into bad ways, and if 
 he isn't stopped from going on as he is at present he'll 
 go to the bad, John Strong, that's what he'll do. Now, 
 I like the lad,' he continued, * and I don't want to see 
 him come to harm, when a word in season might set 
 him straight, so I determined to let you know at once 
 before things got worse.' 
 
 And thus, gentlemen, it all came out, and I give you 
 my word, what I heard nearly broke my heart. It 
 appeared that he had formed an acquaintance with a 
 lazy, dissolute scamp, named Sam Crook, a fellow who 
 had formerly been a clerk in the telegraph department 
 at the station, and been discharged from there for 
 communicating the contents of private telegrams, 
 having reference to racing results, to others than those 
 whom they were addressed to. Since that he had lived 
 by his wits — as it is called — another word, in my 
 humble opinion, for general dishonesty. ' Give a dog 
 a bad name,' they say, 'and hang him.' I can only 
 say that, according to that, Sam Crook should have 
 been hung long ago, for a man with a worse character 
 than he bore wasn't in the town, as I very well knew ; 
 consequently, when I heard that not only was he con- 
 stantly loafing about the station and talking to my 
 boy whenever he got a chance, but the pair were con- 
 tinually together of a night, playing bagatelle and 
 cards at a low public-house, called the Wheel of 
 Fortune, kept by an ex-pugilist and betting man, and 
 the resort of all the low characters in the place, you 
 may imagine how I trembled for poor George. Not 
 
JUST IN TIME 121 
 
 only that, there was poor Sophy to think about. Why, 
 I would sooner have seen her in her grave, dearly as I 
 loved her, than she should be mated to a man of the 
 same description as this Crook ; and so fond of George 
 as she was too ! 
 
 ' It^s a blow to you, I can see,** said Mr. Ablett, * but 
 it's best that you should know. These trials have to 
 be borne, you know ; and besides," he added kindly, 
 ' " a stitch in time saves nine."' You know the old say- 
 ing, eh, John ? So cheer up, and don't take what IVe 
 told you too much to heart all at once. Reason with 
 the lad, John, quietly, and you'll get him to keep in 
 the right road yet.' And so saying, Mr. Ablett shook 
 hands, and went back to his office. 
 
 Well, I went home to dinner, but I had no appetite, 
 and, making the excuse to my wife and Sophy that I 
 had got a bit of a headache, I lit my pipe and went out 
 for a stroll. You may depend I did not let out the 
 real state of the case to either of them. As luck would 
 have it, I hadn't gone very far before who should I run 
 across but Mr. Clutchit, our Superintendent of Police. 
 'Hallo, John!' says he; 'why, what's up along with 
 you ? By the looks of you, I should say your dinner 
 hadn't agreed with you.' 
 
 Now, I knew Mr. Clutchit well, and as he was a man 
 I had a very great respect for and every confidence in, I 
 up and told him what was the matter with me. ' I've 
 known it, John, this long time,' he replied, ' and have 
 been sorry to know it, too, for your sake and all your 
 sakes, and I can assure you this : that I've had it on the 
 tip of my tongue, more than once, to tell you what I 
 have seen going on for some time past. One thing is 
 
122 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 certain : that if Mr. Ablett hadn't told you, I must have 
 before long, for I should, as a friend, have considered it 
 my duty so to do. Now, look here, old friend, seeing's 
 believing, isn't it ? Well, there's a Derby sweep on at 
 the Wheel of Fortune, and the draw takes place this 
 very night. When you leave your train, John, instead 
 of going home, just you slip down there quietly and 
 judge for yourself. It'll shame the lad, if there's any 
 shame in him, as I fancy there is, and you can then 
 take him home along with you and give him a good 
 talking to. Maybe I'll be there or thereabouts myself ; 
 I can't say for certain, though, just at the present 
 moment. Anyhow, I shall give orders to one of my 
 men to be pretty handy about nine o'clock, so that if 
 there should be a row, you've got nothing to do but 
 blow that railway whistle of yours, and you'll have 
 someone at your elbow before you can say Jack 
 Robinson. I should advise you, though, to keep your 
 temper well in hand, for it don't do no good kicking 
 up a shindy in a low den like the Wheel of Fortune if 
 it's possible to avoid it. There are some chaps go 
 there, bless you, who, if they did get you down, wouldn't 
 be at all particular about using your head for a football 
 if they got half a chance, I can assure you ' — with which 
 friendly counsel Inspector Clutchit bade me good after- 
 noon, and proceeded on his way, and I made tracks for 
 the station to attend to my duties. The inspector's 
 advice was sound, I thought, and I determined to take 
 it. ' Yes,' thought I, as I jumped into my van, ' I'll pay 
 a visit to the Wheel of Fortune this very night, and 
 judge for myself. It can do no harm, and may do a 
 great deal of good.' 
 
JUST IN TIME 123 
 
 Accordingly, when I landed back at Sleaford Station 
 at 8.45 that night, as soon as ever I had seen to my 
 parcels and way bills, I sent off a note by a porter who 
 lived down our way to my wife, saying that I shouldn't 
 be back until ten o'clock, perhaps later, having business 
 to see to in the town ; and having taken a glass of ale 
 and a bite of something in the refreshment department, 
 I lit a pipe and walked down through the town to the 
 Wheel of Fortune. The public-house in question was 
 a low, dirty-looking house, situated in a back-street — 
 quite in the slums, in fact — and thinks I to myself as 
 I looked at it from across the road, if the inside of the 
 house is anything similar to the outside, it must indeed 
 be a nice place. I felt quite shy of entering the den, I 
 do assure you, gentlemen ; not that I was afraid, you 
 understand, but I felt as if I was losing my respectability 
 by so doing. However, repeating the old saying to 
 myself, ' In for a penny in for a pound,' I was just 
 about to walk across the road, when a voice behind me 
 calling out my name brought me to a sudden standstill, 
 and turning round I confronted a policeman who had 
 suddenly emerged from some dark corner. 
 
 ' Hold hard a minute, Mr. Strong,' said he; 'Inspector 
 Clutchit sent me to tell you not to go in yonder until 
 he came, which '11 be, I reckon, in about ten minutes or 
 a quarter of an hour from now. There's a rare nice lot 
 in the old Wheel of Fortune to-night, Mr. Strong, and 
 one in pertickler who answers very well to the descrip- 
 tion of a chap as is wanted by the London police for 
 burglary and attempted murder, and the guv'nor hopes 
 to lay hold of him if, as we fancy, it is the man as is 
 wanted. There's likely enough to be a bit of a scrim- 
 
124 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 mage,"* added the policeman ; ' it's almost a pity you 
 haven't got a bit of timber along with you, Mr. Strong.' 
 
 ' Oh, never mind about me,' says I in chaff; ' they'll 
 find me Strong enough, I fancy, if I am called upon to 
 defend myself.' 
 
 ' Well, I hope you won't be,' was the reply ; ' there's 
 nothing like being prepared, though.' A second after 
 he added, ' I fancy I can see the inspector a-coming 
 along ; if you don't mind, Mr. Strong, we'll just go 
 forward and meet him in case anyone from over the 
 way catches sight of us. We don't want the London 
 "sparrer" we are in search of to fly away afore we can 
 put some salt on his tail, if we can help it. There's 
 fifty pounds reward, too, offered for his capture, so my 
 gentleman '11 be worth the catching if we do succeed in 
 laying hold of him. 
 
 ' Well, John, you've taken my advice, it seems,' said 
 Inspector Clutchit, who now came up, accompanied by 
 three plain-clothes men. 'A word in your ear,' he 
 went on, taking me on one side and speaking in a 
 hoarse whisper. 'There's a rare game on to-night at 
 the Wheel of Fortune. I didn't know it when I met 
 you this morning, or I am not sure that I should have 
 advised you're coming. It's just this, my boy : there's 
 one of the most desperate housebreakers in London in 
 the crib to-night ; I know it for certain, and what's 
 more to the purpose, I mean to have him by hook or 
 by crook. Now, I have been thinking that you can be 
 of the very greatest service to us in this matter, if you 
 don't mind. What say you : will you give us your help 
 or not ? I may as well say at once there is sure to be 
 a row and probably an ugly one ; so that if you don't 
 
JUST IN TIME 125 
 
 care to be mixed up in it, I should advise your going 
 straight home at once. What's it to be? Til see 
 young George all right in either case, never fear." 
 
 Weil, gentlemen, to tell you the truth, I didn't much 
 fancy being in this scrimmage, if scrimmage there was 
 to be, for many reasons that you may well understand. 
 There was my wife to consider for one, and my character 
 and reputation with the railway company for another. 
 Then, on the other hand, thinks I to myself, if any 
 harm does come of it, the inspector is bound to see me 
 through it all right, as it was entirely at his suggestion 
 I am here. Not only that, I'm not above saying that I 
 was rather anxious to see this party run in, and apart 
 from the look of the thing, in my heart of hearts, I 
 was not at all averse to a bit of a rough and tumble, 
 for as a young man there was no one fonder of a turn 
 with the boxing-gloves or at wrestling than I was, and 
 being a stiff - built sort of chap, I could generally 
 manage to hold my own with the best of 'em. So after 
 a very short amount of consideration I turned round to 
 Mr. Clutchit and told him he was welcome to any 
 service I could render him in the matter, and there was 
 my hand on it. 
 
 The inspector shook it warmly. 
 
 ' You're a tinimp, John, that's what you are ! a game- 
 cock of the first water ! I was certain you'd want to 
 have a look in. Bless your heart, you needn't be afraid 
 of the railway company saying anything ; I'll square 
 them. Now, I'll tell you what I propose to do. 
 First of all,' said the inspector, taking hold of one 
 of my coat buttons in one hand and tapping my chest 
 with the forefinger of his other hand, by way of 
 
126 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 emphasizing his words — ' first of all, I want you to go 
 into the house just like an ordinary customer come in 
 to have a glass of old-and-bitter, look in at the sweep 
 drawn, and put a quiet half-sovereign on Fly-by-Night 
 for the Derby. That's what you've come in for. Wery 
 good. You goes in, and the first thing you sees is your 
 nephew in company with that confounded young vaga- 
 bond of a Sam Crook. I shall have the darbies on Mm 
 before long, you'll see. Good again ! You remonstrate 
 with your nephew for consorting with such a blackguard 
 as Sam Crook, and urge him to come home at once. 
 Sam cuts up rusty at being abused, and gives the rough 
 edge of his tongue in turn. You lose your temper and 
 very naturally knock him down. The company will 
 take Sam's part, and go for you ; you yell blue murder, 
 and then I and my men come to the rescue. There will 
 be a general rush to escape, and the boys will walk into 
 the arms of a lot more of my constables, who have 
 quietly formed a cordon round the house. There !' ex- 
 claimed Mr. Clutchit, giving me a hearty smack on the 
 shoulder, and looking at me with an air of pride, as 
 much as to say. Ain't I a clever boy ? — ' that's my plan, 
 and if between us all we don't land our friend from 
 London, why, you're one Dutchman and Fm another, 
 and that's all about it.' 
 
 ' Well, yes, I think that ought to do the trick, 
 Mr. C.,' said I, moving as if to be off; 'I think the 
 plan's a good one, and Fll lose no time in performing 
 my part of it. By the way, you may as well tell me 
 what sort of a looking chap this is that's wanted so 
 badly ; I might make sure of him, perhaps, for you 
 before you turn up.' 
 
JUST IN TIME 127 
 
 ' Ah, I forgot that,^ said the inspector. ' It will be 
 as well, as you say, and if you should happen to tackle 
 him, John, before we come, why, half the reward of fifty 
 pounds is yours, in course. There's his photograph,** 
 says he, pulling a carte de visite out of his pocket and 
 taking me under the street lamp so that I could see it 
 better. ' He's got reddish hair, and has grown a 
 moustache since this was done, and I believe he's wear- 
 ing a catskin cap and a suit of clothes of a greenish 
 plaid pattern.' 
 
 Well, gentlemen, there being nothing more to be 
 said, I once more made tracks for the Wheel of Fortune, 
 and, having arrived there in due course, I pushed open 
 the swing doors and marched boldly in. There weren't 
 a great many in the bar — ^just one or two cattle-drovers 
 and such like — what there were, though, were of a 
 pretty dingy sort, you can lay a wager. 
 
 ' Is the draw over yet, miss ?' I inquired of the flash- 
 looking barmaid as I entered. 
 
 ' No, it ain't ; it hasn't long begun,' was the reply ; 
 ' you'll find 'em busy at it upstairs in the club-room if 
 you'll step up.' 
 
 Accordingly, up a very rickety, evil-smelling stair- 
 case I stepped, and on the first landing found the 
 apartment in question, and, the door being open, I 
 stepped in and joined the company there assembled. 
 And such a company as it was ! I don't think I ever 
 did see such a low lot of blackguards as were seated on 
 Windsor chairs at the long table that ran all down the 
 room. At the end sat a big bloated-looking ruffian, 
 whom it did not need much telling was the landlord, 
 the ex-prize-fighter, his scarred face and broken nose 
 
128 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 telling their own tale. The draw was evidently just 
 over, and the company were now busily engaged in 
 betting on the Derby, the landlord — betting-book in 
 hand — having apparently as much as he could do, 
 judging by the numerous bets he kept jotting down. 
 Just as I entered the room a fresh young voice from the 
 far end of the room shouted out : ' Now then, Joe, 
 when are you going to attend to me ? How much 
 Shillelagh for the Derby T 
 
 I could scarcely believe my ears, and I peered through 
 the tobacco smoke so as to make sure. It was, as I 
 thought, none other than young George. There he 
 sat, sure enough, with a long pipe in his mouth and a 
 glass of spirits-and- water before him, and at his side 
 the scoundrel Mr. Ablett had warned me against, Sam 
 Crook. My bile rose at the sight, I can tell you, gentle- 
 men. I waited for more, though, before I said any- 
 thing. 
 
 ' Wot price Shillelagh ? Oh, height to won to you, 
 George ? shouted back Mr. Joe Daggs ; ' 'ow much to ?' 
 
 ' A quid,** was my nephew^s response ; ' but Lm not 
 going to take those odds, Joe, you cheating old 
 vagabond ! I won't take less than tens, so don't 
 think it.' 
 
 ' Well, I s'pose you must 'ave it, a good customer 
 like you. Twenty pun to two, I'll lay yer if yer like.' 
 
 ' All right ; I'll take that,' shouted back George. 
 
 But my dander was up, and I could keep myself 
 under control no longer. 
 
 ' No, you won't, George !' shouted I, walking up the 
 room, and taking the astonished youth by the shoulder. 
 ' No you won't !' And snatching his betting book from 
 
JUST IN TIME 129 
 
 his hand, just as he was about to put the wager down, 
 I threw it into the fire. ' And now you just come 
 home with me directly,' said I to George, who by this 
 time had turned very white, for he was fairly taken by 
 surprise, so much so that he at once got on his legs, 
 and would have no doubt followed me out without a 
 word. 
 
 For a second the company generally did not speak, 
 for it was plain they were as much astonished at my 
 behaviour as George was. When, however, they saw 
 him preparing to leave the room they quickly found 
 their tongues, and all began to speak at once. 
 
 ' 'Ow about my bet ?' shouted Daggs. 
 
 ' Strike it off your book. YouVe got no business to 
 bet with a boy like that, and you ought to be ashamed 
 of yourself !' I roared back. ' Come away, George.' 
 
 But Mr. Crook must needs interfere, and, getting 
 between me and George, tried to hustle me, abusing me 
 like a pickpocket the while. At this I fairly lost my 
 temper, and letting out my right hand, I caught him 
 well between the eyes, and sent him down as if he was 
 shot. This was the signal for a general row. 
 
 They all rose to their feet at once, and a chair was 
 thrown at me which I only just avoided. I saw who 
 threw it — it was a man with a red moustache and a 
 catskin cap. In a second I was across the room and 
 had the ruffian by the throat. A momentary struggle, 
 and over we toppled, me uppermost, with our hands at 
 each other's throats. At that moment someone cried : 
 ' Look out ! here's the slops upon us !' and just as I 
 heard a trampling of many feet on the wooden stairs 
 outside, and thought to myself, ' Thank God ! here's 
 
 9 
 
130 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 the inspector at last !' I was struck a violent blow on 
 the head with some blunt instrument. My grasp 
 relaxed on my opponent's throat ; a darkness came 
 over my senses, and I remembered no more. 
 
 Well, gentlemen, when I came to myself and stared 
 vacantly about me, I found myself comfortably estab- 
 lished in bed in my own room, with my wife and 
 children in attendance on me. My first inquiry of 
 them was : Where was I ? my next : How long had I 
 been there ? 
 
 You may j udge of my astonishment when they told 
 me just ten days. Then I tried to collect my scattered 
 thoughts together, and after a bit the whole affair came 
 back to me : the visit to the Wheel of Fortune, the 
 row, the arrival of the police, and last, but not least, 
 the crack on the head received from some person un- 
 known. 
 
 I had been brought back insensible by the police, 
 said my wife, and in that state I had been ever since. 
 At first the doctor thought the skull was fractured, in 
 which event my case would have been hopeless ; but 
 eventually it was found that it was only concussion of 
 the brain, though a very severe one, and quite enough 
 to endanger my life, which, indeed, had hung literally 
 on a thread for some days. * And I shan't tell you any 
 more now, John,' added my wife, 'so just please to lie 1 
 quiet and ask no questions. The doctor left word that 
 directly you came to he was to be sent for, and 
 that no one was to be allowed to talk on any con- 
 sideration whatever.' 
 
 I knew this was good advice ; besides, whenever my 
 wife told me to do a thing I always did it, which I fancy 
 
JUST IN TIME 131 
 
 is more than some husbands can say, so I just lay still 
 and bided my time. 
 
 In the course of an hour the doctor, who had been 
 promptly sent for, arrived. One glance at me was 
 evidently quite sufficient. 
 
 ' You'll do,' he exclaimed the moment he saw me, the 
 cheery tone of his voice causing the anxious faces of my 
 wife and children to light up with pleasure. 
 
 Oh, it's wonderful the amount of comfort a doctor 
 brings into a house of sickness sometimes. One word 
 of encouragement from a practitioner you have faith in 
 very often does a patient more good than fifty bottles 
 of medicine. And it was so in this case ; for though I 
 felt very bad not five minutes before, the doctor's 
 confident manner had the effect of putting me on good 
 terms with myself at once. 
 
 I knew now that — to use a professional term — I was 
 not to be ' booked through ' this journey, at all events, 
 and judging by the expression of their faces — now all 
 smiles — my wife and children were also of the same 
 opinion. 
 
 ' Well, I've done all I can,' said the doctor, as, after 
 a long examination, he rose to take his departure, ' and 
 now nature must do the rest. Plenty of sleep, plenty 
 of beef-tea and such-like nourishments, and, above all, 
 plenty of rest, and you'll be as right as a trivet in a very 
 short space of time.' 
 
 Being a practical man, gentlemen, I acted up to the 
 doctor's advice to the letter. I took it out in sleep as 
 much as possible, I ate whenever I felt hungry (which 
 was pretty nigh all day, I recollect), and my wife, you 
 may be sure, took care I wasn't disturbed in any way. 
 
 9—2 
 
132 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 All visitors — and they were many — were warned off; 
 in fact, I saw nobody but the doctor and my own 
 belongings. Even Inspector Clutchit, who called 
 regularly every day to inquire, and whom I really 
 was anxious to see and have a chat with, wasn't 
 admitted. 
 
 At last came the day when for the first time I was 
 able to be moved into the sitting-room and see a little 
 company. The first thing that I noticed as I cast my 
 eye round was a photograph of George on the mantel- 
 piece, and then it flashed across me all of a sudden that 
 I had never seen him since I had been laid up, and to 
 the best of my recollection had not heard his name 
 mentioned. I could not have asked for him. 
 
 ' Oh, I must have had a rare crack on the head !' 
 thought L 
 
 I made up for deficiencies, however, by losing no 
 time in inquiring for him, with the result that Sophy 
 burst into tears and left the room, and my wife 
 sniffed. 
 
 Well, this was a pretty beginning ! ' What in the 
 world is the matter ?^ said I, rather irritably, I fear. 
 ' George is all right, isn't he ? He didn't get a crack 
 on the head as well as myself, did he ?' 
 
 ' Oh, John,' answered my wife, bursting into tears, 
 and burying her face in her apron, ' he's gone. I 
 didn't dare tell you before, dear, but he's never been 
 back since the night you was brought home so bad. 
 He went to bed all right, and started off, as we thought, 
 to the station as usual the next morning ; but he never 
 went there, and he has never returned since. I can't 
 bear to think of it, John, for I was as fond of George 
 
JUST IN TIME 133 
 
 as if he was my own son, and as for Sophy, she's quite 
 broken-hearted about it, poor girl !' 
 
 ' And hasn't he written a word since ?' I asked. 
 
 ' He wrote a line to Sophy ,"* said my wife, ' saying 
 that he had not the heart to face you after you had 
 discovered his goings on ; that he had sufficient (he 
 didn't say how he had obtained it) to start him in life, 
 and, not wishing to be a tax upon us any longer, he 
 thought it best for all parties that he should leave us. 
 
 ' He couldn't thank us sufficiently, he said, for all 
 our kindness to him, and we must not think him 
 uno;rateful for ffoino' as he did. He loved his dear 
 Sophy, he said, in conclusion, better than anything in 
 the wide world. He would always be true to her, and 
 the moment he could see his way to doing so, he would 
 come and claim her for his wife. 
 
 ' A nice, kind letter, John,' said my wife, snivelling 
 again into her apron. ' And, oh ! I do wish you hadn't 
 gone to that dreadful place that night, and none of 
 this would have happened. George would have been 
 here the same as usual, and you wouldn't have had that 
 broken head.' 
 
 Well, this news about George quite upset me, un- 
 expected as it was. I had hoped and thought that the 
 affair at the Wheel of Fortune would have acted as a 
 salutary lesson to him, and that for the future he would 
 have gone straight. As it was, if he got amongst his 
 old companions again he was certain to come to grief 
 eventually. 
 
 I had not much time for worrying myself, however, 
 for at that moment Inspector Clutchit was announced. 
 
 ' Well, John, old friend,' said he, as he shook me 
 
134 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 warmly by the hand, and sat down on the side of the 
 bed, ' Fm allowed at last to come and have a talk 
 with you. YouVe had a nasty tap on the head, John 
 Strong, but it hasn't done you any harm, my boy, 
 either physically or any other way. IVe made it all 
 straight with the railway people, you may be sure, and 
 they highly applaud your conduct. As Mr. Ablett 
 remarked to me only yesterday, in speaking of the 
 affair, " Ifs only what you might expect from John 
 Strong.'^ 
 
 ' Well," he continued, ' thanks to you, we popped the 
 darbies on Jim Norton, alias " Carrots," the cracksman 
 from London, and he's at this moment kicking his heels 
 at Millbank, waiting his trial at Old Bailey for burglary 
 and attempted murder. The Scotland Yard people 
 weren't at all wild at us country bumpkins getting the 
 reward ? Oh dear, no !' remarked the inspector sarcas- 
 tically. ' Twenty-five pounds apiece for both you and 
 me, John. Not a bad night's work on the whole, eh, 
 to say nothing of the honour and glory. I shouldn't 
 wonder,' said the inspector, whose spirits rose as he 
 went on — ' I shouldn't wonder, between you and me, if 
 the judge didn't make a few complimentary remarks 
 about us two at the trial — not a bit, I shouldn't. 
 
 ' Now about this nevvy of yours,' resumed the in- 
 spector. 'Don't you fret and worry about him. I've 
 spoke to the authorities at the station about him, and 
 they're ready to make any allowance, if only for your 
 sake, and take him back when he returns home, which 
 he will when he's spent all his money, you may depend. 
 It'll do him all the good in the world, in my opinion, 
 especially if he gets out-at-elbows, as he most assuredly 
 
JUST IN TIME 135 
 
 will before long, and finds he has to work for his bread 
 and cheese. 
 
 * Let him alone, John, that's my advice, and if he 
 writes don't take any notice of his letters. Wait till he 
 returns of his own accord, like the prodigal son, and 
 then kill the fatted calf for him and FU come and help 
 you to eat it. There's your gal, too. When I came 
 into the house, blowed if she wasn't doing her level best 
 to spoil them pretty blue eyes of hers by crying fit to 
 break her heart over a letter from your nevvy. 
 
 ' " Why, you should be above thinking about such a 
 worthless fellow as that," said I, in fun like, " much less 
 cry about him. Forget there ever was such a chap, my 
 dear; there's plenty o' better men than him would jump 
 for joy to-morrow if they could secure you for a sweet- 
 heart." Bless you, she up and turned on me like a 
 regular bull-dog in petticoats. 
 
 ' " You dare say another word against my George, 
 you cruel, wicked man, you!" said she, "and I'll ask 
 father never to let you into the house again. If he 
 does," said she, bursting into a fresh storm of sobs as 
 she left the room, " I'll run away myself." 
 
 ' You must make it up for me in that quarter, John,' 
 said the inspector, 'for she's a girl for a father to be 
 proud of, in my opinion. Tell the pretty dear I didn't 
 mean what I said, bless her heart ! and that I like her 
 all the better for what she said.' 
 
 Well, gentlemen, the inspector's words about George 
 were a great comfort to me, and I thought his advice 
 sound, and determined to abide by it. In another fort- 
 night I was quite myself again and able to go about 
 my duties the same as usual, and as there is nothing 
 
136 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 like work, and plenty of it, to drive away dull care, 
 George's departure from his home soon ceased to worry 
 me. ' Out of sight, out of mind,' as one might say. He 
 never wrote to Sophy or any of us, so Avhether he was 
 doing well or badly we couldn't tell. T could see that 
 my wife and poor Sophy felt it keenly, but they never 
 complained — in fact, his name was never mentioned, 
 for though we had never said as much openly, it seemed 
 to be an understood thing between the three of us that 
 it should be so. Well, nearly a year had gone by since 
 the little affair at the Wheel of Fortune, and I had 
 nearly forgotten all about it, when one night, on my 
 arrival at Sleaford at 8.45, an event happened that 
 brought it all back to my memory in double-quick 
 time. 
 
 I had seen to my parcels and invoices, said good- 
 night all round, and was just leaving the station to go 
 home, wondering, I remember, what the missus had got 
 for supper, for I was uncommonly sharp-set, when a 
 man, suddenly emerging from the darkness, accosted me. 
 
 ' Who is it ?"" said I, for coming suddenly out of the 
 bright station into the dark is apt to be confusing to 
 the sight — ' who is it ?' 
 
 'Don't be hard upon me, uncle; it's me — George,' 
 he falteringly answered. 
 
 ' George ! my nephew George !' I exclaimed ; and 
 seizing whoever it was by the arm, I dragged him to 
 the nearest lamp-post to have a better look. 
 
 What, this miserable, half-starved scarecrow my good- 
 looking nephew ! I could scarcely believe my eyes at 
 first. 
 
 'Don't be hard upon me, uncle,' said he in trembling 
 
JUST IN TIME 137 
 
 accents. ' I know youVe done with me for good and 
 all ; it's only what I might expect. I only ask you for 
 a shilling or two, just to buy me a crust of bread, for, 
 God help me ! I've had nothing to eat for two days.' 
 
 As he said this he tottered, and would have fallen 
 had I not caught him. Nature had given way at last, 
 and he was in a dead faint. Luckily my house was 
 close handy, so, putting my arm round poor George, 
 I half dragged, half carried him thither without much 
 difficulty. 
 
 The poor chap's look when he came to and found 
 himself in the room he knew so well, sitting in the old 
 leather chair, with Sophy on one side of him dabbing 
 his forehead with vinegar, and his aunt on the other 
 crying for joy, I shall never forget. As luck would have 
 it, my wife, by way of a treat, had actually got me a 
 veal cutlet for my supper, so, as I said to her : 
 
 ' Well, old woman, it's true we haven't got a fatted 
 calf for our prodigal on his return, but we've got a part 
 of one, that's very certain.' 
 
 It was remarkable, when you come to think of it, for 
 veal cutlet was quite an unusual supper for me, I do 
 assure you. 
 
 For some few days poor George was very weak and 
 ill, but kind treatment and good food gradually made 
 another man of him. I think what he felt most was 
 that he never got from one of us a single reproach for 
 his former bad conduct. He seemed to have felt it as 
 his due somehow. 
 
 ' Don't refer to the past,' were my orders to the missus 
 and Sophy. ' What's done can't be undone, and there 
 is nothing to be gained by raking up old grievances. 
 
138 ANNALS OF THE HOKSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 Besides, isn't George going to be a good boy for the 
 future ? Why, of course he is ! I'll get him taken on 
 at the station again before many days are over our 
 heads, and he'll get on like a house afire, I know, and 
 then, when he gets a screw worth the having, why, 
 Sophy shall maiTy and make a man of him — shan't 
 you, Sophy ?' 
 
 The very next day I was as good as my word, and 
 went and spoke to my good friend Mr. Ablett about 
 George. He was kindness itself, as I knew he would be. 
 ' I quite agree with you,' said he, ' when you say that the 
 lad has had a lesson that he won't forget in a hurry, 
 and so far from doing him harm, it has probably been 
 the means of doing him a great deal of good. Only let 
 him get rid of his bad associates, and he will do well, I 
 have no doubt. At the end of a week, John, I have 
 no doubt I shall be able to find a berth of some sort 
 or another for your lad. I will do my best, you may 
 depend.' 
 
 So I went home that night with a light heart, and 
 we were a cheerful party at the supper-table, I can 
 tell you. 
 
 After the women had gone to bed, George, for the 
 first time (for I had never asked him), told me what he 
 had been doing during his absence. He had been 
 betting, it seems, unbeknown to all of us, for a long 
 while before the fracas at the Wheel of Fortune, and 
 having succeeded in winning nearly forty pounds, like 
 many a young man before him, imagined he had at last 
 got upon a regular Tom Tiddlers' Ground. After he 
 went away in disgrace he travelled about with his 
 friend, Sam Crook, and two or three more, to the 
 
JUST IN TIME 139 
 
 different races, and for a time all went well. He kept 
 on winning, and thought he was in for making a for- 
 tune. At last his luck turned completely. He never 
 seemed able to back a winner, and finally was reduced 
 to the plight I saw him in when he accosted me that 
 night at Sleaford Station. 
 
 ' And oh, uncle !' exclaimed George, when he had 
 finished his story, ' Fll never go wrong again. You can 
 trust me for that. I don't deserve such kindness as I 
 have received at your hands, uncle, and everybody else'*s, 
 if it comes to that, since I came back here — I know I 
 don't ! God bless you for it, uncle ! 
 
 And poor George, bursting into tears, gave my hand 
 a squeeze, and left the room. I had no fear for my 
 poor sister's boy after that, and the pipe I smoked 
 before I went to bed I really think was the pleasantest 
 I ever smoked in my life. Before I finished it a great 
 many things had happened in the future, and all for 
 the best you may depend. Three days after this con- 
 versation another event happened that affected both 
 George's future career and mine in a most remarkable 
 manner. It was Sunday afternoon, and being a wet 
 day I wasn't disposed for my usual Sunday's walk into 
 the country, so made up my mind for a pipe, and 
 perhaps a nap afterwards in the great easy -chair 
 instead. Now, I wanted to send a message to another 
 railway guard, a friend of mine, who lived at the other 
 end of the town, so I asked George if he would mind 
 going there for me. 
 
 Up he jumped, delighted to be of any use (it was 
 astonishing how eager the poor young chap was to be 
 of the slightest service to any of us now), so accordingly 
 
140 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 off he went. It was three o'clock when he started, and 
 we expected him back in an hour easy ; but it was tea- 
 time before he turned up again, and when he did, he 
 was that pale that I thought he was ill or something. 
 My wife and Sophy noticed it too, you may be sure. 
 
 ' Anything the matter, George ?' said L 
 
 ' Well, uncle," replied George, ' something is the 
 matter, to tell you the truth, but it's nothing that 
 need make any of you uncomfortable. Only I met 
 somebody I did not want to see. But I think I won't 
 say any more about it now ; if you'll give me half an 
 hour after tea is over, uncle, I'll tell you all about it.' 
 
 Accordingly, as soon as we had finished tea, my wife 
 and the children went out of the room and left us to 
 ourselves. 
 
 The door was hardly closed on them and the tea- 
 things before George, who I could see was in a regular 
 suppressed state of excitement, starts up and exclaims : 
 
 ' Uncle, I've heard something to-day that ought to 
 make both our fortunes straight off the reel ! Uncle, 
 as I was coming home, after leaving your message at 
 Mr. Clark's, I met Sam Crook.' 
 
 ' What, that blackguard !' I answered sharply, look- 
 ing hard at George the while. ' I was in hopes, after 
 all that has passed, you had done with him at all 
 events. Not much of a fortune to be made in connec- 
 tion with Mr. Samuel Crook, I should imagine, rather 
 the reverse ; and I'll tell you something, George,' said I, 
 speaking as sternly as I could : * so long as you keep up 
 your acquaintance with that vagabond and others like 
 him, I won't do a thing for you, so mind that. I mean 
 what I say, I assure you.' 
 
JUST IN TIME 141 
 
 ' Hear me out, uncle, in common fairness, please^ 
 before you judge me,"* replied George. ' I pledge you 
 my word, to begin with, that I am no more anxious for 
 Sam Crook's acquaintance than you are. Now listen 
 to my story, uncle : When I saw Sam coming along, I 
 was for avoiding him, but he would insist on stopping 
 me, as he said he had something most particular to say ; 
 and as I was afraid of his coming hanging about after 
 me at the station, or at home, uncle, I stopped to hear 
 what he'd got to say. Says he : " George, old pal, I 
 know I've been the cause of losing the most of your 
 money for you — not that it was my fault so much as 
 those cussed race-horses — and now, as some sort of 
 return, Fm going to put you up to a real good thing — 
 something, George, what'll bring you in a lump of 
 money all at once, and enable you to go racin' again, 
 like a real gentleman sportsman.'"* (He knew nothing 
 about the railway company taking me on again, you 
 see.) Well, I cannot say, uncle, 1 was anxious to hear 
 what this wonderful scheme of his was, but I stopped 
 and listened to what he had to say. Oh, and it was 
 something worth hearing, too, uncle. Such a scheme 
 of wickedness as I never heard of before, excepting in 
 a book, or you either. And this is what it was, uncle. 
 Of course, he swore me to secrecy, but where such a 
 murdering villain — yes, I say murdering villain !' ex- 
 claimed George emphatically, giving the table as he 
 spoke a blow with his fist — 'as Sam Crook is con- 
 cerned, I don't feel that I am in the least doing 
 wrong in exposing him. Next week Slumborough 
 Races are on, as you know, and on Tuesday the Great 
 Slumborough Handicap, on which there has been a 
 
142 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 lot of betting for a long time past, comes off. The 
 first favourite, and has been all along (don^t be cross 
 about my knowing all about it), is a horse called 
 Aristocrat, by — oh, but I forgot, you won't care to 
 hear all about his breed. He is trained at Coverdale, 
 about forty miles from here, I believe.' 
 
 ' Yes, that's right,' said I ; ' I know the place well, 
 and there are some downs there, I've heard, where they 
 train horses.' 
 
 ' Well, uncle,' continued George, ' Sam Crook some- 
 how or other has found out that Aristocrat and three 
 or four stable companions are to be carried by a special 
 train to-morrow, getting to Sleaford Junction at five 
 o'clock in the evening. There is nothing in that, of 
 course. Now for where the wickedness comes in. 
 
 ' Sam Crook has been bribed by a bookmaker whose 
 pay he is in — a thousand, the scoundrel has promised 
 him — to lay a large block of stone on the line just 
 beyond Crawford Bridge, so as to upset the train and 
 kill the favourite, whom he has laid heavily against, 
 and who everybody says is perfectly certain to win, bar 
 accident. But what a dreadful thing, uncle ! Why, 
 if the train were to go over that steep embankment 
 everybody in it would be killed as well as the 
 horse.' 
 
 ' The infernal scoundrels ! And they want you to 
 help, do they .?' exclaimed I. 
 
 ' Yes, uncle,' replied George ; ' Sam said he should 
 have liked only us two in it, but not being able, he 
 said, to get hold of me in the morning, though he had 
 been loafing about outside our place for a long while, 
 he had been obliged to let a third man into the secret, 
 
JUST IN TIME 143 
 
 a man who I used to know, uncle — the son of the land- 
 lord of the Wheel of Fortune. 
 
 'Then let the two of 'em do the job between them," 
 said I, ' IF THEY CAN ! Keep this to yourself, George, 
 and not a word to your aunt and cousins, mind — not 
 even dear Sophy. Fm going round to the station for 
 a minute on some business, but shall be back in three- 
 quarters of an hour. Wait here until I return, and 
 then we will talk further about the matter.' 
 
 So, putting on my hat, I went out. My object in 
 going was to get leave of absence for the morrow, and 
 this I easily obtained. I then returned home, and as 
 soon as the women had retired to bed, I unfolded to 
 George my plans for defeating the infamous project he 
 had told me about. In the morning I had settled in 
 my mind to go straight to our stationmaster and tell 
 him in strict confidence all that I had heard. I in- 
 tended suggesting to him that he should wire to the 
 station from where the horseboxes were to start, warn- 
 ing them to tell the driver of the train to slacken speed 
 some little time before he reached Crawford Bridge, as 
 there would be ' danger ahead."* That being settled, so 
 that in case the blocks of stone were actually on the 
 line no danger would arise, I turned my attention to 
 what part we — George and I, that is — were to perform. 
 I proposed that we should hide in a fir plantation there 
 was adjoining the line, wait until we had seen the two 
 conspirators with our own eyes place the blocks of 
 granite on the metals, and then rush in and capture 
 them red-handed. 
 
 ' And now,' said I, ' we'll go to bed. Good-night, 
 George, my boy, and mind, the first thing in the morn- 
 
144 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 ing be sure and send a message round to that highly 
 respectable public-house, the Wheel of Fortune, where 
 you say Sam Crook is staying, and say how sorry you 
 are that you can't join him and his friend in their 
 little excursion as you (ha, ha !) have another engage- 
 ment on hand that you must keep."* 
 
 Well, gentlemen, I'm pleased to say that my plan 
 came off just like a piece of machinery. Our station- 
 master entered into the spirit of the thing with the 
 greatest alacrity, and made things safe by telegraph 
 just as I suggested. He was rather partial to a bit of 
 racing was our stationmaster, and as it turned out had 
 a five-pound note invested, on the quiet, on Aristocrat 
 for Wednesday's race, so of course was extra keen about 
 it. That part of the business settled, George and I, 
 taking some bread and meat and a pocket pistol full of 
 spirits and water, and armed with two good thick sticks, 
 started off in a roundabout direction for the fir planta- 
 tion. There we secreted ourselves, enjoyed our lunch 
 and a quiet smoke after, and bided our time. 
 
 We watched the two villains arrive ; we watched 
 them roll with immense difficulty — Lord ! how they 
 puffed and blew, and swore, no doubt ! — a great piece 
 of granite from the stone quarry close by, and place it 
 right on to the line ; and then, when they were just 
 climbing the rails that bordered the line, we met them 
 face to face. You should just have seen Sam Crook's 
 face when he saw George. 
 
 ' It's my turn now, Sam Crook,' said I. * I fancy that 
 I'm indebted to you for that crack on the head I got at 
 the Wheel of Fortune some months ago, and I'll repay 
 you with interest.' And with that I rushed at him to 
 
JUST IN TIME 145 
 
 take him. He was too nimble, though, for me, for he 
 stepped on one side and I fell head over heels, and as I 
 rose to my feet he presented a revolver at my head and 
 fired. The bullet went clean through my billycock hat, 
 and before he could fire again a blow from my stick 
 felled him like a bullock at the shambles. Turning 
 round, I saw George and Wheel of Fortune junior 
 locked in deadly embrace on the ground, George under- 
 most. I very soon released him, you may be sure, and 
 then we bound his opponent hand and foot with some 
 cord I had brought with me. Just then a prolonged 
 whistle was heard. ' Hurrah ! the train !' exclaimed 
 George; and so it was. Leaving our prisoners — one 
 insensible, the other well secured — away we both 
 rushed, and by our shouts brought it to a standstill. 
 There was the obstacle on the line to speak for itself. 
 Out jumped the trainer and one or two friends. When 
 I told them the story, showed them the stone on the 
 line, and then pointed out the depth of the embank- 
 ment, they were dumfounded, I can tell you, and grate- 
 ful as well — grateful is not the word, indeed. In less 
 than five minutes we had popped our prisoners into the 
 train, and, jumping in ourselves, the train was once 
 more put in motion, and we were soon landed safely at 
 Sleaford. There remains little to be told. Sam Crook 
 and his friend in crime were marched off to the police- 
 station, whilst Aristocrat and his stable companion, 
 little dreaming, poor things, of the danger they had 
 escaped, were walked off to their quarters for the 
 night, their trainer, as he shook me warmly by the 
 hand, saying : 
 
 'If you and your nephew don't come to the races 
 
 10 
 
146 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 to-morrow, and see our horse win, Fll never speak to 
 either of you again."* 
 
 We did go to the races, gentlemen — my wife and 
 me, and George and Sophy — and I think it was the 
 pleasantest day's outing I ever had in my life. Aristo- 
 crat won in a canter, and his owner, on behalf of him- 
 self and friends, presented me, before we left the course, 
 with a cheque for five hundred pounds, and a week after 
 with a valuable diamond scarf-pin, which I only wear on 
 •• high-days and holidays and bonfire -nights,' as the say- 
 ing is. Besides that, the railway company behaved 
 very handsome. I was appointed stationmaster here, 
 and George was looked after equally well. So much so 
 that he was enabled to marry Sophy before another 
 year was over. 
 
 What happened to Sam Crook and friend ? Oh, they 
 were duly tried at the Assizes, and got fourteen years 
 apiece, and serve 'em right. 
 
 Inspector Clutchit was the least pleased of anybody, 
 or pretended to be. He came up to me after the trial, 
 and says to me, says he : ' Well, John Strong, I do 
 think you might have given an old friend like me " the 
 office." ' But I preferred to ' keep the *' good thing " in 
 the family,' I told him. 
 
CAUGHT IN THE TOILS 
 
 THE BUTLER'S STORY 
 
 ' Why, it's actually Mr. Jubber V exclaimed our chair- 
 man one night, shading his eyes with his hand and 
 peering through the wreaths of tobacco-smoke that 
 hung round him at a new-comer just entering the room 
 — ' it's actually Mr. Jubber ! Why, youVe quite a 
 stranger ! Come and sit down here, Mr. J., and tell us 
 all about yourself.' 
 
 Thus invited, the personage who had just entered the 
 room, a rosy-faced, well-fed-looking man of some eight- 
 and-forty, or perhaps fifty, years of age, made his way 
 slowly up the room, exchanging greetings as he went 
 (he was evidently well known and popular), and finally 
 brought himself to an anchor on the chairman's left- 
 hand, recognising me with a polite bow as he sat down, 
 a scarcely perceptible elevation of his eyebrows, as 
 much as saying, ' Hallo ! how comes it that you are 
 here ?'' 
 
 ' Hope I see you well, sir,' he said, leaning across the 
 chairman, whose massive person separated us. 
 
 ' My principal object in coming here to-night, sir,' 
 
 10—2 
 
148 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 he went on, lowering his voice to a respectful whisper, 
 ' was to bring you a note from the ladies, sir. Not 
 being aware you were in the club-room, sir, I sent it 
 up to your apartments.** 
 
 ' Oh, thank you,' replied I ; ' does it require an 
 answer, do you know ? As, if so, Fll send for it at once."* 
 
 * I am under the impression, sir,' said Mr. Jubber, 
 ' that it is an invitation to dinner, sir. The fact is, sir, 
 the ladies were only aware yesterday that you were 
 here, and, fearing you might be dull, sir ' (a sly twinkle 
 appeared at this point in Mr. Jubber's blue eyes), ' they 
 were no doubt anxious to ask you to The Grange. That 
 is my impression, sir.' 
 
 ' Very good of them, I am sure, Mr. Jubber,' exclaimed 
 I ; ' and how are the ladies — well, I hope i^' 
 
 ' Fairly well, sir, thank you. Miss Jane is never very 
 robust in the winter, you know, sir, but Miss Matilda is 
 remarkably well, sir, I'm happy to say. Indeed, I don't 
 remember, sir. Miss Matilda ever having been better in 
 her life than she is just now, sir.' 
 
 The urbane Mr. Jubber was butler and confidential 
 adviser to two old maiden ladies named Crawley, who 
 lived at a pretty house called The Grange, and a most 
 excellent and trustworthy servant he was. The two 
 old ladies, indeed, called him ' The Treasure,' and this 
 being known to everybody about, The Treasure was the 
 name familiarly adopted by everybody when speaking 
 of him. 
 
 ' How is The Treasure ?'' was the first question always 
 asked when visitors called on the Misses Crawley at 
 The Grange. I should say, on the whole, that no 
 butler in the United Kingdom had an easier berth of 
 
CAUGHT IN THE TOILS 149 
 
 it than Mr. Jubber. Good wages, good living, scarcely 
 anything to do and plenty of time to do it in — what 
 more could a butler want ? 
 
 There being some five hundred acres of shooting, 
 including some covert, along with the house, one of 
 Mr. Jubber's occupations — I should say his principal 
 one — was keeping the house well supplied with game ; 
 and as he was an excellent shot, and very keen, this 
 part of the play, needless to observe, suited him down 
 to the ground, as the saying is. In short, Mr. Jubber 
 had an uncommonly good berth of it, a fact that no 
 one was more ready to acknowledge than himself. 
 Needless to say, the two old ladies looked upon him as 
 a pearl beyond price. Nor is it to be wondered at, for 
 I don't know what in the world they would have done 
 without him. 
 
 This, then, is a slight sketch of the man who, being 
 called upon by the unanimous desire of the Club to 
 either sing them a song or tell a story, chooses the 
 latter alternative, and relates the following personal 
 experience : 
 
 When I took in the five o'clock tea-things one 
 evening (it was the footman's place, strictly speaking, 
 to do so, but knowing that the two old ladies, my 
 mistresses at The Grange, preferred me, as it gave them 
 an excuse for a chat, I always made a point of obliging 
 them), one of them — I think it was Miss Matilda, but 
 I won't be sure — addressing me, said : 
 
 ' Well, Jubber, and what do you think of the new 
 housemaid ? Tell us candidly now, do you think she 
 will suit ?' 
 
150 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 ' I think, ma'am,"' I replied, ' she is a remarkably good- 
 looking young woman. You see, ma'am, she only came 
 yesterday, so it is impossible for me to tell exactly. I 
 can only say she seems a respectable girl enough, and 
 certainly very clean and tidy, ma'am.' 
 
 ' Yes, she is very presentable, certainly,' chimed in 
 Miss Jane ; ' but you know, Jubber, we want something 
 more than good looks. You see, Jubber, Ann Preedy 
 had been here so many years, and my sister and I were 
 so used to her ways, that we cannot get used to a new 
 maid very quickly. Still, you understand, we have such 
 very great faith in your opinion upon all domestic 
 affairs, Jubber, that if you expressed yourself satisfied 
 with Mary Blake we should feel quite easy in our minds. 
 You see, the servants have all lived so long with us, and 
 we have such absolute trust in every one of them, that 
 we leave our money and jewellery about with perfect 
 confidence ; but as you are aware, Jubber, we read such 
 dreadful stories nowadays in the newspapers of rob- 
 beries by maidservants — especially pretty ones — that 
 it naturally makes one suspicious at first. True, we 
 had an excellent character with the girl from her last 
 place, but even that is not always reliable, you know, and 
 we should, therefore, like your private opinion, Jubber.' 
 
 'As you say,' went on good-natured Miss Matilda, 
 ' the poor girl — who, I dare say, is a very good 
 girl if one only knew — has been here such a short time 
 that it would be unfair — most unfair — to judge her too 
 hastily, so we will ask you, Jubber, to keep your eye 
 on her, and to report to us on her general conduct, and 
 so on, in, say, a week's time from now.' 
 
 Well, I did keep my eye on the young woman, 
 
CAUGHT IN THE TOILS 151 
 
 gentlemen, and a week of her acquaintance only con- 
 firmed the original impression upon my mind — namely, 
 that she was as good-looking a girl as one would wish 
 to see — auburn hair, slightly inclined to red ; liquid 
 blue eyes ; pearly teeth ; a trim, compact little figure ; 
 and such a foot and ankle ! (I wouldn't give a thank- 
 you for the prettiest woman in England, gentlemen, if 
 she hadn't neat feet and ankles.) All these Mary Blake 
 possessed. She was wonderfully quick, and neat too, in 
 her house work. The first morning after she came I 
 superintended in person her dusting of the old china in 
 the drawing-room. Instead of flopping and whisking 
 her duster about, like nine housemaids out of ten would 
 have, upsetting knick-knacks and chipping bits off 
 them, if not worse, Mary treated each individual article 
 as gently and delicately as if it belonged to herself. I 
 could not have done it better myself. Well, it's a 
 remarkable circumstance, gentlemen, but do you know 
 that every blessed morning after that did I find myself 
 as regularly as clockwork drawn — no doubt by one of 
 those mysterious impulses that there is no accounting 
 for at times — towards the drawing-room, where Mary 
 Blake was busy dusting the ornaments. 
 
 ' Are you fond of china ?'' said I one morning, as I 
 watched the new housemaid tenderly taking up a little 
 Dresden shepherdess in her hand and gazing at it 
 admiringly ere she replaced it on the mantelpiece. 
 
 ' Oh yes !' she exclaimed. ' I can assure you, Mr. 
 Jubber, that dusting this room of a morning is a labour 
 of love to me ; it is truly. My late mistress gave me 
 a book all about old china, and I — I know something 
 about it, sir. Next to listening to music I think I like 
 
152 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 to look at beautiful china. And oh, Mr. Jubber, how 
 lovely you do perform on the violin ! When you was 
 playing last night in your room I sat and listened, and 
 it was a treat to a poor girl. Yes, and when you 
 struck up, " Home, Sweet Home '' — oh, Mr. Jubber, 
 you don't know how I felt. As you played, a mist came 
 over my eyes, and I seemed once more to see the little 
 cottage in the country where I was brought up — such a 
 pretty cottage it was, with its little front garden full of 
 bright hollyhocks and old-fashioned flowers ! Yes ; 
 there was my poor old mother sitting knitting as usual 
 by the fireside, with her big silver-clasped Bible open on 
 the table by her. Oh, Mr. Jubber, when I thought of 
 it all I could not help crying. I — I c-c-c-cannot help it 
 now. Oh, Mr. J-J-Jubber, f-f-forgive me, wo-o-n't 
 you ? I c-c-can't help it, you are so k-k-kind to me.' 
 
 And with that, blessed if she didn't throw herself into 
 my arms, sobbing as if her heart would break. Well, 
 gentlemen, when a young and lovely woman in distress 
 twines her arms round the neck of a susceptible man, 
 and goes on as Mary Blake did to me that morning, I 
 imagine there is only one thing that man could do under 
 the circumstances, and I did it, gentlemen. I, in short, 
 kissed her. 
 
 Ah, it's all very well for you to smile, but I don't 
 believe there's a man in this room but what would have 
 done the same under similar circumstances. 
 
 Just fancy, any of you, a pair of liquid blue eyes with 
 a tear in each of 'em looking appealingly straight at 
 you, and a pretty mouth, the parted lips showing the 
 white teeth beyond, only half an inch or so off yours, 
 and ask yourselves how you would have acted. 
 
CAUGHT IN THE TOILS 153 
 
 * rd ha' kissed her — ay, lad, and kissed her again after 
 that, dang me if I wouldn't !' exclaimed Parmer Burley, 
 with a hearty bang of his great fist on the table, thereby 
 eliciting a roar of laughter and applause from the whole 
 room. 
 
 Joking apart though, gentlemen, it was an exceed- 
 ingly awkward predicament for me to be in, and I don't 
 really know how I should have got out of it without 
 compromising myself had not the young woman herself 
 helped me out of the dilemma. 
 
 ' Oh, Mr. Jubber,' says she, holding me tight round 
 the neck and looking up into my face, her innocent blue 
 eyes still brimming over — 'oh, Mr. Jubber, do say 
 you'll be a b-b-brother to me ; do, d-o-o-o !' 
 
 ' Why, of course I will, my dear,' I replied, delighted 
 at getting out of my dilemma so easily. ' Of course I 
 will.' I was about to add, ' And there's my hand upon 
 it,' but on second consideration I thought that where a 
 woman was concerned the action would be out of place. 
 So, gentlemen, I — I (ahem !) Mssed her again. 
 
 A shout of laughter from all present, and ' 0' coorse 
 you did ! Dang it ! Whoy not ?' from Farmer Burley. 
 
 Curiously enough, that very morning made up the 
 week that my mistress had given me in which I was to 
 form an estimate, as best I could, of the character of 
 Mary Blake, and as I took in the breakfast things Miss 
 Matilda reminded me of the fact. 
 
 ' I am happy to say, ma'am,' I answered, ' that I con- 
 sider Mary Blake perfect in every possible way. She is 
 modest and unassuming in her manner, and I am bound 
 to say that as a housemaid I never yet saw her equal. I 
 think, ma'am,' I wound up, * the most fragile china in 
 
154 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 the world would be perfectly safe if she had the hand- 
 ling of it.' 
 
 ' My dear Jane,"* exclaimed Miss Matilda, clapping 
 her hands together in great delight — ' my dear Jane ! 
 there never were, I do believe, such lucky people as we 
 are ! We have actually found another Treasure !' 
 
 Well, gentlemen, the interest I took in Mary Blake's 
 career still continued, and I found myself every morning 
 superintending the dusting operations in the drawing- 
 room. I looked upon it, in fact, as part of the day's 
 work, and not an unpleasant portion of it either, not 
 by any means. 
 
 The roguish blue eyes (no longer with tears in 'em) 
 would still look into mine in the same pleading, trustful 
 way ; the brother and sisterly kiss would still pass 
 between us. 
 
 This sort of thing was all very well, but I began to 
 ask myself how would it all end. I found that Mary 
 Blake was perpetually cropping up in my mind when I 
 should have been thinking of other things. Actually 
 one day, when out shooting for the house, a woodcock 
 got up in front of me, and, putting up my gun, I found, 
 on pulling the trigger, that it wouldn't go off. No, for 
 the very good reason why, because there were no cart- 
 ridges in it. Mary Blake again. Oh, I was so wild, 
 for if there is one bird I like to shoot more than another 
 it is a woodcock, and they are exceptionally scarce in 
 our part of the world. The cock, too, had gone clean 
 off our ground, and I should probably never see him 
 again. ' John Jubber ! John Jubber !' I said to myself, 
 ' this will not do, my boy. You who have made a vow 
 of perpetual celibacy to go falling in love like this — for 
 
CAUGHT IN THE TOILS 155 
 
 that's what it is, there's no mistake about it — you ought 
 to be ashamed of yourself.' 
 
 The next morning, though it was very much against 
 the grain to do so, I avoided the drawing-room at 
 dusting time. Result : Mary Blake only had one help- 
 ing of roast-beef at dinner-time, and refused the 
 pudding (roly-poly with raspberry jam) altogether. 
 Her beer seemed to choke her, and there was a re- 
 proachful look in the blue eyes that looked for a 
 moment into mine when I went round and clapped 
 her on the back that made me feel a perfect 
 brute. 
 
 I determined, though, to be firm, and act the part of 
 the Roman father, no matter what my feelings ; and 
 with that view I carefully avoided my fair enslaver all 
 the rest of that day, and the next morning determined, 
 as before, to keep clear of the drawing-room. Alas 
 for my resolution ! 
 
 Happening to pass the door — quite by accident, of 
 course — I heard a sound as of someone choking within. 
 * Mary ill, perhaps,' I thought to myself, and at once 
 opened the door. 
 
 Yes, there she was, sitting on the sofa with her head 
 buried in the cushions, sobbing as if her heart would 
 break. This was more than I could stand, and for- 
 getting all about the Roman father, I rushed up to her 
 and raised her from her recumbent position. 
 
 ' What is the matter, Mary, my dear ?"" I exclaimed, 
 drying her eyes with her own duster as I spoke. 
 
 ' Oh, go away, go-o aw-a-a-y !' she sobbed. 
 
 ' No, no ; tell me what is the matter. What are you 
 crying for .f*' said I. 
 
156 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 'Oh, Mister Jubber, I 1-o-o-ve you so-o, and you're 
 s-s-so cruel !' she replied, sobbing away louder than ever. 
 
 Well, here was a pretty go. Of course I made a 
 fool of myself and swore I loved her in return, and all 
 the rest of it, if only to keep her quiet. 
 
 ' And you will be k-k-ind to me, and show me all the 
 p-p-plate, as you promised ?' said she. 
 
 ' Oh yes, of course I will, Mary, my dear,' I replied, 
 sealing the promise with a kiss. ' And now be off to 
 your room and dry your eyes before any of the other 
 servants see you, and Fll finish your dusting for you. 
 Cut away, there's a good girl,' said L ' We shall have 
 the ladies down directly, and it will never do for them 
 to catch sight of you in that state.' 
 
 So, smiling through her tears, she tripped off, kissing 
 her hand to me as she left the room. 
 
 Well, I dusted away at the china ornaments, thinking 
 all the while what a fool I had made of myself, and 
 having just put the finishing touch to an old piece of 
 Crown Derby, w^as about to leave the room, when, 
 happening to cast my eye towards the sofa on which I 
 had found Mary reclining, I caught sight of a some- 
 what crumpled piece of paper. On inspection I found 
 it was a letter, and as it commenced, ' Dear Poll,' I 
 guessed at once who it belonged to. So I pocketed it, 
 meaning to hand it to Mary when I next saw her alone. 
 Now, I am not an inquisitive man as a rule, gentlemen, 
 but before I got to my pantry I could no more resist 
 reading that letter than a moth could avoid going at a 
 candle. As it lay in my pocket it seemed to keep 
 saying : ' Read me ! Read me ! Why don't you Read 
 me ? Mary won't know, and what if she does ?' 
 
 i 
 
CAUGHT IN THE TOILS 157 
 
 I gave way at last, out came the letter, and sitting 
 down in my easy-chair, I read it without more ado. 
 
 The making myself acquainted with the contents of 
 that letter, gentlemen, was just about the best day's 
 work I ever did in my life. 
 
 Oh, my word, it was a staggerer ! 
 
 This is what it said : 
 
 ' Dear Poll, 
 
 ' Hasn't that there old Spooney let you have a 
 sight of the plate yet ? Get to see it immediate, as 
 Bill and me want to do the crack next week, and 
 Oliver's (the w riter alluded, gentlemen, to the moon) not 
 on the job then. If you can get hold of the old girl's 
 diamonds, you can do 'em up ready for us at the same 
 time. Further perticklers on hearing from you. 
 ' The kids is well, so am I, and I remain, 
 
 ' Yours affectionate, 
 
 ' Joseph Maggs. 
 
 ' P.S. — Is there a Barker on the premises .f^' 
 
 Well, gentlemen, it didn't want much acumen on my 
 part to understand this precious epistle, as you may 
 guess. 
 
 It was as plain as day that the party who wrote it 
 meant carrying off my mistress's plate, and that the 
 newly-found Treasure (?), Mary Blake, was in with the 
 thieves. 
 
 The next thing to be done, thinks I to myself, is to 
 see whether ' old Spooney ' can't get the best of Mr. 
 Joseph Maggs. 
 
 Yes, my fine fellow ; I have a sort of idea, do you know, 
 
158 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 that it is to be done, if I go to work properly. I mean 
 to try, at all events. 
 
 AVith that object in view, after making a copy of the 
 letter, my first act was to go and replace it exactly 
 where I found it. And it w^as lucky I did, as it hap- 
 pened, for just as I came out Miss Mary Blake bounced 
 in. She came to look for her duster, she said, and it 
 was quite refreshing to note the dash she made for the 
 letter the moment she saw it. Of course I pretended 
 not to notice that part of the performance. 
 
 Apparently much relieved in her mind, she now 
 turned her attention to me. ' Is my dear old Johnny — 
 you are my Johnny now, aren't you ? — going to show 
 me his pretty plate, as he promised to-day ?' said the 
 artful little devil, looking up into my face with those 
 great blue innocent-looking eyes of hers, and putting up 
 her face for a kiss, which I hadn't the faintest objection 
 to giving. 
 
 ' Of course I will, my dear,' I replied. ' Come to 
 my pantry about half-past eleven, and Fll show you 
 the lot.' 
 
 ' Dear old thing !' exclaimed she, ' I'll come, never 
 fear.' And giving my cheek a playful slap, she tripped 
 off to her household duties. 
 
 At the time appointed she duly made her appearance 
 in the pantry, when out came the plate for her edifica- 
 tion. There was a tremendous lot of it, and I showed 
 her every bit of it. And what an interest this little 
 treasure of a housemaid took in it ! How many ounces 
 did I think it weighed, and what was it worth, and 
 where was it kept ? Did I always lock the chest of a 
 night ? Wasn't I afraid of burglars ? Oh ! she was. 
 
CAUGHT IN THE TOILS 159 
 
 If they ever came to a house where she was, she was 
 sure she should die of fright. And then the conversation 
 turned on jewellery — the last lady she lived with had such 
 a quantity. Had Miss Matilda and Miss Jane much 
 besides what they usually wore ? 
 
 Well, I told her all she wanted to know, and a bit 
 more too ; and then she tripped off, chuckling, no doubt, 
 the hussy, at having (as she thought) got to the windward 
 of old Spooney. 
 
 Directly after luncheon, finding that several things 
 were wanted for the house in town here — books from 
 the circulating library for Miss Jane, and so forth 
 — I volunteered to walk in and see about them 
 myself. 
 
 ' Oh, Mary Blake, Mary Blake !' said I to myself as, 
 turning round when I had got a short distance from 
 the house, I spied her kissing her hand to me from an 
 upper window, ' if you only knew what my real errand 
 was you'd tremble in those neat little shoes of yours, I 
 know." 
 
 Now, Mr. Benjamin Bagshaw, who was superintendent 
 of the police at that time (you recollect old Ben, gentle- 
 men) was a particular friend of mine. I seldom, indeed, 
 came into the town but what I paid him a visit — pVaps 
 brought him a hare or maybe a brace of birds, for he 
 was very partial to game — and I knew that his dinner- 
 hour was two o'clock, so thinks I to myself, it's now just 
 three, and if I go straight to his house I shall just catch 
 friend Ben as he's smoking his after-dinner pipe, and 
 then we can have a little private talk about this matter. 
 So straight to Ben's house I went, and sure enough 
 found him in as I thought. He had finished his pipe, 
 
160 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 indeed, and was taking forty winks with his bandana 
 over his head. 
 
 ' John, my boy,' said Ben, when I had told him my 
 story, and showed him the copy of the letter to Mary 
 Blake, ' give us your flipper ' (Ben was always a bit 
 slangy when excited). ' Since I nailed that covey for 
 the Boxham Wood murder, this is the biggest job I've 
 been in since Fve belonged to the force, and I think 
 that if we only use proper discretion, and hold our 
 tongues, we shall make such a haul as will astonish 'em 
 at Scotland Yard. Now, look ye here, John,' says he : 
 ' in the first place, all letters to and fro between Mary 
 Blake, housemaid, and Joseph Maggs, burglar, must be 
 intercepted. That will be, of course, my business. 
 
 ' In the second place, you must go home and make 
 love to blue-eyed Mary — oh, the dear, sweet little 
 innocent !' laughed Ben — * fiercer than ever.' 
 
 ' Thirdly and lastly, you must go out a-shootin' every 
 blessed afternoon, and meet me regular at four o'clock 
 in the little spinney belonging to your good lady, as 
 runs along the Wallington Road, so that we can keep 
 each other well posted up with the latest intelligence 
 from the seat of war. 
 
 ' And now, John,' said Ben, 'just one more glass, and 
 then off you go, and do what you've got to do in the 
 town, and I'll take a walk to the post-office and arrange 
 everything there.' 
 
 Needless to observe, gentlemen, I did exactly what 
 Ben told me, executed my commission for Miss Jane, 
 and walked quietly home as if nothing had happened. 
 Quietly did I say ? No, hardly that, for I was in a per- 
 fect fever of excitement, I give you my word. I hadn't 
 
CAUGHT IN THE TOILS 161 
 
 been at home five minutes before Mary came running 
 into my pantry to ask for the loan of a postage-stamp. 
 As I gave it to her, and a kiss at the same time under 
 cover of the cupboard-door, I felt, I do assure you, 
 gentlemen, the most double-faced wretch that ever 
 existed. 
 
 Well, acting up to Inspector Bagshaw's instructions, 
 off' I went shooting every afternoon, and met him 
 according to appointment in the spinney beside the 
 road, where we duly compared notes on ' coming 
 events/ What the pair of us were anxiously waiting 
 for was the letter from Joe Maggs to Mary Blake, say- 
 ing when the plant was to come off* : and at last, on the 
 eighth day, Ben, with the very broadest grin you ever 
 saw on a human countenance (he had got a rare lot of 
 grinders, had old Ben — more like a horse's than any- 
 thing else — and he showed 'em all, every one, on that 
 occasion), announced that it had arrived that very day. 
 * Which Fve got it in my pocket,' says he. * We'll sit 
 down in the ditch and I'll show it you, John. I've read 
 it over,' says he, ' ever so many times already, and I do 
 assure you I relish it each time more and more. Bless 
 you,' says Ben, bursting with laughter, ' I wouldn't 
 swap Joe Maggs's letter for a whole set of Dickens's 
 novels, bound in morocker, blowed if I would ! And 
 you know how partial I am to Dickens.' 
 
 Accordingly, we sat down in the ditch and read Joe 
 Maggs's precious epistle. 
 
 He thanked his dear Polly for the plan of the house 
 and the particulars of the swag, and went on to say 
 that he and his pal would be waiting outside the house 
 at two o'clock in the morning on the Thursday. She 
 
 11 
 
162 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 was to undo the bolts of the front-door so that they 
 could slip in, and they would then go straight to ' Old 
 Spooney's' room, gag and bind him if necessary, and 
 walk off with the plate. Finally, she was to give some 
 of ' she knew what "* to the dog. 
 
 ' Ah, that bit about the dog reminds me,' said Ben ; 
 'you'd better get the noble animal away somewhere, 
 John, for the night, or hell spoil sport, as many a one 
 has done before. You can manage that, no doubt.' 
 
 We then settled all our plans. When everybody 
 had gone to bed, I was to let the inspector and two of 
 his men, all in plain clothes, into the house, and secrete 
 them on the drawing-room landing. My next move 
 was to go to the hall door and undo the bolt, so that 
 any one could walk in. Finally, I was to go to bed 
 and await results. Directly I gave out signals of 
 distress the inspector and his two subordinates would 
 rush to the rescue. 
 
 When I kissed ' Blue Eyes ' — as Mr. Bagshaw in his 
 facetiousness called her — behind the pantry door that 
 evening, I felt more like Judas than ever. The only 
 consolation I had was that she was as false as I was. 
 Well, gentlemen, Thursday night arrived. At half- 
 past ten to a minute Miss Matilda and Miss Jane took 
 themselves off to bed, and, having seen the last of the 
 servants off (I thought that blessed cook never would 
 go), I went softly to the hall door, whistled a bar or 
 two of ' Pop goes the Weasel,' and let Inspector 
 Bagshaw and his two men into the house, old Ben, as 
 he entered, half drawing a pair of handcuffs from his 
 pocket and grinning significantly. Having stowed 
 them away in the drawing-room, I went off to my own 
 
CAUGHT IN THE TOILS 163 
 
 room in the basement in order to prepare for my 
 expected guests. 
 
 Now, gentlemen, though I was not in the least 
 jealous of my old friend the inspector, yet I did not see 
 at all why I should not contribute my mite, as I might 
 say (the pun is unintentional, I assure you) towards the 
 capture, if only to show I had as much intelligence 
 about me as other people. Therefore, before I went to 
 bed (which I did with my clothes on, underneath my 
 night-gown) I was careless enough to leave a decanter 
 three parts full of port wine on the table. Was that 
 port wine doctored, do you think, gentlemen, expressly 
 for the burglarious market ? ^Vell, I shouldn't wonder, 
 do you know, if it was. Singular, wasn't it ? At half- 
 past one I went to bed, and laughed beneath the clothes 
 until I thought I should have choked. Shortly after 
 two I fancied I heard a noise at the hall door, and 
 I covered my head well over with the bed-clothes, and 
 set up the most awful snoring you ever heard. Lord, 
 how I did snore ! I kept my ears open, though, all the 
 time. I heard them open the plate-chest. (I had 
 foolishly — ha ! ha ! ha ! — left it open.) I heard 'em 
 shift its contents into a bag or bags, and then — and 
 then, gentlemen — and I give you my word, I almost 
 burst out laughing — I heard 'em pegging away at the 
 port wine. 
 
 ' Blimy ! the cove might ha' ben genteel enough to 
 ha' left us out a wine-glass ; what do you think. Bill ? 
 I heard Mr. Maggs say, as he filled one of the tumblers, 
 which I had purposely left on the table so as to be 
 handy. ' 'Ere's to 'is jolly good health, though, any- 
 how !' 
 
 11—2 
 
164 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 Now 1 began to listen, if you like, and I had not 
 long to wait for what I expected. 
 
 ' Joe,' I heard the other man say, ' I feel coming over 
 precious queer about the chump — quite drowsy like."* 
 
 * Oh, you'll be all right directly you gets into the 
 fresh hair^ growled Joe in reply. ' Come, fill up once 
 more, and then we'll mizzle.' 
 
 A loud snore was the response. 
 
 Again I listened, and this time I could hear the 
 beating of my own heart, as the song says. I cautiously 
 took a peep over the bed-clothes at the burglars. They 
 WERE BOTH FAST ASLEEP. Out of bed I jumped like a 
 harlequin, fished out some strong cord I had purchased 
 expressly for the occasion, and bound the legs and arms 
 of the insensible Joe Maggs and his friend, until they 
 looked for all the world just like a pair of trussed 
 fowls (of the gaol-bird breed, eh, gentlemen ?). Next I 
 lit my lamp, and every candle I could lay my hands 
 upon, and finally I blew my whistle for help. 
 
 In rushed Inspector Bagshaw and his two men, and 
 stopped paralyzed with wonder at the sight before him- 
 The plate all packed ; the two burglars neatly secured. 
 Ben for once was fairly puzzled. 
 
 ' Why, how the — where the — what's the meaning of 
 it all ?' he stammered, looking from me to the men and 
 the men to me. 
 
 I struck an attitude, and, pointing to Joe Maggs and 
 his friend, observed quietly, after the manner of a con- 
 jurer at the conclusion of a difficult feat of sleight of 
 hand, ' That's how it's done.' 
 
A WOMAN'S REVENGE 
 
 THE PAD GROOM'S STORY 
 
 ' It always beats me, Mr. Bloss,"' observed Skinner, the 
 saddler in the High Street, one evening, addressing 
 a smart, dapper- looking personage, who could not 
 honestly be mistaken for anything but what he was — 
 a swell stud-groom — ' it always beats me how the 
 dickens it is that your lady has never married. With 
 sich a face, and sich a figure, not to mention her seat on 
 'ossback and her 'ands, it certainly is a marvel that 
 nobody's wanted to pop her into double harness long 
 before this. The way she led the field the other day 
 in that good thing my lord's 'ounds 'ad from Stopping- 
 ton Woods did my 'art good to see, that it did. I think 
 I see her now a-comin' at the Sousham brook fifty miles 
 an hour, and yet with her 'oss well in hand all the time. 
 It was a rare treat, that's what it was, and nothing 
 but it.' 
 
 ' It ain't been for want of askin', Mr. Skinner, you 
 may depend,' replied the other. 'Bless ye, she's 'ad 
 hofFers by the score before now, and not one of 'em with 
 a ghost of a chance if they only knew. No, no. Single 
 she is, and single she's likely to remain, you may be 
 
166 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 sure. There was never but one in the running, and 
 he's been underground, poor feller, this ten years. It 
 was a sad story — very sad," said Mr. Bloss, shaking his 
 head in a melancholy manner the while he took a solemn 
 gulp at his gin-and-water. 
 
 ' Ah, I thought probably there was a reason," replied 
 the saddler ; ' most of us 'ave a skelinton in the cupboard, 
 I expect, if we only knew. PVaps,'' added he, looking 
 slyly round at the company, ' you wouldn't mind relatin' 
 the circumstance to us, Mr. Bloss, if not of too private 
 a nature.' 
 
 ' Hear, hear !' pronounced the company ; ' and very 
 properly put, Mr. Skinner, sir,' from Droner the vet. 
 
 ' Fm quite agreeable, Fm sure, gentlemen,' said the 
 swell groom politely, and, suiting his action to the word, 
 he at once plunged into the following story : 
 
 It is just thirteen years ago, gentlemen, come next 
 July, that I took service with Miss Coverly — or, rather, 
 I should say with Squire Coverly, her father — my duties 
 being to superintend her horses only, and attend her in 
 her rides and pilot her when she went hunting, the 
 Squire, owing to his increasing years, having given up 
 riding to hounds, though he had the reputation of 
 having been as hard as any of 'em in his day. Pilot 
 her, did I say ? I should like to see the man who could 
 Jhllow her, let alone pilot her, or come a-nigh if it 
 comes to that ; he'd be a something out of the common 
 way, I fancy. I know it was as much as I could do, 
 light weight as I was (I'm not any heavier now, if it 
 comes to that, Mr. Bloss remarked parenthetically, as he 
 cast an endearing glance at his tight-trousered legs, 
 which were decidedly of the ' broomstick ' order), to live 
 
A WOMAN'S REVENGE 167 
 
 with her ; and as for piloting her, well, I should have 
 been precious sorry to try, that's all. I fancy I can ride 
 a bit, too. I did ought to, anyhow ; for I began life as 
 a lad in the racing-stables at Newmarket, and after that 
 rode second 'oss to Sir Gilbert Northcote in Leicester- 
 shire for five years before I got to be his stud-groom, 
 only leaving him at his death, when I went to Squire 
 Coverly, as I have just told you. 
 
 Fairfield Hall, where the Squire and his daughter 
 lived all by themselves, was situated in the heart of one 
 of the best hunting counties in England. Nearly all 
 grass it was, and the fences as big as the fields, which 
 was saying a good deal, I can tell you. Three packs 
 of hounds were within reach, so that we had no diffi- 
 culty in hunting six days a week. Not that there 
 would have been much difficulty in any case, for, sooner 
 than not hunt. Miss Coverly would have got up in the 
 middle of the night, I verily believe. Distance was no 
 object with her, I can tell you, nor weather either. 
 Nothing but the hardest of frosts stopped us^ I do 
 assure you. Well, I really don t think I ever was so 
 happy in my life before. I might almost say I lived 
 the life of a gentleman. Fond of hunting, fonder still 
 of riding over a country, mounted on horses with quality 
 enough about 'em for a king to ride, the best of good 
 living, and, lastly, a mistress who anyone, I don't care 
 who, would have been proud to serve ; what more could 
 a man want ? As I have said, I shall have lived in her 
 service now (and I believe I have given every satisfac- 
 tion) going on for thirteen years, and I wish for nothing 
 better than to end my days in it. I'm not the only one 
 as says that, either. I don't believe there's a dependent 
 
168 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 belonging to her of any sort who wouldn't die for her 
 willingly to-morrow, that I don't. And the poor people 
 all round about her own neighbourhood just the same. 
 Though she has let the Hall ever since the sad event 
 I'm a-going to tell you about happened, she never forgets 
 the old people. They have the coals and the blankets 
 and the beef every Christmas just the same as if she 
 was there, and if there's any particular case of distress 
 in the village, the parson has only got to write and it is 
 relieved at once. 
 
 ' Do your " furriners " go on like that ?' demanded 
 Mr. Bloss, with a snort of defiance. ' Not they ! and if 
 anybody was to tell me as they did I shouldn't believe 
 him, so it's all the same.' 
 
 Well, gentlemen, you all of you know her by sight, 
 so I needn't enlarge about her looks. Anyhow, I fancy 
 you will all agree that so far as beauty goes, she is very 
 hard to beat. I only wish you could have seen her 
 thirteen years ago, and I think you would have said a 
 more lovely young lady you never clapped eyes on. 
 
 The beauty is there still — where, I should like to ask, 
 would you match those violet eyes of hers, and that 
 chestnut hair ? But the happy expression she used to 
 wear so perpetual is gone — that's where it is — gone, 
 never to return, I very much fear. I don't think I ever 
 saw in Leicestershire, or anywhere else, so many hard 
 riding ladies as there were in our part of the world, but 
 not one of 'em, bless ye, could come nigh us, much less 
 ' cut us down and 'ang us up to dry,' as the saying is. I 
 rather think, indeed, that it was an understood thing 
 among the ladies of the hunt that they recognised our 
 superiority. And she was so sweet with it all that it 
 
A WOMAN^S REVENGE 169 
 
 was impossible for anyone to be jealous. I think they 
 were all too fond of her for that. There was one 
 exception, though, and that was Miss Lyle, of Crow- 
 berry Park — a woman of thirty, I should say, and a 
 great heiress. I forget how much she came into at 
 her father's death, but it was a rare sum of money. 
 She wasn't bad-looking, was Miss Lyle — in fact, some 
 people would call her handsome — but she always carried 
 a cross, discontented look on her face, and IVe seen 
 those black eyebrows of hers contract when anything 
 went wrong out hunting, such as being crossed at a 
 fence, or her horse, perhaps, not behaving himself as he 
 ought, in a manner that boded ill for somebody. She 
 was a splendid horsewoman, and as jealous of us, bless 
 you, as possible. Fve seen her grind her teeth and turn 
 white with passion when, as was frequently the case, we 
 got the brush given to us. I shall never, if I live to be 
 as old as Methusalem, forget a scene at the end of a run 
 with the Duke of Downshire's hounds one day soon after 
 I went into those parts. We had had a very fast thing 
 from Blessington Gorse — five and forty minutes as hard 
 as ever we could go, winding up with a kill in the open. 
 We had gone as usual owdacious, and close to our skirts 
 all the way was Miss Lyle riding, as jealous as blazes ! 
 She did all she knew to get on terms with us, but she 
 never quite managed it, though she was on her best 
 horse, I believe. She had to follow us throughout. You 
 see, where her fault lay was the want of knowledge of 
 pace and lack of judgment in taking her fences, and 
 those were the very two points where we excelled so. I 
 often used to say to myself, as I watched my young lady 
 in a run, sailing away, apparently in an easy canter, but 
 
170 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 in reality going at a thundering pace that few could 
 keep up with, ' What a splendid steeplechase rider you'd 
 have made, miss, if you'd been born a man !' 
 
 Well, Tom Tootler, the huntsman, off with the brush, 
 and the Duke comes up with it in his hand to give it 
 to my mistress, who richly deserved it. But instead of 
 taking it, what does she do but leans over and whispers 
 something in His Grace's ear. He smiles and bows, for, 
 like everybody else with whom she comes into contact, 
 her word was law with him, and goes off with the 
 brush to Miss Lyle, who was sitting on her chestnut 
 'oss quite handy, and off with his hat, made her the 
 politest of bows, and, saying something of a flowery 
 nature — the Duke was as soft with his tongue to the 
 ladies as he was rough with the men — my ! he could 
 cuss and swear, if you like ! — presented her with the 
 brush. And what do you think she did ? Instead of 
 taking it as a compliment, she flushed up crimson with 
 anger, her black eyes sparkled again, and her eyebrows 
 contracted until they nearly met, whilst she blurted out 
 before all of "*em, her voice quite hoarse : ' It's very kind 
 of you, Duke, but I don't care about other people's 
 leavings.' And with that, as if seized with a sudden fit 
 of rage, she snatched the fox's brush out of His Grace's 
 'and, threw it on the ground at his feet, and, turning her 
 horse sharp round, rode off the field at a gallop. The 
 Duke stared, as well he might, for a second, and then, 
 picking up the brush, burst into a roar of laughter. 
 * Well,' says he, * if nobody '11 have it, dashed if I don't 
 keep it for myself;' and so saying, he puts it into his 
 pocket and settled the matter in that way. That's 
 what came, you see, of trying to do a good-natured 
 
A WOMAN'S REVENGE 171 
 
 action, for that's entirely what it was on my lady's part, 
 and she told me as we rode home that day, how sorry she 
 was about it, and how her least intention was to hurt 
 Miss Lyle's feelings. It made her quite unhappy, I 
 could see, and I believe she wrote to Miss Jealous that 
 very night to say so. But it was always my belief that 
 Miss Lyle hated us like poison, and later on I found 
 that I was right. Oh, she was a bad, vindictive woman, 
 that Miss Lyle, and I don't wonder that nobody about 
 her had a good word to say of her. They said she led 
 the poor lady who was her companion up at the Hall 
 the life of a dog, and her maid just the same. I don't 
 wonder the men fought shy of her, in spite of her riches. 
 They were all afraid of her, it's my belief. I did hear 
 that a curate, having fallen in love with either herself or 
 her money — the latter most likely — tried it on, and was 
 seen to leave the Hall five minutes afterwards a good 
 deal quicker than he came, and minus his hat, which 
 came flying out of the drawing-room window after him. 
 As yet, if I mistake not, I have only mentioned the 
 ladies of the hunt, and said nothing about the men — - 
 well, they were a hard-riding lot on the whole — decidedly 
 a hard-riding lot ; and among these two or three out- 
 and-outers, the sort of men who were capable of taking 
 the lead and — what is more important — keeping it, in 
 any company. Of course, there was a best — there always 
 is with every pack of hounds — and our show man was 
 young Mr. Charles Peyton, of Danby Hall. I really 
 think, young as he was, he was the best horseman I ever 
 saw. The family was very poor, and Mr. Charles, not 
 having the money to buy expensive cattle, had to breed 
 his own hunters, and make 'em, too, I can tell you. 
 
172 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 Most of those he rode were bred on the estate, but 
 occasionally he would buy one at a low figure — one 
 probably that no one else could ride — and at the end 
 of the season would sell him for ten times what he gave 
 for him. One little brown 'oss he picked up for thirty 
 sovereigns — I saw him myself jump some rails alongside 
 the railway that no one else would have — and he sold 
 him the same day for three hundred guineas. Oh yes, 
 the whole of the hunt was proud of him, I can tell you ; 
 so much so, that when he rode for the first time in the 
 Hunt Cup, at the annual Spring Meeting, you could 
 scarcely get an offer against him from the bookies at 
 last, the natives made him such a hot favourite ; and he 
 landed their money, too, for them in fine style. After 
 this, he took to riding a good deal in steeplechases, and 
 had a mount in all the principal races the following 
 year, including the Grand National. If the horse he 
 rode at Aintree had been as good as his rider he 
 couldn't have lost; as it was he was nowhere. Lor"* 
 bless yer ! half the county journeyed to Liverpool to 
 see him win — people who had never been there before in 
 their lives — and backed his mount through thick and 
 thin, though it was pretty well known — in fact, Mr. 
 Charles told everyone so himself — that the horse had 
 no chance. 
 
 The very next spring, as luck would have it, the 
 Grand National Hunt, who, as I suppose you are aware, 
 hold their meeting in a different place every year, fixed 
 on our county for their races. 
 
 I wish, gentlemen, from the bottom of my heart, that 
 the Grand National Hunt had never been thought of. 
 Such a sentiment, coming from my lips, may possibly 
 
A WOMAN^S REVENGE 173 
 
 seem to you out of place, but when I think what sad 
 results arose from this particular meeting, my feelings 
 get the better of me. 
 
 Well, of course, it was rather an important event in 
 the country. Everybody filled their houses with com- 
 pany, expressly for the occasion ; several balls were 
 given on the strength of it ; beds were at a premium in 
 the town of Risborough, which was the nearest point to 
 the course — in fact, the whole county went mad over 
 the event. 
 
 There was a first-class entry, not only in number but 
 in quality, some of the horses having a great reputation 
 in private. Oddly enough, the only competitor in the 
 race hailing from our part of the world was one belong- 
 ing to Miss Lyle — a five-year old brown horse called 
 Evening Star, by Astronomer, out of Brilliant. A fine 
 slashing hunter he was, and a magnificent fencer, though 
 rather apt to get his head up and take too much out 
 of himself if he did not get exactly his own way. His 
 mistress not being very popular, the entry was not taken 
 much notice of at first, but when it came out, which it 
 did about a week before the races, that Miss Lyle had 
 requested Mr. Charles Peyton to ride her 'oss as a 
 particular favour to herself, and that he had consented to 
 do so, there was such a rush to get on to his mount 
 that Fm blessed if he wasn^t made second favourite 
 from sheer weight of money and nothing else. Well, 
 the important day amved, and a very fine one it was : 
 the sun shone brightly ; the wind, though in the east, 
 kept down — in fact, it looked as if the clerk of the 
 weather was on his very best behaviour, expressly for 
 the occasion. Oh, there was a crowd, I can tell you ! 
 
174 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 There were fifteen runners in the Grand National Hunt 
 Steeplechase, and a rare good-looking lot of hunters 
 they were. It was put about that there was a real 
 good thing for it in the favourite, a horse called Chas- 
 seur d'Afrique, by Zouave. They called him grey, but 
 he was in reality a black, ticked with a few white hairs, 
 and such a beauty ! as handsome as paint, as fit as a 
 fiddle, and the best gentleman rider in England on his 
 back. You must have a good look in, said I to myself, 
 and I walked off to the stand and put a couple of 
 sovereigns on him at four to one. The money on the 
 favourite, of course, came from the knowing ones, but 
 you should just have seen the natives a-putting of it 
 down on Evening Star ! It'll be bad for some of the 
 small fry outside if he wins, I thought, as I watched the 
 yokels cramming on their silver to back him. ' Ar say, 
 marster,' I heard one of 'em say to an outside betting 
 man, ' what be 'ee a-bettin' against Muster Charles's 
 charnce ?' 
 
 ' Mister Charles ? why, there ain't no sich 'orse, stupid- 
 head !' replied Booky. 
 
 ' Oh, yeas there be ; I means 'im in the blue and 
 yaller, wot's just gone down. Look ! yonder he be,' 
 pointing to Mr. Peyton, who, having cantered down, 
 was now walking his horse back. 
 
 ' You means Evening Star !' exclaimed Booky. ' Why 
 didn't you say so at first ? Five to one to you. How 
 much ? Come, look sharp !' 
 
 'Foive shillings,' replied Mr. Chawbacon, pulling a 
 crown out of his pocket and handing it over with a 
 broad grin, in exchange for a ticket. 
 
 It says a good deal, I think, for the quality of the 
 
A WOMAN'S REVENGE 175 
 
 competitors that, notwithstanding the country was 
 decidedly on the big side, being all natural fences, 
 indeed, with the exception of the brook, hardly any of 
 the horses made a mistake, and a mile from home 
 twelve out of the fifteen were well in the race, and 
 going strong. Coming up to the last hurdle seven 
 horses were so close together that you could have 
 covered them with a sheet, conspicuous in the centre 
 being the bright amber and blue-sleeved jacket worn 
 by Miss Lyle's jockey. So strong and well was her 
 horse going that already a roar went up from the 
 stand of ' Evening Star wins !' As they came nearer 
 the hurdles I noticed how strong and well my fancy, 
 Chasseur d'Afrique, was going — pulling double, in fact. 
 
 * It's either the Chasseur or Evening Star for a 
 hundred !' I exclaimed, as the pair came on, touching 
 one another. 
 
 Up they rose at the hurdles. The Star jumped them 
 splendid, and so would my horse but for the brute who 
 was on the other side of him, who swerved against him, 
 nearly throwing the son of Zouave slap down. As it 
 was, his jockey pulled him together in the most artistic 
 manner I ever saw and set him going again, but he 
 had lost too much ground to recover himself, and 
 Mr. Charles, sending his horse along the moment he 
 saw what had happened, managed to win by a length, 
 amidst such cheering and waving of hats as I never 
 saw equalled on any race-course. Mind ye, the other 
 one would have won but for that unfortunate cannon, 
 for he made up his lost ground in an astonishing 
 way. However, it was the fortune of war, and had 
 to be put up with, like a good many other things. 
 
176 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 Well, having lost my money, I thought Fd saunter 
 about the course and look about me a bit, and in 
 my wanderings I found myself close to Miss Lyle's 
 carriage, just as her successful jockey came up to con- 
 gratulate her on her horse's victory, and to receive hers 
 in return. 
 
 I scarcely knew the woman, do you know, she looked 
 so happy — so different to what she generally did. Fm 
 sure, out hunting sometimes the expression on her face 
 would turn cream sour. Says I to myself as I saw the 
 look she gave Mr. Charles, 'If you're not in love, my 
 lady, for once in your life. I'll never judge by a woman's 
 face again. There is such a thing, miss, as being dis- 
 appointed in love : mind you ain't, that's all ; for I 
 rayther think that Mr. Charles's affections are bestowed 
 already — to a charming young creature, too, as you're 
 not in the hunt with.' 
 
 * And now, won't you have some luncheon "^ You 
 must want it after your ride,' I heard her say to her 
 jockey, putting on a languishing sort of look in her big 
 black eyes that I shouldn't have thought her capable of. 
 
 ' No, thanks, IMiss Lyle,' replied Mr. Charles. ' I am 
 afraid I must ask you to excuse me. The fact is,' he 
 blurted out, ' I promised to have lunch with the 
 Coverlys directly I had been to congratulate you.' 
 
 ' Oh, by all means go and keep your engagement,' 
 said Miss Lyle, drawing herself up, and looking as black 
 as thunder. ' I would not be the means of preventing 
 you enjoying the delightful society of the fascinating 
 Miss Coverly for worlds.' 
 
 I don't think Mr. Charles noticed the spiteful way 
 she spoke ; anyhow, he said nothing, but, taking off 
 
A WOMAN'S REVENGE 177 
 
 his hat and wishing her good-bye, off he walked past 
 her. 
 
 ' Checkmate for you, you vixen,** thinks I to myself. 
 ' If I look at your face any more it'll spoil my appetite 
 for lunch, so Fll slope off too,' and I accordingly followed 
 Mr. Charles to our carriage, where sat the Squire and his 
 daughter, just commencing their lunch. Oh, how proud 
 my young lady looked as Mr. Charles described the 
 incidents of the race to her. It didn't want much dis- 
 crimination to tell what was going on in that quarter. 
 Why, anyone could see with half an eye that each of 
 'em worshipped the ground t'other walked upon. And 
 surely they was made by nature for one another : the 
 same tastes in common, the same love of riding across 
 a country. I never see such a well-matched pair for 
 double harness in all my born days. And harnessed 
 together they would have been, too, if it hadn't been 
 for that cursed steeplechase, in a manner, and Miss 
 Lyle. 
 
 When I think of it, it makes me downright mad, 
 that it does. 
 
 Well, shortly after the race, won by Miss Lyle's 
 mare, the last meets of the Duke's hounds were adver- 
 tised ; and high time, too, for the farmers had begun to 
 trim the hedges, the lambs were skipping about, and the 
 woods all full of violets and primroses, all going to show 
 that spring had arrived in real earnest. 
 
 About the same time another event was given out, 
 which I for one was not surprised at, for I had seen it 
 coming on for some time past, with very great pleasure, 
 you may depend, which was the engagement of 
 Mr. Charles Peyton to my dear young lady. That 
 
 12 
 
178 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 night, gentlemen, for the first time for many years, I 
 took more than was good for me in the way of drink, 
 and am not in the least ashamed to own it. Of course, 
 though we didn't expect much sport, we attended those 
 final meets, and of course Mr. Charles Peyton (growing 
 tenderer and tenderer each day to someone) was one of 
 the party. 
 
 It was on a Thursday, I remember, and it was the 
 very last fixture but one, that being on the following 
 Saturday. The three of us rode up to the meet 
 (Mr. Charles had picked us up half-way), and as we 
 got there, the very first person we met, sitting on her 
 horse, not a soul speaking to her, as usual — for some- 
 how people, men especially, never seemed to cotton to 
 her — was Miss Lyle, looking paler than usual, to my 
 mind, and with a queer, uncanny sort of look that I 
 never remembered to have noticed before on her face. 
 
 To my great surprise, she actually of her own accord 
 came forward to meet us, and greeted my lady and 
 Mr. Charles in the most friendly, not to say affectionate, 
 way, overwhelming them with congratulations. 
 
 ' Why not ?' says you. ' Surely a very natural thing 
 for her to do.' To which I reply : ' Certainly, very 
 natural !' But, then, don't you see, she never went on 
 in that sort of a way, as a rule, so you can hardly 
 wonder that I felt rather surprised. Indeed, I couldn't 
 help saying to myself: 'What's in the wind now, I 
 wonder ?' 
 
 ' Good-morning, Miss Coverly ; good-morning, Mr. 
 Peyton,' says she in the most affable manner possible, 
 and smiling away all over her face, as if the sight 
 of the pair of 'em was as welcome to her as flowers 
 
A WOMAN^S REVENGE 179 
 
 in May. ' I was particularly anxious to see you, 
 Mr. Peyton, before the hounds moved oif to draw," she 
 went on, ' because,' says she, ' I want to ask you to do 
 me a very great favour. "* 
 
 ' YouVe only got to name it. Miss Lyle," answered 
 Mr. Charles in his pleasant way, ' and it's done — if, that 
 is to say,' he added, ' it lies in my power.' 
 
 ' Oh, it's quite in your line, I assure you,' was the 
 laughing reply. ' Nothing more than to ride a new 
 horse I have just bought next Saturday, and tell me 
 what you think of him. He only arrived from London 
 yesterday, and I haven't the pluck to ride him myself, 
 or I wouldn't ask you. He's quite thoroughbred, and I 
 think you'll say he looks like going. At all events, will 
 you try him for me, and tell me if you think he is quiet 
 enough for me to ride ? We poor timid women, you 
 know, Mr. Peyton, have such things as nerves, and I 
 fear I am not exempt from the failing.' 
 
 'Well,' thought I, ' that's pretty warm, that is. Why, 
 of all the determined 'osswomen I ever set eyes on, I 
 think you're the fiercest. Nerves ! Why, I don't 
 believe you've got such a thing as a nerve about 
 you !' 
 
 ' I shall be most happy, I'm sure, Miss Lyle,' replied 
 Mr. Charles. At the same time he added : ' You will 
 excuse my saying that I can't agree with you as to your 
 want of nerve, for I don't think I ever saw a more 
 determined horsewoman than yourself. Anyhow, if 
 you'll send the steed in question to the meet on 
 Saturday, I'll get on him and see what he's made of. 
 I don't suppose we shall have much of a day, as there's 
 so very little scent just now, but I can lark the new 
 
 12—2 
 
180 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 purchase over a fence or two, if it comes to the worst 
 — can I not ?' 
 
 Now, I don't know how it was, but I had a sort of 
 presentiment come over me that Miss Lyle meant 
 mischief in some sort of way. I felt perfectly certain 
 that she was in love with Mr. Charles herself, and 
 was mad with rage, for all her show of pleasantry, at 
 having the ground cut from beneath her feet by her 
 rival. With these thoughts running through my brain, 
 I determined to try and find out whether the new horse 
 had anything to do with it. Miss Lyle's own groom 
 was a surly, ill-conditioned fellow, and he and I, as a 
 rule, had very little to say to each other, so I knew 
 that it would be of no use trying to pump him in the 
 matter. But, thinks I, I know, I fancy, how I can get 
 at you, my lass, and that's through my wife's niece, 
 Jane Brown, who is under-housemaid at Miss Lyle's, 
 and is keeping company with Joe Sparrow (the groom 
 in question). She'll worm it out of him if anybody 
 will. Accordingly, that very night, after we had got 
 in from hunting, I took and drove a dog-cart over to 
 Crowberry Hall. She was a sharp girl, and very 
 quickly understood what she had to do. 
 
 ' I'll get it out of him, never fear, uncle,' said she, 
 delighted at the job, 'and I'll send over a lad with 
 a letter to you, addressed to aunt, some time to- 
 morrow.' 
 
 I went off well satisfied ; and, sure enough, true to 
 her word, just as I was smoking my after-dinner pipe 
 the next day, a boy turns up with a letter from Jane. 
 It was a very short one, so I am good for every word 
 of it. This is what it said : 
 
A WOMAN^S REVENGE 181 
 
 * Dear Uncle, 
 
 'See as Mr. C. don't ride Miss L.'s horse to- 
 morrow. My duty to aunt, and I remain your affec- 
 tionate niece, 
 
 * Jane Brown."* 
 
 I smoked my pipe, read the letter over four or five 
 times, and finally put it into my pocket, went up to the 
 house, and asked to see my mistress. She was at 
 luncheon, and Mr. Charles was with her, and she sent 
 out word that they were coming out to the stables 
 almost directly. In a quarter of an hour down they 
 came, and then I told them both straight what I 
 thought, finishing up my story with Jane's letter. 
 
 Well, my dear young lady thought there was some- 
 thing in it, and, being upset, as I could see, begged 
 Mr. Charles not to ride the horse. But he laughed 
 the idea of anything being wrong to scorn, and said he 
 most certainly should not go from his promise to Miss 
 Lyle. And as, after a good deal of talking, he brought 
 my lady to his own way of thinking, I saw there was 
 no use in my saying any more on the subject. For all 
 they said to the contrary, though, I couldn't get it out 
 of my head that something dreadful was going to 
 happen, and I never slept a single wink all that night 
 in consequence. It was a presentiment that I had, and 
 nothing could drive it away. The morning came at last, 
 and away my lady and me started for the last meet of the 
 season, picking up Mr. Charles at his own lodge-gates, 
 which were about half-way. The meet was at Slap- 
 pington Castle, where the Duke's family lived, and, 
 being the last day of the season, there was an immense 
 
182 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 large company present, His Grace having opened his 
 house to all comers. It was twelve before they thought 
 of making a move. 
 
 ' And now for this fiery steed that I am to ride ! 
 Which is it .'*' exclaimed Mr. Charles, as he and my 
 young lady and Miss Lyle all three together emerged 
 from the front-door. 
 
 ' This is the 'oss, sir,' said Miss Lyle's man, indicating 
 as he spoke a very handsome chestnut horse, which was 
 led about by a groom. 
 
 'Oh, that's him, is it? Well, he's good-looking 
 enough for anything,' replied Mr. Charles ; ' seems a 
 little nervous, though,' he added, as he eyed the way 
 the animal fidgeted about. ' He'll be better after a 
 bit, no doubt, when we move off. Now, ladies, let me 
 put you up, and then I'll mount the stranger, and put 
 him through his paces.' 
 
 And having put Miss Lyle and my lady into their 
 saddles, he jumped on the chestnut's back. A good- 
 looking horse he was and no mistake, but there was a 
 queer look about his eye that I did not quite under- 
 stand. However, thought I, it might be only fancy on 
 my part, and one thing is very certain, and that is, that 
 if you're trying any games on with Mr. Charles, you'll 
 find you've got your master, I fancy. Away we went 
 across the park to draw the Home Wood. The chest- 
 nut seemed rather excitable, but otherwise went very 
 well, jumping a flight of rails his rider put him at in 
 the style of an accomplished fencer ; and, having gone 
 out of his way to take him over one or two ordinary 
 fences, Mr. Charles pronounced Miss Lyle's chestnut to 
 be a nice horse, and nothing but it. 'And I should 
 
A WOMAN'S REVENGE 183 
 
 say,** he added, ' he would carry you, Miss Lyle, like a 
 bird; 
 
 Well, we had no sport, as might be expected, the 
 country being as dry as a bone, and not an atom of 
 scent, and it was simply a case of riding about from 
 covert to covert. All had gone well so far, and I had 
 begun to think that Jane Brown must have made a 
 mistake, and 1 was an old woman, when all of a sudden, 
 as we were standing about in a road that ran between 
 two woods, and I was talking to a party of several 
 second-horsemen, I suddenly heard my name mentioned. 
 
 A groom, riding up with a pale face, was inquiring for 
 Mr. Bloss. 
 
 ' There's been an accident,' says he, pointing with his 
 whip down the road — ' an accident to Mr. Peyton,' he 
 says, ' and your missis is hollerin' for you.' 
 
 I turned as white as a sheet, they told me, as I 
 galloped off to where I saw signs of an unusual com- 
 motion, and, making my way through the crowd, a nice 
 sight met my eyes. There in the middle of the road 
 lay Miss Lyle's chestnut horse, stone dead. Close by, 
 supported in the arms of the Duke himself, who knelt 
 by his side in the road, lay poor Mr. Charles Peyton, a 
 look like death on his face ; whilst on the other side, 
 wiping his forehead with her handkerchief, knelt my 
 poor mistress in a terrible state of distress. Miss Lyle, 
 with a fixed, stony look on her pale face, sat on her 
 horse close by. 
 
 ' Here comes the doctor !' said someone in the crowd, 
 as Dr. Jameson, who happened to be out, arrived on 
 the scene, jumped off his horse, and at once knelt down 
 by the injured man. 
 
184 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 He looked hard at him for a moment, and then 
 passed his hand over Mr. Charles's heart. 
 
 ' The Duchess's carriage is there, doctor,' said the 
 Duke. ' He had better be driven up to the Castle, had 
 he not ? It's nearer than home, you know.' 
 
 ' The carriage, by all means, your Grace,' replied the 
 doctor, rising to his legs ; ' but Mr. Peyton had better 
 be driven straight home,' and he whispered something 
 at the same time in the Duke's ear. 
 
 I saw a chanfje come over His Grace's face as he 
 glanced hastily at my mistress, and I well knew what 
 that whisper was. My poor mistress, happening to look 
 up, saw the Duke's pained expression, and at once 
 guessed the truth. Giving one look of reproach at 
 Miss Lyle (I can assure you, gentlemen, that look some- 
 times haunts me now), she fell in a swoon on the pros- 
 trate body of her lover. Yes, it was too true ! Poor 
 Mr. Charles Peyton would never more go out hunting 
 or ride another steeplechase. He was dead. The 
 chestnut, without the slightest warning, was suddenly 
 seized with a fit of what is known as the ' staggers,' had 
 reared straight up on end and fallen back dead on the 
 hard road, crushing his rider beneath him in his fall. 
 It was a case of a ' Woman's Revenge.' 
 
 People declared that Miss Lyle knew all about the 
 horse's infirmity when she bought it, and had adopted 
 the expedient of getting Mr. Charles Peyton to ride the 
 horse on the off-chance of a catastrophe happening, in 
 order to revenge herself on the hated rival who had cut 
 her out in her misplaced affections. 
 
 It was a dreadful thing to say of any woman, but it is 
 to be feared that the accusation was nothing but truth. 
 
A WOMAN'S REVENGE 185 
 
 Anyhow, Miss Lyle, finding herself avoided by every- 
 body, shut up her house and went to live abroad, where 
 she has been ever since, and where I sincerely hope she 
 will stay. 
 
 My mistress stayed on at the Hall until the Squire 
 died, since which time she has never lived there. In the 
 summer she generally goes to some seaside place, the 
 wilder and quieter the better. In the winter she hunts, 
 and seldom in the same place for more than one season. 
 
 There is one thing, gentlemen, that you may be quite 
 certain that she will never do, and that is, marry. 
 And you know the reason why. 
 
THE LOTTERY TICKET 
 
 THE DECAYED GENTLEMAN'S STORY 
 
 When, as I made a point of doing, I paid my accus- 
 tomed visits o' nights to the Horse-shoe Club, I always 
 found a seat reserved for me on Bob Magnum's (the 
 chairman's) right hand, which position I found very 
 convenient, as Bob, being ' well acquaint,' as they say 
 north of the Tweed, with all the members, was naturally 
 well qualified to tell me who they were and what they 
 were — all about them, in fact. 
 
 I had noticed that every night when I visited the 
 club the chair at the far end of the long table was 
 occupied by an elderly gentleman of somewhat mildewy 
 appearance, who invariably, on my entrance into the 
 room, rose from his seat, removed the churchwarden 
 that he always smoked, from his lips, and made me a 
 solemn bow, which I as solemnly returned ere I sat 
 down. This ceremony went on for several nights, and 
 at last I took it upon myself to inquire of our jovial 
 chairman who the venerable one was. 
 
 ' Oh, that's old Mr. Grounsell,' replied Bob calmly ; 
 ' he's a decayed gentleman, that's what he is, poor old 
 fellow.' 
 
THE LOTTERY TICKET 187 
 
 ' A decayed gentleman !' replied I, rather horror- 
 struck, for I didn't quite grasp BoVs meaning for the 
 moment ; and I found myself taking a hasty glance at 
 the old gentleman as he sat sipping his gin-and-water 
 and smoking his long pipe, just to see if any part of his 
 human anatomy had had enough of him — an arm drop 
 off, or perhaps a leg. 
 
 Bob evidently read my thoughts, for he laughed and 
 said : ' Oh, I didn't mean that the old boy was diseased 
 or anything like that, but only that he had seen better 
 days, don't you know, sir. He lives along with a 
 married daughter, Mrs. Mallard, who keeps the circula- 
 ting library in the High Street, and I believe is supposed 
 to help in the business, but, between you and me, I don't 
 think he does much, except to read the papers. Betting, 
 I fancy, brought him down in the world, and I don't 
 believe the lesson he's learnt has done him much good, 
 for when the racing season is on, nothing the poor old 
 gentleman likes so much as discussing the merits and 
 chances of the horses with anybody he can get to talk 
 with him. He can't bet, though, for the very good 
 reason why, because he's got no money to bet with, he 
 having, I'm told, literally nothing but a small allowance 
 his good daughter makes him, just sufficient to keep him 
 in tobacco and a glass or two in the evening. But there 
 is just one little gamble the poor old gentleman manages 
 to go in for once a year, and that is the Derby lottery. 
 I always have one here every year, just for the amuse- 
 ment of the customers. It's only five shillings each, and 
 Mr. Grounsell is one of the first to put down his name 
 for it, and I verily believe goes to bed every night and 
 dreams he's drawn the winner. He won it one year, I 
 
188 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 recollect, and, lor^ bless you ! the place would hardly 
 hold him in consequence. I was just telling this gentle- 
 man,' said Bob, raising his voice and addressing Mr. 
 Grounsell, who happened to be looking our way — ' I was 
 just telling this gentleman how lucky you were with our 
 Derby lottery here five years ago."* 
 
 ' Oh, were you. Bob, were you ?' quavered the old 
 man, evidently well pleased. ' Yes, sir, I recollect it 
 well. Something — I don't know what it was — but 
 something impelled me to choose No. 43 in the lottery, 
 and sure enough, when the affair was drawn in this very 
 room, I was lucky enough to get the favourite. King 
 Arthur. I wouldn't sell him, though, sir — no, I 
 wouldn't sell him on any account, though I had no end 
 of offers, and he justified my confidence, sir,' said Mr. 
 Grounsell proudly, banging his fist upon the table, 
 ' by winning the Blue Riband of the turf, as that great 
 man the late Earl of Beaconsfield called the Derby, in a 
 common canter — a common canter, sir.' 
 
 'You've put into a many lotteries in your time, I 
 'xpect, haven't you, Mr. Grounsell ?' observed Bolus, 
 the chemist, with a wink at the assembled company. 
 
 ' I have. A great many,' replied Mr. Grounsell with 
 dignity. 
 
 ' And won a good lot, no doubt,' went on this gentle- 
 man. 
 
 ' No, there you're wrong,' answered the old gentleman ; 
 ' for barring the one in this very house — the one we 
 have just been talking about — I never won a sweep in 
 my life. I made a tidy sum out of a lottery ticket, 
 though, one year — a good long while ago now — and as 
 the circumstances attending it were somewhat remark- 
 
THE LOTTERY TICKET 189 
 
 able, I shall be happy to tell you all about it, if the 
 present company would care to listen/ 
 
 The idea meeting with general approval from every- 
 one in the room, glasses were refilled, and Bob Magnum 
 having imposed silence by knocking loudly on the table 
 with the presidential hammer, the ' Decayed Gentle- 
 man ' commenced the following story : 
 
 I was born, gentlemen, in a village some three miles 
 from Newmarket. It cannot, of course, interest any of 
 you in the slightest degree to know the exact locality of 
 my birthplace, and I merely mention the fact because it 
 explains in a great measure the extraordinary fascination 
 horse-racing has had for me all my life. Even now, 
 though I never bet, I still continue to take the liveliest 
 interest in the sport of kings. I make careful analyses 
 of the great handicaps, study closely the performances 
 of the horses, and then on each race day I make fancy 
 bets with myself. You've no conception, gentlemen, 
 the magnitude that my operations in the ring assume 
 sometimes. Bless you, if I get hold of what I think to 
 be a real * good thing,' I think nothing of laying six to 
 four in thousands. 
 
 I spotted the winner of the Cambridgeshire last year 
 the moment the weights were out, and I took the 
 long odds about him before the acceptances appeared, 
 to win me seventy thousand pounds, my commission 
 averaging thirty to one. It was a pity it was all make- 
 believe, wasn't it, gentlemen ? Sometimes, of course, I 
 have a bad week with myself, and the whole thing seems 
 so real to me that I actually find myself waking up in 
 the night and wondering how in the world I shall 
 
190 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 manage to settle my account on the Monday. Alto- 
 gether, gentlemen, I manage to extract a great deal of 
 amusement from the turf — ^just about the same amount 
 of fun, indeed, that my little three-year-old grand- 
 daughter Flossie gets from the doll I purchased for her 
 on her last birthday. 
 
 Well, gentlemen, as I have told you, born and bred 
 as I was in such close proximity to the metropolis of 
 the turf, so to speak, and hearing nothing but racing 
 talk day after day, to the exclusion of all other topics, 
 you can hardly wonder that by the time I arrived at 
 man^s estate I found myself thoroughly inoculated with 
 turf fever. When I was nineteen only my father died, 
 and, owing to his infatuation for the same amusement, 
 he left his family in very poor circumstances, so much 
 so that I was obliged at once to seek employment. An 
 uncle of mine, my mother's only brother, procured me a 
 desk in a first-rate merchant's office at Liverpool, and 
 thither I went within a fortnight of my father's death. 
 
 'And let me give you a piece of advice, William,'' 
 said my uncle, the night before I started. ' Whatever 
 you do, don't bet. If you do, and you are found out 
 in the office, they will get rid of you as sure as you are 
 born. Not only that, it is sure to lead to ultimate ruin. 
 So take my advice, my boy, if you want to get on and 
 prosper and be of help to your mother and sisters : leave 
 gambling alone for the future. It's bad enough for 
 those that can aftbrd to lose ; how much worse, then, 
 must it be for one like you, to whom every penny is of 
 importance !' 
 
 My uncle was a kind man, and, as I had a great liking 
 as well as respect for him, his last words to me carried 
 
THE LOTTERY TICKET 191 
 
 great weight with them ; so much so, that by the time I 
 had come to my journey's end, I had fully determined 
 in my own mind that for the future I would bid good- 
 bye to all thoughts of my engrossing pastime and attend 
 strictly to my business. It was unfortunate that I 
 should have arrived at my destination just on the eve 
 of an important race, but so it was. What was in those 
 days a very important event in the racing world — viz., 
 the Chester Cup — w^as coming off the following week, 
 and one could not in consequence walk along a street 
 without being made aware of the fact. Knots of idlers, 
 sporting clerks, etc., were to be seen congregated at each 
 corner, eagerly discussing the merits and chances of the 
 different competitors. 
 
 I quickly found, too, that when my uncle said that 
 if my betting was found out in the office I should pro- 
 bably get what is vulgarly known as the ' sack,' he was 
 rather overstepping the mark, for it was very certain 
 that if I were to get my conge for such an enormity, my 
 fellow clerks, with hardly an exception, would have to 
 share the same fate, nearly all of them being partial to 
 backing their fancy for all the great events. One of 
 them, a young man of the name of Parker, some few 
 years older than me, seemed the most knowing one of 
 the lot, being evidently looked up to as an authority 
 upon turf matters by all the rest. 
 
 He was evidently a gentleman with a good opinion 
 of himself, and seemed rather inclined to give me the 
 cold shoulder at first ; but the moment I casually let 
 drop in the course of conversation that I came from 
 Newmarket, he very quickly changed his attitude to- 
 wards me, and, sidling up soon after, kindly offered, as I 
 
192 ANiNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 was strange to the place, to accompany me when I went 
 out at one o'clock to my dinner, and point out to me 
 where was the best place to dine — ' show me the ropes,"* 
 as he termed it. 
 
 I accepted his offer with thanks, and at the appointed 
 hour out we went, and I am bound to say I had no cause 
 to regret having accepted his invitation. We had a capital 
 dinner at a certain snug chop-house, where ray mentor, 
 being evidently well known, was received with every 
 attention, and then rose with the intention of taking a 
 stroll through the town before returning to the office. 
 
 ' By the way,' observed my companion, on our emerg- 
 ing in the street, ' I want to see how Uncle Tom's going 
 for the Chester Cup. If you don't mind, we'll just have 
 a look in at the I^ane and find out. I heard this morn- 
 ing that he was going rather queerly in the market, and 
 I have backed him pretty heavily, so am a bit anxious.' 
 The Lane turned out to be a very narrow thoroughfare, 
 with a high wall on one side and hoardings covered 
 with advertisements on the other, where originally 
 houses had been. Against the wall in question were 
 numerous betting men standing on stools with their 
 clerks, lists and all complete, shouting the odds with 
 all their might and main. The Lane itself was crowded 
 with backers of all sorts — flash-looking clerks, burly 
 warehousemen in their shirt-sleeves and leather aprons 
 — every species of working man, in fact, all jostling one 
 another in their eagerness to put a crown, or even a 
 shilling, on their fancy for the ' Coop '; for the magnates 
 of the Lane, acting, no doubt, upon the principle that 
 little fish are sweet, were not a bit proud as to what 
 they took. Well, Uncle Tom, we found, had a tendency 
 
THE LOTTERY TICKET 193 
 
 to go up in the market if anything, much to Parker's 
 satisfaction ; indeed, he invested another sovereign on 
 him there and then. Alas for my good resolutions ! 'Evil 
 communications corrupt good manners,' as the copybooks 
 say, for before we left the Lane I had invested a couple 
 of pounds of my own money on the same noble animal 
 to win and a place, at twenty and five to one respec- 
 tively. My companion and I turned into a house of 
 call of his and drank success to Uncle Tom. 
 
 The Chester Cup came, and our horse won. I really 
 believe it would have been a good thing for me if he 
 hadn't, for from that time forth the Turf, and the Turf 
 only, was uppermost in my thoughts. 
 
 Well, during the three years I remained in Liverpool 
 I was wonderfully lucky, and at the end of that time I 
 actually managed to save over a thousand pounds. It 
 was at that period of my career that, going home to 
 my mother's for a fortnight's holiday, I met with my 
 future wife. Her father, who was a retired lieutenant 
 in the navy, with a shocking temper, refused to give his 
 consent to our wedding until I was in receipt of three 
 hundred a year at least, and as I knew it would be a 
 long while before that halcyon period arrived, I per- 
 suaded my Bessie to make a bolt of it. She, after a 
 long demur, at last consented, and accordingly one fine 
 day we took French leave, and went and got married on 
 our own account. 
 
 Bessie eased her conscience in the matter by writing 
 a penitent letter to her father immediately afterwards, 
 which letter the lieutenant returned unopened by the 
 next post, which was rude, to say the least. 
 
 Nothing daunted, we took a little cottage at Hamp- 
 
 13 
 
194 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 stead — a perfect little nest it was — and, having settled 
 down, I determined to let business run loose for the 
 present at all events, and try and turn my talents to 
 account by betting. Hitherto I had only betted in 
 small sums — at the most a five-pound note at a time. If, 
 then, I argued with myself, I can make twelve hundred 
 pounds with such trifling investments as I have been in 
 the habit of indulging, how much more ought I to 
 make by speculating on a larger scale ? — of course, with 
 discretion — oh yes, of course, with discretion ! 
 
 Accordingly, I proceeded to carry out my resolution, 
 and began to attend the different race-meetings as regu- 
 larly as the most ardent turfite. Things went fairly 
 well for the first year. If I didn't win a great deal, I, 
 at all events, was not out of pocket, and that was some- 
 thing. Soon after Christmas Bessie's baby was born. 
 You all know her, gentlemen, and what a comfort she 
 is to her father in his old age (at this stage Mr. Groun- 
 sell shed a tear or two into his gin-and- water), and there 
 wasn't a happier household in England, I'll venture to 
 say, than the tenants of Woodbine Cottage. 
 
 Well, spring arrived in due season, and, buckling on 
 my armour once more, I kissed Bessie and the child, 
 and started one cold morning in March for Lincoln, to 
 once more try my luck at the hands of my fickle 
 mistress, the Turf. 
 
 That year was a decided success in every way. I 
 began well and wound up well, and even Bessie began 
 to look upon racing with a more favourable eye than 
 she had done hitherto. How I would give it to the 
 ring next season was my perpetual thought during the 
 winter months. I was so eager to begin that I thought 
 
THE LOTTERY TICKET 195 
 
 the winter never would go. At last it disappeared, 
 and once more did I find myself departing for the wars 
 like a warrior of old. 
 
 It would have been a good thing for me had I stayed 
 at home. At Lincoln, favourite after favourite went 
 down, and I couldn't back a winner ; in fact, it was the 
 worst meeting I had ever had since I commenced going 
 racing. Of course, gambler-like, I expected to get it 
 all back again, but unfortunately I did not. Lincoln, 
 indeed, was only a forerunner of similar disasters. 
 Finally, rendered desperate by failure after failure, I 
 went a raker for a horse that I had heard on unques- 
 tionable authority was a real ' good thing "* for the 
 Cambridgeshire. He came in last but one in the race, 
 and I found myself irretrievably ruined. 
 
 I was positively ashamed to look Bessie in the face 
 when I got home, but she behaved like the true, kind- 
 hearted woman she was, and never once upbraided me, 
 richly though I felt I deserved it. 
 
 ' Never mind, Peter dear,' said she, caressing me ; ' I 
 feared somehow it would come to this sooner or later, 
 and if the crash has come a little sooner than I ex- 
 pected, why, we must make the best of it, that's all. 
 You must try and get employment of some sort, and 
 with what you earn and the hundred a year poor papa 
 left me, we shall jog along very comfortably, no doubt. 
 It shan't be my fault if we don't. And now, dear 
 Peter,' said my brave Bessie, ' there's one thing I must 
 ask you to promise me, and I know that if you give me 
 your word you'll keep it.' 
 
 ' I think I can guess what it is, Bessie,' replied I ; ' but 
 you shall have your wish, whatever it is.' 
 
 13—2 
 
196 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 ' Well,' said Bessie, ' I want you to say you will give 
 up betting for the future. I'm afraid it's a hard thing 
 to ask ; but will you, Peter ? You'll make me so happy 
 if you will.' 
 
 Well, gentlemen, I don't mind confessing that it was 
 rather a hard nut to crack, but I gave my word, as 
 Bessie wished, and, what is more, I kept it. I never 
 made another bet, gentlemen. 
 
 ' What ! Never ?' inquired young Pluggit, the 
 tobacconist, who was reckoned a bit of a wag, think- 
 ing to get a rise out of the old man. 
 
 ' No, sir — never !' replied Mr. Grounsell, looking 
 sternly for exactly a minute and a half at the now 
 abashed joker. ' If my word is not considered good 
 enough,' continued the poor old man, his voice quaver- 
 ing as he spoke, addressing the company generally, 
 ' perhaps I had better not say any more.' 
 
 But up rose a babel of voices, with ' Yes, yes ! Go 
 on, Mr. Grounsell; it's all right. Never you mind 
 Pluggit — he's nobody, he ain't.' 
 
 And the old gentleman, evidently well satisfied, with 
 a triumphant glance at the defeated Pluggit, cocked 
 his hat on one side with the air of a conqueror, re- 
 filled his pipe, replenished his glass, and once more 
 resumed his story : 
 
 Well, gentlemen, true to my promise, I knocked oflt* 
 betting for good and all, though it was a wrench, 
 gentlemen, it was indeed — just like having a tooth out, 
 in fact ; and I sought for and obtained employment as 
 a clerk in a large counting-house in the City, so that 
 
■•> 
 
 THE LOTTERY TICKET 197 
 
 what with my screw and my wife's hundred a year we 
 were able to jog along, if not in affluence, at all events 
 in comfort. Not only that, there was Uncle Zachary. 
 Uncle Zach, as we always called him, was a brother of 
 my wife's late father, and had always lived with him 
 until the latter's death, and, being a very old man, over 
 eighty, indeed, and not liking to leave him to take care 
 of himself, my soft-hearted Bessie proposed that we 
 should offer him a home and take care of him. The 
 poor old man gladly accepted the offer, and, as he 
 possessed an annuity of seventy-five pounds, it was 
 arranged between us that he should pay us forty out 
 of it for his board and lodging. 
 
 He was a harmless old man enough, his one failing 
 beino^ a weakness for drink. 
 
 This failing was, on the whole, a very great nuisance 
 to us, for not only was it unsafe to leave any wines or 
 spirits about in the house, but one never felt certain, 
 when the old gentleman took his walks abroad, that he 
 would not return in an advanced stage of inebriation, 
 escorted by a mob of jeering boys, if he did return at 
 all. I say 'if advisedly, for not seldom on returning 
 from my day's work in the City, tired and hungry, I 
 would be informed that our aged relative was detained 
 in durance vile in a cell at the police-station, waiting 
 for me to bail him out, he having been escorted there 
 in the course of the afternoon by one of the force, who 
 had picked him up in a comatose state on the pave- 
 ment. 
 
 On these occasions the old man, on being brought 
 home, would cry piteously, and make all sorts of 
 promises to my wife never to so forget himself again, 
 
198 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 which, of course, he never did until next time, which 
 was generally about a week hence. 
 
 At last Uncle Zachary got so very disreputable in 
 his habits that Bessie and I both agreed that we could 
 stand it no longer, so, catching our troublesome relative 
 one day in one of his sober moments, we put it clearly 
 that it must be one of two things for the future, either 
 he must give us sole control over his money, and submit, 
 when he went out for a walk, to have his pocket-money 
 restricted to the amount of sixpence, or, as the only 
 other alternative, he must take himself off from our 
 house, and for the future get someone else to look 
 after him. 
 
 This conversation had the desired effect, the poor old 
 man tearfully expressing himself willing to submit to 
 any arrangement we were pleased to make sooner than 
 leave his dear Bessie and her good husband, as he was 
 pleased to term me. After this things went on more 
 comfortably, as may be imagined. Uncle Zach invari- 
 ably returned from his constitutional as sober as a 
 judge. The poor old fellow was gradually getting 
 very childish in all his ways, and had got a great idea 
 in his head, which was to go out to Australia and start 
 sheep-farming, and for this purpose he bought a 
 money-box ; and very often, instead of spending his 
 magnificent allowance in drink, would pop it into his 
 private savings bank, to go towards the expenses of 
 his journey to the Antipodes. Needless to say, we 
 encouraged him in his notion. Well, things were going 
 swimmingly with us. Our little girl was a perfect 
 treasure ; my wife, free from anxiety on my account, 
 was, she declared, the happiest woman in England ; 
 
THE LOTTERY TICKET 199 
 
 our big baby, as she called Uncle Zach, was behaving 
 himself beautifully ; and, lastly, to make things still 
 more cheerful, I got a rise in my salary one fine 
 day. 
 
 It was quite unexpected ; and before I went home 
 that night I thought, under the circumstances, I was 
 quite justified in buying a present of some sort as a 
 souvenir of the occasion for the dear ones at home. So 
 accordingly I made my little purchase, and then, feeling 
 rather tired after my exertions in the shopping line, I 
 turned into a certain busy hostelry situated in a little 
 street off the Strand, that I had been wont to use a 
 good deal in former days, and ordered a modest glass 
 of brandy-and-water, intending, as soon as I had 
 swallowed it, to take the omnibus home. 
 
 'What, Mr. Grounsell !' suddenly exclaimed a jolly 
 voice ; ' ifs never you, sure-ly ? Why, I thought you 
 was dead and buried long ago. Come inside, sir — 
 come in and have a glass and smoke and a chat over 
 old times.' 
 
 The jolly voice was that of mine host of the Grapes, 
 Sam Stebbing by name, as cheery a soul, gentlemen, as 
 ever laid a winner or cracked a bottle with a boon com- 
 panion. Sam, besides his regular business, always had 
 a book on the principal events of the year, and in the 
 old days he and I had had many a bet together. 
 
 Nothing now would satisfy him but a bottle of cham- 
 pagne, ' For,"* quoth he, ' we don't come across such an 
 old friend as you every day in the week,' and, as I was 
 nothing loth, down we sat accordingly. 
 
 'Well,' said my jolly host, after we had compared 
 notes, ' and so you have given up backing horses, eh ? 
 
200 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 Well, perhaps youVe wise. I, for one, don't blame 
 you. You see, the difference between the backer and 
 the layer is this : Whereas the former only has one or 
 two running for him, the latter has the whole field, 
 perhaps five-and -twenty or thirty : therefore it stands to 
 reason he's bound to have the best of it in the long-run 
 — that's only common-sense, that is. I tell you what, 
 though,' continued the voluble Sam, 'though you've 
 made a vow to the missus to give up backing 'em, I 
 don't see why you shouldn't have a shy at my big 
 Derby Lottery. Five hundred members at a pound 
 each. Four hundred clear to the winner, and the rest 
 divided between second and third. There are only 
 about twenty chances left, and it's drawn next week. 
 Come now, Mr. G., let me sell you a ticket, just for 
 once.' 
 
 Well, gentlemen, I was not proof against Sam's per- 
 suasive powers ; and as I had had such a good day, I 
 did not see why I shouldn't have a bit of fun on my 
 own account once in a way, so accordingly I handed 
 my host a sovereign, and, having chosen No. 453, re- 
 ceived a duplicate ticket in exchange. And by this 
 time, the bottle of champagne being finished, I bade 
 a cordial farewell to Sam Stebbing, and walked off to 
 get the bus for Hampstead. 
 
 Great was the rejoicing at home at the good news I 
 brought. The presents were distributed, the lottery 
 ticket discussed, and we were intensely happy, the lot 
 of us, including poor old Uncle Zach, who smoked the 
 new pipe I had bought him with great delight. The 
 old man was allowed an extra glass of grog that night, 
 too, in honour of the occasion ; ' And I tell you what it 
 
THE LOTTERY TICKET 201 
 
 is, Uncle Zach; said I, the last thing that night, ' if 
 Bessie will let us, you and I will go to the Grapes next 
 Monday night, and between us see if we can t draw the 
 favourite in the Derby Lottery. So we will.' 
 
 I need scarcely tell you, gentlemen, that Uncle Zach 
 was uncommon keen to go, and, having obtained Bessie's 
 consent, it was arranged that the old man should call 
 for me at the office at five o'clock ; we would then go 
 and have a chop somewhere, and adjourn to the Grapes 
 afterwards. 
 
 Well, gentlemen, to make a long story short, it may 
 seem incredible to you, but it was true, nevertheless, 
 when at the drawing of the lottery my number— 453— 
 was called out, the horse that corresponded to it was 
 none other than Jeremy Diddler, the first favourite for 
 
 the Derby. 
 
 No sooner was the lucky number drawn than I got 
 offers on all sides to purchase. 'My tear,' whispered 
 one old Jew, taking me on one side, ' I don't think the 
 'orse will vin myself, but, just by vay of a speculation, 
 111 give you a hundred for your chance.' 
 
 But I shook my head to all of them. Finally, the 
 most persistent bidder of any of them pulled out two 
 notes for a hundred each. ' There,' said he ; ' that's 
 the amount I'm prepared to give for Jeremy Diddler. 
 And in case you should change your mind, sir, before 
 the day,' he continued, addressing me, ' I shall leave 
 these notes with Mr. Stebbing, to hand over to you in 
 exchange for the lottery ticket, should you wish to 
 
 dispose of it.' 
 
 But no ; I determined not to sell at any price. 
 Jeremy Diddler was a firm favourite, and the general 
 
202 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 opinion was that he was bound to win. In short, I 
 looked upon the four hundred pounds as already in 
 my pocket. 
 
 Uncle Zach, on the contrary, was not at all of my 
 opinion. 
 
 ' Oh, why didn't you sell ? Why didn't you sell ?' 
 he kept saying on his way home, making one feel quite 
 irritable, I can assure you. And the last thing, as he 
 took his candle and said good-night, he began again : 
 ' Oh, why didn't you sell ? If it had been mine, Fd 
 have taken the money and gone to Australia to-morrow 
 with it.' 
 
 ' No, no, uncle,' said I ; ' I'll win the lot or nothing.' 
 And so saying, I put away the lottery ticket then and 
 there in an old desk that was in the room, and that 
 done went to bed and dreamed that Jeremy Diddler 
 won the Derby by ten lengths. Well, the Derby Day 
 came in due course, and I gave a sigh as I saw what 
 a heavenly day it was, and thought how much pleasanter 
 it would be enjoying one's self on the Downs than stewing 
 in a fusty office. However, it was no use kicking 
 against the pricks, and so off I went as usual, L^ncle 
 Zach, in a suppressed state of excitement, for some 
 reason or other, accompanying me, he being anxious to 
 get to the west end of the town in good time, so as to 
 feast his old eyes on the various equipages, all full of 
 holiday-makers, starting for Epsom. Needless to say, 
 I was rather flustered and anxious myself all day, 
 as who would not be with a sum like four hundred 
 pounds trembling in the balance ? It was not until 
 nearly five o'clock that we got the news in the City 
 (the electric telegraph not being in use in those days). 
 
THE LOTTERY TICKET 203 
 
 the result that Jeremy Diddler had come in second. 
 ' Oh, come,"* thought I, rubbing my hands, ' that's not so 
 bad, after all ! Tve won sixty pounds, at all events !' 
 
 And once more I started for home with a light heart, 
 having previously purchased an extra fine lobster for 
 supper (Bessie was particularly fond of lobster) by way 
 of celebrating the event. 
 
 Great was the rejoicing at home at my good luck, 
 and I went straight to the desk where I had placed the 
 ticket a week ago, just to gloat over it, as it were. 
 You can imagine my disgust and consternation when, 
 after rummaging the desk from top to bottom, I could 
 see nothing of it. 
 
 * Where on earth can it be ?' gasped I. 
 
 ' Who can have taken it T whispered Bessie. We 
 were standing just like two stuck pigs, not knowing 
 what to do, when a thundering knock at the front door 
 made the pair of us jump nearly out of our skins, and 
 put an end — for the present, at all events — to all specula- 
 tion as to the whereabouts of the missing ticket. 
 
 I went to the front door myself. It was a police- 
 man. (' Uncle Zach drunk again, for a hundred,' I 
 thought to myself.) 
 
 ' Is your name Mr. Grounsell, sir ?' asked the officer. 
 
 ' It is,' replied I. 
 
 ' 'Ave you a helderly gent living 'ere name o' Zachary 
 Brown ?' 
 
 ' Yes,' said I ; ' he's an uncle of ours, and who, I'm 
 sorry to say, policeman, is in the habit of taking a little 
 too much occasionally. I suppose he's at the station 
 as usual, eh T 
 
 ' Well, no, he isn't,' replied the man. ' I don't think 
 
204 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 the old gent's drunk and incapable this time. As I 
 understand, he was picked up in the street by our men, 
 and took to the station, and the divisional surgeon, 
 when he sees him, gives orders that he was to be sent 
 to the ''orspital immediate ; so he was took there, and on 
 searching of 'im they found a large sum of money in 
 bank-notes and this here address, and I was directed by 
 the inspector on dooty to come here and give informa- 
 tion to the pore old party's fambly.' 
 
 And having said his say, the police officer wiped his 
 mouth with the back of his hand, as much as to say 
 talking's dry work in summer-time, and, removing his 
 helmet, mopped his brow with a red handkerchief, and 
 remarked that it was an 'ot night, and that he thought 
 it likely there would be thunder before long. 
 
 Taking this as a hint, I called for a jug of beer, and 
 requested the policeman to sit down for a moment 
 whilst I went upstairs to get ready to accompany him 
 to the hospital. 
 
 Arrived at that institution, I ascertained that I was 
 only just in time, the poor old man's death being 
 immediately expected. 
 
 He had fallen down in a fit in the street, the doctor 
 informed me, it being probably brought on by drink 
 and excitement, accelerated by the extreme heat of 
 the day. It was lucky, remarked the doctor, that the 
 police got hold of him as soon as they did, as in the 
 breast-pocket of his coat were two bank-notes of one 
 hundred pounds each, which notes were now detained 
 by the police, and would no doubt be handed to me in 
 due course. 
 
 He then escorted me to Uncle Zach's bedside, to 
 
THE LOTTERY TICKET 205 
 
 which I arrived just in time to hear him speak for the 
 last time. 
 
 ' God bless you, my dear boy,^ said Uncle Zach. ' Fm 
 glad youVe come to say good-bye. Tm just off to Aus 
 — Australia."* And then poor, weak, disreputable old 
 Uncle Zach died. 
 
 Having made all necessary arrangements for the 
 funeral, etc., I left the hospital, and, feeling low and 
 depressed, called in at the Grapes, thinking a glass of 
 something would pick me up and put a bit of life 
 into me. 
 
 That hosteli-y, lively at all times, I found a trifle 
 more so than usual to-night, it being full of sporting 
 cits just back from Epsom, among them Sam Stebbing, 
 the proprietor, heartier than ever after his day on the 
 Surrey Downs. 
 
 ' Well, and so you thought better of it, after all, and 
 collared the two hundred !^ shouted he in his boisterous 
 way. ' Knew something, eh ? You were quite right ; 
 the favourite couldn't stay, after all. When,"* he con- 
 tinued, 'that jolly old uncle of yours turned up early 
 this morning, only just in time (for in five minutes I 
 should have started), and, handing me your ticket, 
 asked for the notes, I said to myself: " I knew he would; 
 I felt certain all along Mr. Grounsell wasn't such a flat 
 as to refuse such a good ofl*er as that.'' You ought to 
 stand something, Mr. G., for the good of the house — I'm 
 blessed if you oughtn't !' 
 
 ' Sam, my boy,' said I in reply, shaking him heartily 
 by the hand, 'I'll stand champagne all round to any 
 extent you like. You're quite right ; I got the " tip " 
 at the very last moment that the horse couldn't stay, 
 
206 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 and that's why it was I parted with the lottery 
 ticket." 
 
 Sam took me at my word, and — and I don't precisely 
 know how I got home that night, gentlemen. But 
 this I do know, which is, that when the undertaker 
 called on me next morning with reference to the arrange- 
 ments for poor old Zach's funeral, I bade him spare no 
 expense whatever, but to do the whole thing in his 
 very best style. 
 
 ' Yes," thought I to myself, as I felt the notes which 
 Uncle Zach had obtained in exchange for my lottery 
 ticket rustling pleasantly in my waistcoat pocket, ' one 
 good turn deserves another.' 
 
 I put into Sam's Derby lottery steadily every year 
 for a long while after, gentlemen, but I never had 
 another turn of luck, I'm sorry to say. 
 
A RACE FOR A WIFE 
 
 THE FARMER'S STORY 
 
 To hunt with my lord's hounds, and not to know that 
 fine, ruddy-faced specimen of the British yeoman, com- 
 monly called John Dixon, of Crabtree Farm, would 
 indeed have been strange. 
 
 In his younger days he was by all accounts the 
 recognised ' bruiser ' of the hunt, and even now, 
 though he must have swung a good nineteen stone 
 into the saddle every time he mounted his horse, he 
 was generally there or thereabouts at the finish, no 
 matter how good a thing it was. An intimate know- 
 ledge of every field, fence, and gate in the country, of 
 course, helped him to a great extent, and fond papas 
 and mammas, well aware of this fact, would carefully 
 instruct their offspring on hunting mornings, to be 
 sure, directly the hounds formed, to stick to Old John. 
 And as the jolly farmer was good-nature personified, 
 and fond of children to a degree, you would be sure to 
 see him when the hounds went away making for a point, 
 surrounded by a whole bevy of little masters and misses 
 of different ages, all mounted on ponies of various 
 
208 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 degrees of stature, reminding one somewhat of a 
 hawk when he is being followed bj a lot of small 
 birds. 
 
 John Dixon, in fact, was a very great card, not only 
 in the hunt but in the county generally. Like all 
 great men he had his enemies, of course, but on the 
 whole he was extraordinarily popular with the majority, 
 especially with the gentry. Needless to say, that on 
 market-day at Barleyford Old John was always very 
 much en evidence, and he invariably made a point of 
 ending the day with a long sitting at the Horse-shoe 
 Club, of which institution he was one of the original 
 members, and upon his arrival in the club-room was 
 always greeted with applause by the company. 
 
 When called on by the chairman for a song. Old 
 John, nothing loth, always responded with one of the 
 only two songs in his repertoire, which were respec- 
 tively, ' Jockey to the Fair,' and ' The Farmer's Boy."* 
 I think I can see and hear him now, as, in reply to the 
 encore he invariably got, his jolly face crimson from 
 the effects of his vocal efforts, aided probably by the 
 amount of brandy-and-water he had consumed during 
 the day, he, in stentorian tones that might almost have 
 been heard in the next parish, and certainly were in the 
 next street, led the chorus of one of the afore-mentioned 
 favourite ditties. 
 
 For two consecutive Saturdays (Saturday was market- 
 day at Barleyford) I had had the pleasure of hearing 
 ' Jockey to the Fair,' and ' The Farmer s Boy ' issue 
 forth from the powerful lungs of old John, and I antici- 
 pated doing so again when the third Saturday came 
 round. However, to my and everybody else's great 
 
A RACE FOR A AVIFE 209 
 
 astonishment, the worthy farmer, on being requested to 
 oblige, as usual, replied with : 
 
 ' Fve noticed, Mr. Chairman and gentlemen all, that 
 several of the members of this cloob, instead of a singing 
 a song, as they always used to do, have taken to the 
 stoory-teilin"* business instead. Now, I never was beat 
 by any mon yet, 'xcept once, and that was at Bonny- 
 field Fair years agoo, when I took on a prize-fighter by 
 mistake, and a nice dressing he gave me, I can tell 
 ee, and I don't intend to be beat now by any o' you 
 chaps, so dang me if I don't give you a bit of a yarn, 
 and we'll see if you like it as well as " Jockey to the 
 Fair." 
 
 ' The circumstance,' added John, ' which I am goin' 
 to tell ee about is strictly true, for I was there, and saw 
 it all with my own eyes. So Bob, my lad, if you'll just 
 order me another glass of brandy-and- water, and a fresh 
 cigar, I'll begin at once.' 
 
 Tremendous applause greeting this speech from all 
 parts of the room, John Dixon, having lit his cigar and 
 taken a hearty pull at his brandy-and-water, forthwith 
 commenced the following story : 
 
 It was just three years ago, in the spring-time, that 
 my wife and me left the farm to take care of itself for a 
 few days, whilst we went to pay a visit to our only girl 
 in Buttercupshire. She had been married only a little 
 over a year to young Tom Rooster, and had just pre- 
 sented him with a son and heir ('hare' the worthy 
 yeoman pronounced it), and nothing would content her 
 and Tom but that me and her mother must come to the 
 christening and stand godfather and godmother. It 
 
 14 
 
210 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 was not a bit o' use my grumbling, or, rather, pretending 
 to grumble — for, blessee, I was anxious to go, and 
 meant to all the while — and saying that I couldn't 
 possibly leave the farm just then, because of the lambs, 
 and so on. Come we must, says she in her letters. If 
 we didn't, says she, the child shouldn't be christened at 
 all, and should go all his life without a name, just like 
 some of the racehorses we read about sometimes, that 
 they call the colt by something or other. 
 
 ' We must go, John, that's very certain,' said my 
 wife, ' or else the dear little child will grow up 
 a Dissenter or a Plymouth Brother, or something 
 worse.' 
 
 So, of course, we went, and a gay time we had of it 
 the week we was there. 
 
 'Well, dear father and mother, you couldn't have 
 come at a better time to see me,' said our Polly, as we 
 sat at tea the evening we got there, all as merry as 
 crickets and talking all of us sixteen to the dozen. 
 ' You couldn't have come at a better time,' says she, 
 ' could they, Tom ? for there's going to be a race the 
 day after to-morrow between a lot of the farmers here, 
 all friends of Tom's, and over our farm, too, for a prize, 
 the like of which I don't believe has ever been heard ^ 
 of before. Guess what it is, father !' exclaimed Polly. 
 ' But there, you'll never guess if you tried for a week, so 
 I'll tell you what it is. A wife, father ! Just think of 
 it ! A wife !' And Polly clapped her hands together 
 with glee at the bare notion. 
 
 ' A wife !' we both exclaimed in astonishment, ' why, 
 you can't mean it, Polly, sure-lie ?' 
 
 * Indeed I do though, father,' replied she. ' Just wait 
 
A RACE FOR A WIFE 211 
 
 a minute whilst I pour out some tea, and Fll tell you 
 all about it.' 
 
 Well, it appeared by Polly's account that there was 
 a young girl in these parts, one of the prettiest young 
 girls that ever was seen, so much so that all the young 
 chaps in the neighbourhood was all in love with her, all 
 at once, ^and was a-quarrelling and fighting amongst 
 themselves which was to have her in a way as you'd 
 scarcely believe. Not that it was so very extraordinary 
 after all, for, as I remarked to Polly at the time, I well 
 remembered getting more than one broken head whilst 
 I was courting her dear mother. But that's neither 
 here nor there. 
 
 Nelly Roberts — that was the name of this little 
 friend of our Polly's — it appears, had a head on her 
 shoulders as well as a pretty face, and being tired of 
 all the squabbling and bickering that was going on 
 amongst all her admirers (though between you and me, 
 gentlemen, I dare say she approved of it all in her 
 heart of hearts — they all of ""em do, bless you ! if you 
 only knew), hit upon a dodge at last to put an end to 
 it all that I think, whatever you do, was as clever a one 
 as ever was heard of. It was nothing more than this. 
 She was a great horsewoman, I must tell you, and used 
 to break all her father's young horses for him. A five- 
 year-old, so they told me, that had carried Nelly 
 Roberts, even in a quick thing or two, was always worth 
 his three hundred. 
 
 So one fine day she up and says, says she : ' Look 
 here ! The man that wants to marry me must be able 
 to ride better than his fellows, or I'm blessed if I have 
 anything to say to him.' (I don't say that she put 
 
 14—2 
 
212 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 it in those exact words, but that was her meaning, 
 any way.) 
 
 So says she : ' Supposing you all have a steeplechase, 
 four miles and a half over a fair hunting country, point 
 to point, and the man that comes in first shall take me 
 to church as soon as he likes/ 
 
 Lord bless ye ! they all of 'em rose at the idea, just 
 like so many trout at a fly, and the affair getting wind, 
 their was such excitement over it as you never heard of 
 in all your born days. 
 
 Directly Lord Beaupre, the nobleman as kept the 
 hounds (Nelly's father, I must tell you, rented one of his 
 largest farms), heard of it, he rode over specially to see 
 her, and not only promised her that he would send his 
 huntsman and whippers-in to keep the course, but 
 announced his intention of providing lunch for all 
 comer&, and, what was best of all, giving a fifty-guinea 
 cup to the winner of the steeplechase — make a regular 
 county affair of it, in fact. Oh, he was a good sort 
 was Lord Beaupre, gentlemen, and here's his jolly good 
 health and wishing there was a few more like him in 
 the country ! The very next day was the christening, 
 and amongst the guests invited was this very Nelly 
 Roberts whose name was in everybody's mouth just 
 then, on account of the steeplechase which was to 
 come off the day following. And a nice, bright, 
 pretty young thing she was, too, as ever I saw in 
 my life. She and me were quite old friends before we 
 had known each other half an hour. And her old 
 father, quite one of the right sort, too, I can tell you — 
 a man after my own heart, in fact, altogether. I very 
 soon found out we had tastes in common, and both of 
 
A RACE FOR A WIFE 213 
 
 us, I fear, liked a bit of coursin' and huntin' better than 
 the farm. Well, pretty Nelly got a nice lot of chaff at 
 dinner that day, you may depend, and right well she 
 stood it, too ; always had an answer ready, bless you ! 
 
 ' And who do you think will win to-morrow, Nelly ?' 
 inquired my daughter Polly. ' Who do you hope will 
 win ?' I heard her add in a whisper, the cunning young 
 hussy ! 
 
 ' Well, I fancy Frank Selby myself,' replied Nelly, try- 
 ing to look calm and self-possessed, but blushing as red 
 as a rose all the same. ' He's the best horseman of the 
 lot,' says she, ' and, what is more, will be better mounted 
 than the rest. Kate Kearney, that chestnut five-year-old 
 of his that he bred and is going to ride, father says is 
 quite the best in these parts — don't you, father.? Frank 
 could have sold her the last day the hounds were out, 
 but he wanted to keep her specially for the race to- 
 morrow. Yes,' said Nelly absently, as if talking to 
 herself, and heaving a sigh, ' I hope Frank will win.' 
 
 There was a general nudging of elbows and an inter- 
 change of significant looks amongst the company at the 
 remark, and poor little Nelly, suddenly alive to the fact 
 that she was the cause of merriment, blushed away, until 
 her cheeks were more the colour of a red, red rose than 
 ever. 
 
 Oh, we didn't spare her, I can tell you, and, upon my 
 word ! if I don't think she was downright glad when the 
 time came for her to go. 
 
 ' One thing is very certain,' said she, firing up and 
 addressing her father, who had been chaffing her more 
 than any of us, ' and that is, if Frank don't win, your 
 friend old Mr. Sharp won't.' 
 
214 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 Old Mr. Sharp, I was informed afterwards, being the 
 best-off farmer in that part of the county and one of 
 Nelly's most ardent admirers, had in consequence been 
 encouraged in his suit by old Roberts, who would have 
 liked such a rich son-in-law for his girl despite his age, 
 and was, in fact, much put about because she would have 
 nothing to say to him. 
 
 ' I will bet any amount of gloves against the silly old 
 man !"* she exclaimed defiantly. 
 
 ' Oh, don't you be too sure, Nelly,' replied her father ; 
 ' though he's close on sixty years of age, old George's 
 nerve is just as good as ever it was, and, what is more, 
 let me tell you he knows more about steeplechase 
 riding than Frank Selby or any of 'em. Why, they 
 tell me the way he went in that fast thing after my 
 lord's hounds soon after Christmas, from Goodman's 
 Gorse, was perfectly astonishing ! No, no ; don't you 
 count your chickens before they're hatched. If I don't 
 see old George and his grey horse in front when they 
 come to the last fence from home, I shall be very much 
 surprised, and that's all about it.' 
 
 ' Horrid old man !' exclaimed my daughter Polly, 
 alluding to the absent Mr. Sharp, when Mr. Roberts 
 and his daughter had departed. ' I only hope he'll fall 
 and break his nasty old neck. Just fancy if he won 
 and poor little Nelly had to marry him ! Oh, it would 
 be too dreadful !' 
 
 ' Indeed it would be a shame !' exclaimed another 
 sympathizing young lady present. 
 
 In fact, we all agreed that it was absurd to think for 
 a moment of such a contingency. If poor old George 
 Sharp could have heard the things we said about him, 
 
A RACE FOR A WIFE 215 
 
 not only would his ears have tingled, but I think he'd 
 have felt fit to go and hang himself. We talked of 
 nothing but of the race that night, you may be sure, 
 and before we went to bed we had all made up our 
 minds — at all events, the women had — that it must be 
 won by Frank Selby and no one else. 
 
 ' And, dear heart alive !' exclaimed my girl Polly, as 
 she took her candle to go to bed, ' what a handsome 
 couple Frank and Nelly will make, to be sure !' 
 
 Well, the next morning broke bright and fine, and 
 the house was astir earlier than usual, for, as I think I 
 told you, gentlemen, the ' Race for a Wife ' was to take 
 place over part of my son-in-law's farm, and that meant 
 plenty of company during the day, as you may imagine. 
 Company ! There was some company, I can tell you. 
 I never saw such a lot of people got together in my life 
 for a county affair. Not only farmers and such like, 
 either, but quality folk as well. The noble master, 
 in fact, had helped to choose the ground himself, and 
 was one of the first arrivals on to the course, and a fine 
 company of ladies and gentlemen he brought with him, 
 too, on his coach. 
 
 Oh, but he's one of the right sort, is my lord ! 
 ' We're all coming in to ask you to give us a cup o' tea 
 after the race, Mrs. Rooster,' he calls out to my 
 daughter Polly, as, spying her out, he takes off his hat 
 to her just as if she was a duchess. The race of the 
 day was set for three o'clock, but as early as eleven the 
 county folks began to put in an appearance. There 
 were two other races and a match, however, before the 
 great event, so that they had plenty to amuse them 
 between whiles. To keep up the excitement, too, there 
 
216 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 was a fight or so in the course of the morning, and finally 
 they got hold of two of those ' three-card chaps ' — you 
 know the sort I mean, I dare say, gentlemen — and 
 soused ""em in the horse-pond in the corner of the field, 
 until the poor devils were half drowned. Such a sight 
 as they were when they came out you never saw, for the 
 pond was quite covered with duckweed and very muddy. 
 Three o'clock came at last, and tolerably up to time 
 the ten competitors for my lord's silver cup and the 
 hand of pretty Nelly Roberts got weighed out (the 
 weighing took place in my son-in-law's barn, and the 
 j udge's box was one of his waggons, so you may see the 
 arrangements were quite homely like) — thirteen stun 
 each of 'em had to carry — and, getting on their horses, 
 proceeded to the starting-point, led by his lordship, who 
 was to start 'em. They had to make the best of their 
 way to Little Marley Church, then turn, and make 
 for home, finishing in the same field they started 
 from. 
 
 They were all young chaps, with the exception of old 
 George Sharp, and a good-looking lot as ever you saw, 
 and got up in their sprucest clothes, you may depend. 
 
 They were admirably mounted, too, especially Frank 
 Selby, whose beautiful mare excited the admiration of 
 everybody on the course. 
 
 To my mind, though, the most business-like-looking 
 of all of them was old Mr. Sharp. The way he sat his 
 horse — an old-fashioned-looking grey, with a goose 
 rump and just about the best shoulders you ever saw 
 — and his self-possessed, confident manner, so diff'erent 
 to the flurried, excited appearance the other nine wore, 
 impressed me very favourably with his chance. 
 
A RACE FOR A WIFE 217 
 
 ' If I was betting,' thought I, ' you'd be the one I 
 should back."* 
 
 And, as luck would have it, a mounted gentleman at 
 that moment offering Mr. Sharp in my hearing thirty 
 to five against his winning, which the old gentleman 
 promptly took, I approached the amateur bookmaker 
 on my own account, and inquired if he was inclined to 
 go on at the price. 
 
 ' Yes, I don't mind,' replied he ; * just to another 
 fiver.' 
 
 ' Done with you, then,' said I, booking the bet. 
 
 In another minute my lord had started them, and 
 away they went at a great pace, Frank Selby making 
 the running and the veteran waiting on the lot of 
 them. 
 
 My son-in-law's farm lay high, so that we could see 
 them some distance ; then they disappeared from our 
 view for a bit, and the excitement was simply tre- 
 mendous until they came into sight again. When they 
 did appear, there were only four of them in it, foremost 
 among the quartette being Frank Selby and that horrid 
 old wretch on his grey, as my daughter called poor old 
 Sharp, both going strong and well, the latter especially, 
 I thought. 
 
 Three fences from home down came two of them, the 
 horse of one of them not rising. Cries go up from the 
 crowd that it is Charlie Robinson and Ned Brown of 
 the Lea who have fallen. 
 
 ' Ned's hurt, too, I reckon,' says someone, as the rider 
 in question is seen sitting on the grass, leaning his head 
 in his hand. 
 
 But everybody is too engrossed with the finish to take 
 
218 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 much heed of the fallen, and as the old man on the 
 grey and the young one on the chestnut are seen 
 approaching the last fence, neck and neck, everybody 
 holds his or her breath. Up they both rise in the air, 
 their stirrup-irons almost touching, if not quite, and 
 both land safe and sound. 
 
 Then came the final tussle, and a rare tussle it was. 
 IVe seen a goodish many dead-heats in my time, gentle- 
 men — Buckstone and Tim Whiffler, Moslem and For- 
 mosa, Harvester and St. Gatien — but never — no, never 
 did I ever see such excitement over a dead-heat as 
 this, for that was how this particular race ended. 
 
 The pair fought every inch of ground from the last 
 fence to the winning-post — or, rather, waggon — their 
 two jockeys simply riding like demons, the crowd 
 encouraging them with deafening shouts of ' The grey 
 wins !' ' No, the mare — the mare !"* ' Ifs the old man, 
 I tell ee !' * I says it's young Frank !' You never heard 
 such a row. 
 
 According to my judgment Frank ought to have won, 
 and I am certain nothing but old George Sharp's 
 patient riding and splendid finish brought him where 
 he was. At all events, my lord said he could not 
 separate them, and no one disputed his verdict of a 
 dead-heat — in fact, his decision met with a general 
 approval, especially amongst the yokels, they fully 
 expecting that they would have the pleasure of looking 
 on at another race between the pair. 
 
 To run it over again that day was, of course, out of 
 the question. Meanwhile, everybody followed the two 
 horses and their riders to the barn to weigh in and to 
 hear what decision the two intended to come to. I 
 
A RACE FOR A WIFE 219 
 
 followed my son-in-law in, as I was curious as any of 
 'em, bless you ! They got into the scale— the old man 
 first and George after him. ' All right " in each case. 
 
 ' And now,' said my lord, who was there superintend- 
 ing everything, glancing, with a twinkle in his eye, at 
 poor little Nelly Roberts, who was standing there as 
 pale as death, looking ready to faint, and leaning on 
 my girl Polly's arm, she herself being pretty nigh as 
 white about the gills as her friend — 'and now, what 
 are you two fellows going to do ? You can't both 
 marry the lady, that's clear. Are you going to have it 
 all over again, or what ?"" 
 
 Old George Sharp glanced at young Frank Selby, and 
 young Frank Selby glanced at old George Sharp. 
 
 ' You settle which way 'tis to be, then, Mr. Sharp,' 
 says Frank, looking sheepish. ' You are the oldest. I 
 leave it to you.' 
 
 ' You'll leave it to me, will you, lad ?' said old 
 George, squaring his shoulders, and speaking up like a 
 man. ' Then this is what I propose, and if my lord 
 approves of it, so it shall be : As his lordship says, we 
 can't both marry pretty Nelly there, and we can't cut 
 her in two like King Solomon proposed to do the 
 babby when its ma came and asked him to arbitrate 
 between her and another lady. So,' said old George, 
 raising his voice so that everybody should hear, ' what 
 I propose is this : You shall have Nelly, and Fll take 
 the cup. What say you .?' 
 
 Oh, you should have heard the cheers that greeted 
 the old man's speech ! I thought the old barn would 
 have come down, they made such a row. There was 
 my girl Polly, who two minutes before had been 
 
220 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 abusing the old man like a pickpocket, hugging him 
 round the neck until he was nearly throttled ; there 
 was Nelly doing ditto to Frank. Everybody was 
 shaking hands with everybody else ; the women were 
 all crying, of course, and I 
 
 Well, I had been doing a bit in the shouting line 
 myself, and was that thirsty I didn't know what to do, 
 so I made tracks into the house, and it was a good long 
 draught that I took before I put down the tankard of 
 ale that I found on the sideboard, you may depend. 
 
 I think old George Sharp behaved like a trump, 
 don't you, gentlemen ? 
 
 But I fancy, you know, that if it had been me, I 
 should have wanted another ride before giving up such 
 a pretty girl as Nelly Roberts. However, everyone 
 knows his own business best, and it is to be presumed 
 Mr. Sharp knew his. He was old enough, anyhow. 
 
 The joke of it was that the gentleman who laid me 
 the bet against the grey came over to my son-in-law's 
 farm the next day on purpose to pay me, and when my 
 girl Polly heard that I had been and gone and backed 
 old George's mount, what do you think she said ? 
 Why, that I ought to be thoroughly well ashamed of 
 myself ! Just like a woman, wasn't it ? 
 
BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON 
 
 THE SUPERINTENDENT'S STORY 
 
 No need to ask who the stalwart specimen of humanity 
 is who walks into the club-room one Saturday night, and 
 after exchanging greetings of a cordial description with 
 the assembled company, and calling for a pipe and a 
 glass of something comfortable — for it is a bitter cold 
 night — takes a chair at the long table with the air of 
 a man who, having done a good day's work, feels 
 thoroughly justified in going in for a little mild dis- 
 sipation. 
 
 The uniform he wears is that of one high in office in 
 the police force, and the members of the Horse-shoe 
 Club address him as Mr. Brown. In short, he is Chief 
 Superintendent of Police for the town of Barley ford ; 
 very much respected, so I was informed, and I should 
 say, judging by the cordial greeting he received on his 
 entry into the club-room, a very popular character as 
 well. 
 
 He was a fine, soldierly-looking man, with a face that 
 would have been decidedly handsome but for a hideous 
 scar that extended from eye to chin right down one 
 
S22 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 side of his face. I could not help mentioning this 
 to Bob Magnum, by whose side, as usual, I was 
 seated. 
 
 ' Ah,' replied Bob, with the air of a connoisseur in 
 such matters, ' it is an ugly mark, ain't it ? However, 
 the inspector had his revenge on the chap that gave it 
 to him, and not so very long ago, neither. It's quite 
 a story, it is, and, what's more, Mr. Brown shall tell it 
 this very evening, or my name ain't Bob Magnum. As 
 to that, between you and me and the post, sir,' 
 whispered Bob, 'he don't want much pressin', for we 
 all know " revenge is sweet," and in this case it was 
 especially so.' 
 
 True to his word, later on in the evening Bob 
 Magnum, in his capacity of chairman, called on Mr. 
 Brown for a song or story, and the worthy inspector, 
 expressing his willingness to oblige, commenced forth- 
 with the following narrative : 
 
 I dare say, gentlemen, said the inspector, you may 
 some of you have noticed this cicatrice that I have got 
 to wear for life all down one side of my face. The 
 party that left his mark upon me, you will be happy to 
 hear, gentlemen, will never get a chance of doing the 
 like again either to me or anybody else — that is, unless 
 he manages to break out of Portland some fine night, 
 and I don't think that's very likely — for at this present 
 time he is undergoing his sentence of penal servitude for 
 life — a sentence which I am proud to say I was the means 
 of his obtaining. If you will allow me, I will tell you 
 all about it from beginning to end, commencing from 
 when I became the possessor of the bit of ornamenta- 
 
BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON 223 
 
 tion you see here (the inspector pointed with his finger 
 as he spoke to the mark upon his face). 
 
 It was just after I joined the force, some sixteen 
 years ago, and I was the one policeman allotted to the 
 little village of Cloverly in this county. I am not 
 aware, gentlemen, if any of you know the place, but if 
 you don't, I can only say ifs the quietest spot you 
 ever came near. Nobody ever went wrong in Cloverly, 
 bless you ! from one years end to the other. Oh, they 
 were a respectable lot ! It was pleasant enough in some 
 respects, I am bound to admit, and as the place was 
 a sinecure, as you might say, as far as hard work was 
 concerned, and I had a young and pretty wife, a family 
 cropping up around me, and a snug cottage to live in, 
 with a nice bit of garden attached to it, I dare say you 
 will say I had no cause for grumbling. I was not idle 
 either, for I did a very fair little business in the bird- 
 stuffing line round about, I having, when a boy, been 
 apprenticed to a bird-stufFer and learned the trade. 
 If anybody, from the Squire downwards, ever wanted 
 a bird or a dog or a pet of any sort preserved, I was 
 always given the job, you may depend. Not only that, 
 but I had a few fancy fowls, and made a good deal of 
 money in that way of business. 
 
 With all these advantages, you'll say I ought to have 
 been happy and contented. But I was not, gentlemen, 
 for all that. Til tell you why : I was ambitious ; 
 that's where it was — I was ambitious. I longed to 
 distinguish myself in my professional calling. But if 
 nobody would go wrong, how could I ? 
 
 ' Oh, Mary,' I used to say to my wife sometimes — 
 ' oh, Mary, how I wish there would be a jolly good 
 
224 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 murder down in these parts, just to give a chap a 
 chance, like !"* 
 
 ' Robert,' she would reply, ' Fm ashamed of you ! I 
 call it downright sinful to talk like that ! Whatever 
 would Mr. Simpson (that was our Vicar, gentlemen) say 
 if he heard you ?' 
 
 Well, I had been some five years at Cloverly, and 
 there I was getting as fat as a pig from sheer contented- 
 ness, I verily believe. I don't think anybody but the 
 most irritable man in existence could have been any- 
 thing but fat living the lazy life I did. 
 
 Youll hardly believe it, gentlemen, but during all 
 those five years I only arrested two people. One was a 
 tramp for going to sleep in Farmer Binfi eld's bam and 
 nearly setting it alight with his pipe, and the other was 
 a little boy of eight years old for stealing turnips. 
 
 Lord ! how everybody laughed as I led the poor little 
 chap, blubbering with all his might, you may depend, 
 through the village ! 
 
 ' Shame !' cried the women (including my wife, if you 
 please). 
 
 'Put the handcuffs on the desperate young willin, 
 Mr. Brown, or he might murder you,' sung out young 
 Frank Simcox, of Crabtree Farm, the sauciest young 
 chap in those parts, getting what he wanted — a general 
 laugh from the villagers at his silly chaff. 
 
 Then one began and then another. Oh, I was that 
 wild at last I didn't know what to do, I can tell 
 you! 
 
 Well, gentlemen, one hot summer afternoon I had 
 been grumbling to my wife most tremendous over my 
 enforced inactivity ; she, good soul ! unknowingly making 
 
BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON 225 
 
 me worse instead of better by telling me in reply that 
 I ought to be glad instead of repining that there was 
 such an absence of crime in the district, and such-like 
 nonsense, until at last I remarked savagely that, unless 
 something turned up soon to enable me to distinguish 
 myself, I had made up my mind to apply for other 
 quarters. 
 
 ' What ! You would give up your happy home and 
 peaceful life merely because there are not enough wicked 
 people already in the world ? Oh, Robert, you can't 
 mean it ! Say you don't mean it !' exclaimed my wife 
 in tears. 
 
 ' I do mean it, though,' I replied sternly. ' Mark my 
 words, Mary, my dear, Fll give you a week from now, 
 and if nothing of an exciting nature turns up within 
 that time, off I go from this dead-alive hole — you just 
 see if I don't !' 
 
 And with that I went indoors for my usual afternoon 
 nap before I started on my rounds at night. 
 
 I had my sleep — dreaming in the course of it, I recol- 
 lect, that I had captured five burglars single-handed, and 
 was promoted in consequence — and about nine o'clock 
 donned my uniform as usual and sallied forth for my 
 uneventful prowl. It was the end of July, and a great 
 many of the gentlefolk round about were away : some 
 at the sea, others gone abroad, and so on. Of course, I 
 went through the usual farce of marching round their 
 premises. Sir John Ricketts' place, all right as usual ; 
 Major Plumper's, w^here I found the servants having a 
 little dance amongst themselves on the lawn, the foot- 
 man playing a polka on the concertina for them to 
 foot it to. I joined in for half an hour, I remember, 
 
 15 
 
226 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 and enjoyed myself very much, though I found my 
 uniform rather heavy. Three other houses I visited 
 afterwards, and I wound up at Rosebud Cottage, a 
 sweet Httle place on the highroad, belonging to a 
 retired naval officer, old Captain Caulker. I had been 
 specially requested by the Captain to give an eye to his 
 premises of a night during his absence, as his one 
 servant had gone for a holiday, and the house was shut 
 up with no one to look after it. So what was my 
 surprise when I arrived opposite to it, at about half-past 
 eleven o'clock, to see a light burning in one of the 
 downstair rooms. I could see it distinctly through the 
 chinks of the shutters. My heart beat sixteen to the 
 dozen at the sight, I can tell you. ' Burglary, for a 
 hundred V exclaimed I to myself under my breath. 
 ' Bobby, my boy, your opportunity's been a long while 
 coming, but it's come at last !' What to do, was the 
 next thing to think about. The front-door, I could 
 see, was shut close, and as it could only be opened from 
 the inside I knew it was no use my trying to get in that 
 way. My only chance, therefore, was at the back ; and 
 accordingly, having previously taken the precaution of 
 pulling off my boots, away I crept on tip-toe, keeping 
 well on the grass, round to the rear of the house. 
 Hurrah ! the back-door was open. The burglar, it was 
 clear, had entered that way. I knew my way well, for 
 I had been in the house scores of times. There was a 
 green-baize door opening from the back premises into 
 the hall, and having first lit a candle which I found on 
 a ledge by the back-door, I crept softly towards it. It 
 didn't creak, for a wonder, and in another second 1 was 
 in the front-hall, and was confronted directly I got 
 
BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON 227 
 
 there by a stream of light which came from the open 
 door of the Captain's study, which was exactly opposite. 
 
 Crossing the hall on tip-toe, I peeped cautiously in, 
 and there seated in the old officer's huge armchair, and 
 drinking rum from a large case bottle, I beheld one of 
 the ugliest men I ever set eyes on. Not content with a 
 squint, his nose had been at some time or another 
 knocked right on one side, giving him a most strange 
 appearance. He was in the act of lifting the case bottle 
 to his lips, when his eyes suddenly caught mine. He 
 was evidently a man of action, for in a second he had 
 hurled the heavy decanter full at my head, which it 
 luckily missed, and went smash into a large case full 
 of stuffed birds — in fact, a case I myself had set up for 
 the Captain. In another second I was upon him. Un- 
 fortunately a chair got in my way, and before I could 
 recover myself the burglar had snatched an old naval 
 cutlass from the wall, and as I made my grab at him, 
 caught me the slash down my face you now see the 
 remains of. I was deluged with blood, as you may 
 imagine, and faint into the bargain, and I can just 
 remember dashing the blood from my eyes in time to 
 see the burglar bolting from the room. As he dis- 
 appeared, a faintness came over my senses, and I fell all 
 of a heap on to the floor. 
 
 I did not come to for some hours afterwards, and a 
 nice state I was in, I can tell you, and so was the room. 
 The first thing I observed was the smashed case of 
 stuffed birds. The heavy bottle had knocked an owl off 
 his perch, and was lying alongside of him at the bottom 
 of the case. Luckily all the rum had not escaped, so I 
 took the liberty of taking a pull, and a great deal of 
 
 15—2 
 
228 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 good it did me. I staggered out to the front-door 
 directly afterwards, and as some labourers I knew 
 were passing by on their way to work (for it was just 
 five o'^clock), I called them in, and between us we put 
 the things a bit straight, and then, locking the back- 
 door, went out at the front. One of them I got to 
 help me back into Cloverly, for I still felt very faint. 
 
 Of course, the man got clear off, and though the 
 Captain, who was immediately telegraphed for, offered 
 a handsome reward, he was never taken. Meanwhile I 
 got great praise for my conduct, the resident gentry 
 presenting me with a gold watch and chain as a reward 
 for what they were pleased to call my vigilance and 
 gallant behaviour, though, as I told them, I was only 
 doing my duty. 
 
 ' We are quite aware of that. Brown,' said Sir John 
 Ricketts, who was spokesman on the occasion, ' and it 
 is to remind you of the fact that we now present you 
 with this little souvenir of the occasion. It is deeds 
 like yours. Brown, that make us all proud of the force 
 you belong to."* 
 
 Oh, they made quite a fuss about this little affair, I 
 can assure you, gentlemen — far more than it deserved, 
 in my humble opinion. 
 
 Well, shortly after, I was promoted to the rank of 
 sergeant and removed to another station — this station, 
 in short, and a pleasant one it is. My constant thought 
 now was. When shall I catch a sight of ' Broken-nose ' 
 again ? The chances were very considerable against 
 that event ; however, I lived in hope. ' And if ever I 
 do get a chance,' I would say to myself as I looked in 
 the glass of a morning, ' if I don't make it warm for you, 
 
BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON 229 
 
 my boy, my name's not Bob Brown. It's lucky Fm 
 married,' thought I, ' for I'm blessed if any girl would 
 look at me with my beauty spoiled like this.' 
 
 However, it was destined that ' Broken-nose ' and I 
 were to meet again, as it happened, and not so very long 
 after, either. And this is how it came about : 
 
 Being now a sergeant, I went my rounds of a night 
 on horseback, my duties being to visit the men under 
 me in the course of the night on their different beats. 
 
 There was, and is now for that matter, a good deal 
 of night poaching in these parts, and the night patrol 
 sometimes, when there is a fracas between the game- 
 keepers and the poachers, if he happen to be on the 
 spot at the right moment, is a very welcome ally — to 
 the former, that is. 
 
 Well, one fine frosty night I was out as usual 
 patrolling the roads. It was about one o'clock in the 
 morning, and I had just parted with one of my men, 
 and was making my way leisurely back to the town, 
 when I heard a succession of shots in the direction of 
 Sir Harry Clayton's big woods adjoining the Ilchester 
 road. 
 
 ' Hullo,' said I to myself, ' they're at it in force to- 
 night, I'm blessed if they're not !' And without more 
 ado I put my horse into a trot and made for the spot 
 as quickly as I could. 
 
 By the time I got to the end of the wood the shots 
 had ceased, but in the stillness of the night I could 
 hear distinctly the barking of dogs and the voices of 
 men evidently in fierce dispute. There was no end of 
 a scrimmage going on, that was very certain. I reined 
 in my horse close under the edge at the corner of the 
 
230 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 wood and listened attentively. They were not a great 
 way off, for I could distinctly hear the blows, and 
 almost the words used, and very soon I could make out 
 that the poachers were leaving the wood in flight, 
 pursued by the keepers, and coming in my direction, 
 too. I loosened my sword in its scabbard and waited, 
 all impatience, for a view of the battle. 
 
 It was a beautiful moonlight night, just the night of 
 all others for shooting pheasants roosting up in the 
 trees. By-and-by I saw from my hiding-place a man 
 jump over the fence out of the wood, and run across to 
 an adjoining field; then another, and then another, 
 and after him a fourth, who fell ; and then two more — 
 six in all. Next came the keepers. I heard the man 
 on the ground shout to his pals to come to his rescue, 
 and apparently they were not so cowardly as those 
 gentry usually are, for I'm blessed if they did not come 
 back to his assistance. 
 
 As there was a keeper to each man, I thought it wise 
 to keep where I was for the present, at all events, so as 
 to be able to pursue the poachers if any of them took 
 to the road. 
 
 The lot closed — with the exception of one poacher, 
 who stood aloof with his gun in his hand — and a 
 desperate battle ensued. At last it was plain that the 
 keepers were getting the best of it, and I was just going 
 to shout to let them know I was at hand when the 
 man who stood away suddenly fired his gun point-blank 
 at a keeper who, having caught sight of him, was now 
 making for him with a view to capture. The man fell 
 prone to the ground, and as his slayer brought his gun 
 down from his shoulder, and stood for a moment irreso- 
 
BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON 231 
 
 lute, the rays of the moon fell right on his face. By 
 the heavens above us ! it tvas the man with the broken 
 nose ! 
 
 Not a moment did I lose now, you may be sure. I 
 was never much of a horseman, but I shoved my nag 
 without hesitation at the fence out of the road, and 
 scrambled over it somehow, how I don't know, and 
 galloped off after the poacher, who by this time was 
 making his way across country as hard as ever his legs 
 would carry him. 
 
 As I galloped away after him, I drew my sword from 
 its sheath, for I meant mischief if we came to close 
 quarters. 
 
 A large, black-looking bullfinch was in front of us, 
 and for this he was making. 
 
 ' Will he get through ?^ thought I, ' for if he does 
 I'm done, that's certain.' 
 
 But no ; it was too much for him, winded as he was. 
 \Vhen he got to the ditch in front of it he turned at 
 bay, and once more raised his gun. It was a double- 
 barrelled one, and one hammer was down and the other 
 raised. I could see that plainly, for, as I have said, it 
 was almost as bright as day. 
 
 ' Hands up !' shouted I, as I galloped up. 
 
 ' That be damned !' yelled the desperate man in return. 
 ' A step nearer, and Fll shoot you like a dog.' 
 
 I waited no longer, but dashed the spurs in and made 
 for my man. A loud report rang in my ears. I felt 
 the shot rattling all about my helmet. I saw the 
 brute's white face mad with rage and despair as he 
 clubbed his gun to land me a final blow if possible. 
 The next instant my sword descended on his head. 
 
232 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 pretty nearly in the same fashion as the old Captain'^s 
 cutlass came down on mine, in the little study at Rose- 
 bud Cottage years before, and my old enemy lay bleed- 
 ing and insensible on the ground. 
 
 I galloped back for help, and found all the poachers 
 captured, and much knocked about as well. The keepers 
 were also in sorry plight, and, saddest of all, the poor 
 fellow who I had seen fired at — Sir Harry's head-keeper 
 — lay stone-dead, shot through the heart. 
 
 Getting hold of the most able of the keepers, I 
 made the best of my way to where I had left * Broken- 
 nose," and found him lying just where I left him. 
 Having ascertained that he was not dead, as I at first 
 feared, we lifted him bodily on to my horse, and, tying 
 him on somehow, got back to the highroad. Mean- 
 while, assistance came to us from a neighbouring farm- 
 house ; a cart was sent for, and the dead man and my 
 still insensible prisoner put into it and driven off, the 
 former to his desolated home, the latter to the infirmary 
 here. 
 
 Little remains to be told, gentlemen. 'Broken- 
 nose" on his recovery was put on his trial for the 
 wilful murder of the poor gamekeeper, and, notwith- 
 standing that my evidence was damning enough, one 
 would have thought, for anything, and, in addition, the 
 judge summing up dead against him, the jury, who, it 
 is to be presumed, did not approve of game preserving, 
 found the prisoner merely guilty of manslaughter, to 
 the manifest astonishment of everybody in court. 
 
 ' And you may think yourself extremely lucky that 
 the jury have taken such a merciful view of the case," 
 remarked the judge, with, as I thought, a somewhat 
 
BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON 233 
 
 contemptuous glance at those gentry, as he sentenced 
 the prisoner to penal servitude for the term of his 
 natural life. 
 
 And I fancy you will all of you endorse his Lord- 
 ship's opinion, gentlemen, unless I am very much mis- 
 taken ; for if ever a man deserved hanging, that man 
 was my friend ' Broken-nose." 
 
AN APRIL FOOL 
 
 THE HUNTSMAN'S STORY 
 
 A HUNTSMAN is invariably a popular character with the 
 natives — at least, I never yet came across one that was 
 not. Nay, more than that, he is an autocrat in his 
 way. He is looked up to, in fact, as a sort of superior 
 being whose word is ' law," not only on matters pertain- 
 ing to the chase and sporting matters generally, but on 
 everything else, such as politics, the condition of the 
 navy — anything, in fact, that happens to interest the 
 public mind at the time. Tom Dalby was no exception 
 to the rule, and was as popular with the farmers and 
 country folk generally as he was with the members of 
 the hunt. That he was a favourite with his brother 
 members of the Horse-shoe Club there could be no 
 manner of doubt, he being welcomed by everyone 
 present in the heartiest manner possible on his entry 
 into the club-room one night soon after the frost set in. 
 Nothing less than a shake of the hand all round, com- 
 mencing with the chairman, would do, and there was 
 quite a keen competition amongst his fellow-members 
 which should be the first to stand the great man a drop 
 of something to drink. 
 
AN APRIL FOOL 235 
 
 A trim, dapper-looking personage was Tom, with a 
 fresh, ruddy-looking, clean-shaved face, and just about 
 the keenest eye you ever saw — a restless, roving eye that 
 seemed to be looking everywhere at once. Needless to 
 say he ' dressed ' the part all over, and looked the hunts- 
 man in mufti every inch of him, from the well-tied, 
 snow-white muslin cravat, to the toes of his perfectly 
 blacked, round-toed boots. 
 
 The worthy huntsman had not long settled down to 
 his cigar and hot gin-and-water before Bob Magnum 
 called on him for a contribution to the evening's 
 amusement. 
 
 ' Look here, Tom,' said he, ' we don't see very much 
 of you during the hunting season, unless, as now, there 
 is a frost, so we don't intend to let you off to-night 
 without a song or a yarn. Gentlemen !' cried Bob, 
 raising his voice, and emphasizing his remarks by a 
 knock on the table with his presidential hammer, ' I 
 call on Tom Dalby for a song or story.' 
 
 There was great applause at this, and it was some 
 time before the huntsman was allowed to speak, owing 
 to the clinking of glasses and the stamping of feet. 
 (I fear the members of the Club were a noisy lot on the 
 whole.) 
 
 ' Hold hard, gentlemen,' said Tom, holding up his 
 hand just as if he were addressing a too impetuous field 
 at a check — ' hold hard, whilst I make my cast, if you 
 please. I don't know,' continued he, ' whether any of 
 the company here have ever been made an April fool 
 of. It's a silly practice, to my thinking, only fit 
 for school-girls and such-like. Anyhow, I was made 
 a fool of, one first of April, not many years ago. 
 
236 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 and with your kind permission I will tell you all 
 about it.' 
 
 Tom accordingly, without any more ado, proceeded 
 to relate the following experience : 
 
 I never keep no account of any particular day in 
 the year except, perhaps, it is the first of November, 
 which is our first day of fox-hunting, being the one 
 in my calendar I set most store by, as is only natural. 
 Accordingly, some four years ago, when the first of 
 April, known to a lot of silly people as All Fools' 
 Day (and I may here remark a very good name too), 
 came round as usual, I had forgotten all about it, 
 so that when I was woke up at five o'clock in the 
 morning by a great knocking at my bedroom door, and 
 on inquiring what was the matter, I was answered by a 
 pretty, good-for-nothing niece, who was just then on a 
 visit to us, that the feeder had come up to say that I 
 was wanted immediately in the kennel, because Daffodil 
 and Dairymaid, two of the very best hounds in the 
 pack, and especial favourites with my lord, had been 
 taken with hydrophobia, I never for one minute sus- 
 pected it was a hoax ; but without hesitating a second, 
 jumped out of bed, and hastily clapping on a pair of 
 trousers, snatched up a hunting-whip, and bolted off as 
 hard as ever I could pelt, with my heart in my mouth, 
 to look after my two sick hounds, fully expecting when 
 I got there to have to send for my gun to destroy the 
 poor things there and then, to prevent the mischief 
 spreading to the rest of the pack, and wondering as I 
 ran along whether any of the other hounds had been 
 bitten. 
 
AN APRIL FOOL 237 
 
 Old Sam Grimley, the feeder, as dry an old stick as 
 ever drew breath, was there as usual plodding about in 
 his accustomed methodical fashion, and you should just 
 have seen his face when I inquired after the two hounds. 
 He stared at me open-mouthed for a full minute, and 
 then for the first time since I had known him (and that 
 was getting on for twenty years) broke into a regular 
 horse laugh. 
 
 ' Hydrophoby be danged T exclaimed he. ' The 
 blessed hounds be all as well as you be ! Why,' con- 
 tinued the old man, his little bloodshot eyes twinkling 
 with memment as he gazed at my scantily attired 
 figure, 'them women must ha' been makin' what's 
 called a " Hapril fool " on 'ee, master !' 
 
 And muttering and chuckling to himself, the old 
 sinner turned his quid in his cheek, and betook himself 
 to the boiling-house, as much as to say it was waste 
 of time talking to anyone so devoid of intelligence as 
 I was. 
 
 And sure enough the old man had hit the right nail 
 on the head, as I soon found out, for on my returning 
 to the house, desperately angry, as you may imagine, 
 there was my little good-for-nothing vixen of a niece 
 standing at the front-door as bold as brass, holding her 
 sides, and laughing fit to kill herself at having made an 
 April fool of poor old Uncle Tom, as she called me, the 
 deceitful young hussy ! It was really too bad, and I 
 both felt and looked exceedingly annoyed at being made 
 look so small before the servant girl, to say nothing 
 of the whips and helpers. I put on my most severe 
 expression, indeed, for Miss Saucy 's express benefit ; 
 but, Lor' bless ye ! it had about as much effect as a 
 
238 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 hunting-whip would have on a rhinoceros's hide. The 
 audacious hussy actually laughed ten times louder than 
 ever, and putting her arms round my neck, and kissing 
 me, called me a dear old April fool, and declared she 
 wouldn't leave go until I kissed her back, and said I 
 was sorry for having looked so cross. And you'll 
 scarcely believe it, gentlemen, but I actually did it, too 
 (I always was so gallus soft with women, especially 
 when they're pretty ones, remarked Tom apologeti- 
 cally). Having made it up with my mischievous niece, 
 I bade her send me up some hot water and order break- 
 fast to be got ready in half an hour — it was still early, 
 but I can't abear waiting for my breakfast — and then 
 went upstairs to my room to make myself decent. 
 
 Up came the shaving water, the girl grinning double 
 as she put it down, at the idea of master being so easily 
 taken in, I presume — I had half a mind to have boxed 
 her ears. 
 
 Whilst I shaved I had the pleasure of hearing my 
 frolicsome niece (who was evidently determined to make 
 the most of All Fools' Day) calling Crib, the terrier, 
 whom she had lured into a cupboard under false pre- 
 tences by pretending there was a rat there, an April fool. 
 I felt sorry for the poor dog, so much so that I couldn't 
 resist calling out, ' Bite her, Crib ! Bite her, boy !' In 
 another second I was cursing the first of April harder 
 than ever, for in the excitement of the moment my 
 razor slipped, and gave me a tremendous gash in the 
 chin, so much so that I bled like a pig, and had to 
 shout out to the missus for some nap off my best Sunday 
 hat to stop the flow of blood. Lord, how I did go on, 
 to be sure ! 
 
AN APRIL FOOL 239 
 
 Then when I had stopped it as I thought, the bleed- 
 ing broke out afresh, and spoilt the white neckcloth I 
 had just tied so elaborately. I had to tear it off and 
 put on another. It was a lawn meet too, that day, and 
 I, of course, wanted to look smarter than usual if 
 possible. 
 
 At last I came downstairs and, upon my word, if it 
 didn't seem the silly season with everybody. The 
 kidneys were done to a cinder, the eggs weren't boiled, 
 and my spurs, usually like silver, were disgraceful. 
 
 I stormed, my niece laughed, and the missus snivelled. 
 
 At last I could stand it no longer, so I jumped up, 
 got my gloves and cap and whip, and off I went, and 
 the men being ready and waiting, I mounted my horse, 
 the glad hounds were let out, and away we went. I was 
 just congratulating myself that I was well away from 
 the women and their silly ways when, if you'll believe 
 it, I'm blessed if the horse I was on didn't suddenly fall 
 as lame as a tree. 
 
 I had to get off and send my second horseman back 
 for another, whilst I got on his. You can imagine 
 what a heavenly temper I was in by the time I arrived 
 at the meet, gentlemen. I should have liked to have 
 got off and had a round with somebody, that I should. 
 Even at the meet they couldn't leave me alone. There 
 had been a ball overnight at the house in front of which 
 we met, and a big champagne breakfast was in full 
 swing when me and the hounds arrived. Champagne 
 is rare stuff for making people merry, and a lot of the 
 young sparks, who had filled their skins with the spark- 
 ling wine, were just ready for a bit of fun. I really 
 believe they'd have chaffed the Archbishop of Canter- 
 
240 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 bury if he'd been there. So you may imagine they 
 weren't very particular what they said to me, though I 
 can't help expressing my opinion, gentlemen, that a 
 certain amount of respect is due to a huntsman. 
 
 Well, it looked really as if they were all aware of 
 the fact that I had got out of bed that morning the 
 wrong side. Fm blessed if they didn't all make a dead 
 set at me ! You never heard such a lot of silly chaff 
 and nonsense as went on in all your born days. 
 
 ' Tom's cut himself shaving this morning, b' Jove !' 
 sings out one, pointing with his hunting-whip to the 
 piece of black sticking-plaster on my chin ; ' look at 
 him ! he only wants his hair poicdre^ and he'd look 
 quite like a good-looking young woman at a fancy 
 ball.' 
 
 ' So he does,' says another. ' Tom, you old ra.scal ! 
 you were screwed last night, I know, weren't you now .? 
 No wonder your hand shook.' 
 
 ' Never mind him,' says young Sir Charles Larkins ; 
 ' have a pick-me-up, Tom. What'll you have — cham- 
 pagne, sherry, cura^oa, brandy or what ? Only give it 
 a name.' 
 
 ' Thankee kindly, Sir Charles,' says I. ' I'll take a 
 glass of cura(^'oa.' (I'm particularly partial to cura^oa, 
 gentlemen.) 
 
 ' Very good,' says the young baronet. ' There's some 
 prime stuff here. I'll send you some out.' 
 
 In he goes into the house, and a minute or two after 
 out comes a footman with a bottle and glasses, and 
 pours me out a drop. 
 
 ' But this ain't cura^oa !' exclaimed I, eyeing the stuff 
 very hard. ' Why, it's white !' 
 
AN APRIL FOOL 241 
 
 ' Of course it is," says Sir Charles, who was looking 
 on. 'It's white cura9oa, and first-rate tackle too, 
 especially when youVe chippy ; much better than brown, 
 and so you'll say, Tom, when it's trickling down your 
 gullet; 
 
 So I tipped it off at a gulp, as I usually do anything 
 short like that. And as I did so, Sir Charles and all 
 of 'em, including the footman, burst into a roar of 
 laughter. It was water ! 
 
 ' Oh, you April fool !' they all shouted, as pleased 
 as Punch at having done me brown, as they called 
 it. 
 
 Yes, there I was, gentlemen, actually made an April 
 fool for the second time that morning. Too bad, that 
 it was ! 
 
 I wasn't going to be done out of my drink though, 
 and accordingly the footman was sent for some of the 
 real article — brown this time — and very good it was ; 
 so good I remember that I wetted both eyes. Lor' 
 bless you, I could have ridden over anything after it ! 
 not, you understand, that I'm one of those who require 
 jumping - powder to make him go. Oh dear no ; I 
 only mean to say that the influence of the good stuff 
 made me feel more lively and venturesome than usual — 
 I hardly know really how to express it. 
 
 Well, by-and-by out came my lord, and the company 
 having had a good look at the hounds, the order was at 
 length given for a start, and accordingly away we all 
 trotted across the park to draw the home wood, I 
 congratulating myself as we Avent along that I had done 
 with April fools and such-like nonsense for that day at 
 all events. 
 
 16 
 
242 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 Now, there is an old saying, gentlemen, with which, 
 no doubt, you are all of you well acquainted, which 
 runs : ' Don't count your chickens until they are 
 hatched.' There is another equally old saying, gentle- 
 men, with which, doubtless, you are also familiar, which 
 goes : ' Never holler until you are out of the wood.' 
 
 Both these sayings applied equally to me on this 
 occasion. If anybody had said to me at that moment, 
 as I was cantering across the park with my hounds all 
 round me, that I should have been made an April fool 
 of for the third time that morning, I should not only 
 have called him a fool, but I should have offered to 
 make him a bet of a pound to a brass farthing against 
 it. What is more, if the bet had been accepted I 
 should have lost — I should, indeed. 
 
 I will now tell you, gentlemen, how I was done for 
 the third time that morning. 
 
 We drew the home wood blank, and then trotted off 
 to a smallish covert of perhaps fifteen or sixteen acres 
 or thereabouts. 
 
 I did not much expect to find a fox there, for as a 
 rule we always drew it blank, and on this particular day 
 I thought it less likely for a find than usual ; for, as you 
 are well aware, the woods just about that period of the 
 year are always full of women and children gathering 
 primroses and violets. Well, I popped the hounds in 
 and they proceeded to spread themselves over the wood 
 in a listless sort of manner, as much as to say, ' There's 
 no fox here, Tom ; why this waste of time ?'' when all of 
 a sudden a loud holloa was heard from the right-hand 
 corner of the wood, the same side by which we entered. 
 'Well, that's a curious thing,' thinks I to myself. 'Not 
 
AN APRIL FOOL 243 
 
 a hound gives so much as a whimper as yet, and accord- 
 ing to the sound, the fox, if fox it is, must have gone 
 against the wind ' — rather an unusual thing to do, as you 
 are probably aware, gentlemen. 
 
 ' Oh, it must be a mistake,"* I thought ; ' somebody's 
 seen a hare, and taken it for a fox.' 
 
 But no ; there was the holloa again — a most unmis- 
 takable ' Tally-ho !' too. Losing no more time, I blew 
 my horn, got my hounds round me, and away I went, 
 crashing through the hazel-stems as hard as I could go, 
 to the corner whence the holloa proceeded from, joined 
 on the way by the greater part of the field, who were 
 congregated in the principal ride. I got to the corner 
 and out by a little bridle-gate there was, and was 
 immediately aware of a great red-headed young 
 Chawbacon, standing in the field waving his hat, 
 and shouting ' Tally-ho !' with all his might and 
 main. 
 
 ' Where's he gone, noisy ?' shouted I, riding up to 
 him, followed by the hounds. 
 
 ' Wheer's who gone ?' answered the bumpkin. 
 
 ' Why, the fox, to be sure, stupidhead !' said I, getting 
 impatient. 
 
 ' Vox ! There hain't no vox — at least, not as Oi've 
 seen,' he replied. 
 
 ' Well, but you hollered " Tally-ho !" didn't you ?' said 
 I, my temper rising. ' What did you holloa for if you 
 saw no fox ?' 
 
 ' What did Oi 'oiler vor ?' replied Chawbacon, grin- 
 ning from ear to ear, until he showed every tooth in 
 his head. ' Whoy, to make a April vool of yer, to be 
 shure ! This be the vurst of April, this be !' 
 
 16—2 
 
244 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 I was so staggered for the moment, gentlemen, that 
 I could scarcely speak, and sat on my horse staring at 
 the bumpkin like one bereft of his senses. 
 
 The roar of laughter, however, that went up from 
 the gentlemen standing round roused me, and gathering 
 up the thong of my whip, I went for my persecutor. 
 
 Away he bolted across the field, and me after him. 
 Lord ! how I flogged him ! You should have heard 
 him bellow — just for all the world like a young bull. 
 
 It was a longish run to the gate at the end of the 
 field, and by the time my friend had got there he was 
 pretty well done, so much so that when he tried to 
 climb over the gate he stuck on the top, a position 
 peculiarly favourable for the use of my hunting-whip, 
 and of which I took every advantage, you may depend. 
 I don't think a ploughboy or anybody else ever got a 
 better horsewhipping than this chap did. 
 
 At last he toppled over the other side out of my 
 reach, and lay on the ground, bellowing ' Murder !' loud 
 enough to frighten all the birds away from the covert, 
 if nothing else. I gave him a little language appro- 
 priate to the occasion (quite a Commination Service, as 
 Parson Merrythought observed), and then turned my 
 horse round to rejoin the hounds, feeling very much 
 better. The amount of vinegar and brown paper that 
 poor chap must have used ! Gentlemen, it makes me 
 quite sad when I think of it. One thing is very certain : 
 I don't think Master Chawbacon is likely to try and 
 make an April fool of anyone for some time to come — ^ 
 certainly not a huntsman. 
 
A HOLIDAY ADVENTURE 
 
 THE DETECTIVE'S STORY 
 
 There was no better known or more popular tradesman 
 in the town of Barley ford than Tommy Clippum, as he 
 was always called, the sporting barber in the High 
 Street. Tommy, indeed, was a great card with both 
 high and low. Besides being hairdresser in ordinary to 
 the countryside (it would have been an act of down- 
 right lunacy for any rival barber to set up shop in 
 opposition to Tommy ; one misguided individual once 
 tried it on, but as Bob Magnum dryly remarked, 'Lor'' 
 bless you ! the poor chap was in the court in less than 
 three months'), he was clerk of the course at the races — 
 an important function, and one very much appreciated 
 by the sporting barber, as it was the means of bringing 
 him into contact with the county magnates, from 
 the Most Noble the Marquis of Muskrat downwards. 
 And the swells, as he termed them, liking Tommy 
 quite as much as Tommy liked them, the races 
 prospered exceedingly under his management, so well, 
 indeed, as to cause angry passions to rise in the 
 bosoms of sundry other clerks of courses whose mis- 
 
M6 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 fortune lay in not possessing the persuasive powers of 
 their detested rival. On the race-days, of which there 
 are two, it is a truly noble sight, as his admiring wife 
 says, to behold Tommy in all his glory receiving the 
 company on the grand-stand ; now bowing low to a 
 Duchess ; anon purple with laughter at a bon mot just 
 told him by young Lord Wagley. Tommy's shop, 
 always busy, is extra full of customers on market-days, 
 for besides his hair-cutting business, he sells sundry 
 other commodities much appreciated by country folks, 
 such as all the paraphernalia appertaining to cricket, 
 football and lawn-tennis. Fishing tackle, too, of all 
 sorts Tommy keeps, and here let me remark that, 
 should any follower of the gentle craft among my 
 readers find himself at Barleyford at any time, and 
 want to try his skill in the river Swimmet, so famous 
 for its trout and grayling fishing, he cannot do better, 
 should he desire any information on the subject, than 
 apply to Tommy, who, himself an ardent and successful 
 fisherman, will not only tell him all he wants to know, 
 but give him the best advice as to the most killing fly 
 to use. 
 
 Of course, our sporting barber is a member of the 
 Horse -shoe Club — I rather think, indeed, he was one 
 of the originators, if not the originator — and a most 
 popular member he is, for nobody sings a better song 
 or tells a better story than the festive Tommy. Need- 
 less to say, any friend of his introduced by him is made 
 free of the place at once. When, therefore, rather late 
 one evening Tommy appeared with a companion, who 
 he promptly introduced to the company as ' my friend, 
 Mr. Samuel Tester, gentlemen, late of the Detective 
 
A HOLIDAY ADVENTURE 247 
 
 Department, Scotland Yard,' the right hand of good 
 fellowship (mingled, perhaps, with some awe) was 
 promptly held out to the latter. 
 
 ' It will be odd,' whispered Bob Magnum in my ear, 
 as the stranger took a seat, ' if I don't run the Bobby 
 in for a story in the course of the night. Ought to be 
 game for a good one ; don't you think so ?' added he. 
 
 Accordingly, true to his word. Bob later on took the 
 opportunity, whilst toasting Tommy Clippum's health 
 and song, of suggesting that perhaps his friend might 
 care to amuse the company with some anecdote culled 
 from his past experiences, which, added the diplomatic 
 Bob, with a bow to Mr. Tester, he felt sure must be 
 very great, if he would allow him to say so. 
 
 And Mr. Tester, who was a ruddy-faced, jovial-look- 
 ing personage, in appearance more like a well-to-do 
 farmer than a policeman, having modestly expressed his 
 thanks for the compliment paid him, and testified his 
 willingness to oblige, shortly afterwards launched into 
 the following story : 
 
 It was in the spring of the year some fifteen years 
 ago, and some three after I had been promoted into the 
 Detective Department, that, feeling rather hipped and 
 out of sorts, owing mainly, I fancy, to the worries and 
 anxieties consequent on some very difficult cases I had 
 had of late under my especial care, and which had in 
 two instances turned out failures; and being advised by 
 the divisional doctor that a complete rest for a week or 
 so would do me a world of good — nay more, was really 
 necessary to my well-being — I bethought me of a long- 
 standing promise of mine to pay a visit to my old friend 
 
248 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 and schoolfellow, Harry Coleman, who, having married 
 a pretty cousin of my own not long before, had settled 
 down to farming on a largish scale in Buttercup- 
 shire. 
 
 My mind being made up, I wrote off to Harry asking 
 if he could have me for a few days. Back came his 
 reply by return of post. He and his wife, he wrote, 
 would be only too delighted to see me, and the longer I 
 stayed the better they would be pleased. He added : 
 ' You couldn't have chosen a better time, old man, for 
 your visit, for our Hunt Steeplechases are coming off 
 next Wednesday — always a great event in these parts — 
 added to which the Duke's hounds don't shut up hunt- 
 ing for another fortnight, so that you will be able to 
 have a bit of fun with them before you return to town. 
 I can promise you one thing,' wound up Harry : ' I can 
 mount you well, for I have got one or two tip-toppers 
 in my stable just now, of which, needless to say? you 
 shall have the pick. When we were boys together you 
 were a good one to ride, and I remember my poor old 
 dad would often remark that there was a good steeple- 
 chase jockey spoiled when fate made a policeman of 
 you.' 
 
 I may here remark, gentlemen, that what my friend 
 said was perfectly correct. Like himself, I was the son 
 of a farmer, and had been well ' entered ' to sport of all 
 kinds, especially hunting, at a very early age. Un- 
 fortunately, my father, who had for some time — though 
 none of us knew it — been hopelessly involved in debt, 
 died one fine day, leaving literally nothing behind him. 
 There was a sale, of course, and when everything was 
 settled it was found that there was just sufficient, and 
 
A HOLIDAY ADVENTURE 249 
 
 only just, saved out of the wreck to keep my mother 
 and sister, so there was no alternative but for me and 
 my brother to go out into the world and shift for our- 
 selves. I went into the police, as you are aware ; and, 
 on the whole, though it was a bit irksome at first, have 
 no cause to regret having done so. 
 
 On the receipt of Harry's letter, I lost no time in 
 applying to my chief for leave of absence, which being 
 readily accorded to me, I wrote off to my cousin to 
 expect me on the morrow. Lord ! what a welcome I 
 got from them all at the farm ! When I got to the 
 station, there was Harry — a little stouter, but just the 
 same as ever — waiting for me in a smart dogcart, with 
 as good-looking a mare between the shafts as ever I 
 clapped eyes on. Dashed if I didn't think he'd have 
 wrung my hand off, he was so precious glad to see me ! 
 And when he got me home, the way he began enter- 
 taining on my account — Harry was always a free, 
 generous-hearted chap — was really too bad. As I told 
 his wife, I felt almost like the Prodigal Son. It was 
 not a bit of use my remonstrating and saying I had 
 come down for a little quiet and repose, and to enjoy 
 the country air and so forth. Harry's answer was that 
 he had made up his mind for a regular lark the very 
 first time I paid them a visit at the farm, and, with 
 every due regard for me, a lark he intended to have. 
 
 On the morning after my arrival, the Hunt Steeple- 
 chases that Harry had told me about in his letter were 
 fixed to come off, an event we all looked forward to with 
 the deepest interest, seeing that my hospitable enter- 
 tainer had entered and was going to ride his own mare, 
 Polly Perkins, in the Farmers' Cup, a much coveted prize 
 
250 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 in those parts, and which he was extremely sanguine of 
 winning. 
 
 It was a beautiful spring morning, the sun shining 
 and the birds singing, and it was a merry party, I can 
 tell you, that started from the farm in the wagonette, 
 bound for Farleigh Park, where the races were held. I 
 for one, I know, felt as jolly as a sandboy, the pleasant 
 company I was in and the fine day combined causing 
 me to forget all my worries and troubles. In short, I 
 felt on the best possible terms with myself. Nobody, 
 thought I, as I sat in the wagonette with a pretty girl 
 on each side of me, cracking jokes and making the 
 country lanes ring with our laughter, would take me for 
 a srim detective from Scotland Yard. 
 
 I forgot to tell you, by the way, that I had asked 
 Harry, as a particular favour to myself, not to mention 
 my profession to anybody, thinking that perhaps, were 
 it known, the good country folk might not regard me 
 with such favour as they otherwise would, my calling 
 not being the most popular in the world, as probably 
 you are aware. And he seeing things quite in the same 
 light as I did, I was introduced to all his friends as ' my 
 wife's cousin, Mr. Sam Tester, from London.** It was 
 just as well that I was so introduced, as it turned out, 
 for had it been known what my real calling was, in all 
 probability I should have missed one of the neatest 
 captures of a daring criminal I ever succeeded in making 
 during my sojourn in the police force. To return to 
 the races. After an hour's delightful drive we arrived 
 safely on the course, and having got the wagonette in a 
 good position at the cords, and had the horses taken 
 out, Harry and I left the ladies to take care of them- 
 
A HOLIDAY ADVENTURE 251 
 
 selves for a bit, whilst we went off* to take a look round 
 on our own account. We had just got as far as the 
 stand, when a loud ' Hi V and a rattle of polechains in 
 our rear made us start, and draw on one side to get out 
 of the way of a coach, the roof of which was laden with 
 ladies and gentlemen and was driven by a dark-com- 
 plexioned, goodish-looking man, with rather a satanic 
 cast of countenance, and dressed in the height of fashion, 
 who now pulled up in workmanlike fashion at the 
 entrance to the stand. Somehow, the instant I caught 
 sight of him I seemed to be familiar with his face. So, 
 keeping well in the background, I had a good stare 
 at him before he dismounted from the box of the drag. 
 ' Where have I seen you ?'' thought I to myself. ' If I 
 don't know that nose, like the beak of an eagle, and 
 those piercing black eyes, my name''s not what it is.** 
 
 ' Harry, old man,"* said I, drawing my host on one 
 side, ' who's the swell who's just driven up in that coach ? 
 There : the man just taking off* his great-coat, I mean.' 
 
 ' Him .?' replied Harry. ' Oh, that's Mr. Bellefield, 
 the Australian millionaire. He is a rich man if you 
 like, my boy. A thousand a day and two on Sunday — 
 that's about the ticket. I wish I'd got half his com- 
 plaint, don't you, old fellow ?' laughed Harry. ' He 
 only came here just before Christmas,' continued my in- 
 formant ; ' arrived at the Crown Hotel at Fulborough one 
 day with his hunters and servants, and here he's been 
 ever since. He's made himself very popular, too, during 
 his stay, for he entertains like a prince, and subscribed 
 a hundred to the hounds without even waiting to be 
 asked ; and last, but not least, has proposed to and been 
 accepted by Miss Marigold, the great heiress in these 
 
252 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 parts. Nobody can make out what on earth he went in 
 for her for, for she is by no means good-looking, though 
 she is a nice amiable girl, I believe. She has three 
 hundred thousand pounds of her own, it is true, and 
 Bramleigh Court is a beautiful place, but he don^t 
 want money, so naturally the engagement caused a 
 good deal of astonishment, and, I may add, disappoint- 
 ment, for I fancy a good many of the mothers about 
 had the Australian in their mind's eye for their 
 girls."* 
 
 Well, Harry went off to look for his horse, and I 
 wended my way back to the wagonette to talk to the 
 ladies. Do what I would, though, the features of the 
 rich Australian would keep cropping up in my mind's 
 eye, and the question still kept uppermost in my mind, 
 ' Where have I seen you ?' Even the ladies twitted me 
 with being absent-minded, and no wonder. 
 
 ' Hang the fellow !' thought I ; ' you're spoiling all 
 my fun. I wish to goodness I hadn't seen you !' 
 
 Soon after the races began, and then, what with 
 arranging sweeps in my hat for the ladies, and looking 
 on at the races, to say nothing of the excitement 
 amongst the occupants in the wagonette when my old 
 friend Harry won the Farmers' Cup in a canter on 
 Polly Perkins, I managed for a while to forget my ' old 
 man of the sea.' 
 
 Well, gentlemen, I shall always remember that par- 
 ticular steeplechase meeting as the pleasantest day's 
 outing I ever had in my life. I really don't think I 
 ever did enjoy myself so much, either before or since. 
 To top all, as I have already told you, my host won 
 that coveted trophy the Farmers' Cup on his own mare. 
 
A HOLIDAY ADVENTURE 253 
 
 and you may imagine, therefore, the glorious jollification 
 we had at the farm that night in consequence. 
 
 There was a splendid supper, I remember, one of the 
 principal dishes, and certainly the most favoured, being 
 a lobster salad of enormous proportions. Now I never 
 can resist a lobster salad under any circumstances. I 
 believe, if I was dying to-morrow, I should sing out for 
 lobster salad. Unfortunately, fond as I am of it, 
 lobster salad don't like me, especially at night, so you 
 will not perhaps be surprised when I tell you that I was 
 paid off for my over-indulgence in the fascinating dish 
 by the visitation during my sleep of a most fearful night- 
 mare, which took the form of the rich Australian — the 
 millionaire, Mr. Bellefield. 
 
 I fondly imagined I had got rid of him on the race- 
 course, but not a bit of it. Not content with teasing 
 me in a thousand extraordinary ways after the manner 
 of nightmares, he finished up at last by seizing me by 
 the throat with both hands, whilst he hammered my 
 head on the ground, crying out between each bang : 
 
 ' Now then, you inquisitive scoundrel ! who am I ? 
 Eh ? Who am I ? Do you know me ?'' 
 
 ' No, I don't,' I gasped. 
 
 He started up at this, tore off the long cloak he was 
 enveloped in, and stood upright in front of me dressed 
 in the garb of a convict. 
 
 ' Now do you know me ?' said he, looking more like a 
 devil than ever. 
 
 ' Yes, I do !' I shouted at the top of my voice. 
 ' You're Jim Norton, alias the Snake, and I'll take you 
 dead or alive !' and with that I made a dash at his 
 
 throat. 
 
 ***** 
 
S54 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 ' Hallo ! gently does it, old man ! Don't quite 
 throttle a fellow," said a friendly voice. 
 
 And, waking up, I found myself standing in the 
 middle of the room in my nightshirt, whilst opposite 
 to me stood my old friend Harry, also in his nightshirt, 
 roaring with laughter. 
 
 ' Why,"* said he, ' whatever is the matter with you ? 
 You were making such a row with your shouting and 
 halloing that the missus and me thought something was 
 the matter, and, coming out to see, Fm bio wed if you 
 didn't go at me like a tiger, and nearly squeeze the life 
 out of me.' 
 
 ' It was that confounded lobster salad !' said I, 
 rubbing my eyes. ' It always plays me that trick. All 
 the same, though, this time it has done me a good 
 turn, or I'm much mistaken. Sit down, old friend, for 
 a few minutes ; I want to have a talk with you.' 
 
 I think Harry thought me a little mad — possibly not 
 quite sober. However, down he sat, and then I told 
 him the upshot of my dream. 
 
 ' Then, do you mean to say,' ejaculated Harry, rub- 
 bing his eyes, ' that Mr. Bellefield is ' 
 
 ' No more an Australian millionaire than you or I, 
 my dear boy,' I replied coolly. ' His name is Jim 
 Norton, alias the Snake, one of the most artful and 
 dangerous ruffians in England. He has already done a 
 long term for burglary, and is now wanted for a great 
 robbery on the South-Eastern Railway — gagged and 
 bound a great Paris financier travelling in a first-class 
 carriage in the mail one night, and robbed him of 
 coupons and securities to the tune of thirty thousand 
 pounds. There is a thousand reward for his apprehen- 
 
A HOLIDAY ADVENTURE 255 
 
 sion, and that thousand, Harry, I intend to claim before 
 the week's out. You said, I think, the hounds meet at 
 Bramleigh Court — the place belonging to the lady the 
 rascal is engaged to — to-morrow, didn't you ?"* 
 
 ' That's right,' replied Harry. 
 
 ' Very good ; then, I'll have him there, you see if I 
 don't,' said I. ' I never arrested a man in the hunting- 
 field yet,' I continued, laughing. ' It will give quite a 
 relish to the thing. And now, Harry,' said I, ' let's go 
 to bed again, both of us, and for goodness' sake, old 
 man, don't say a word to a soul, not even to your wife. 
 Promise me, won't you ?'' 
 
 'Mum's the word,' replied my host in a whisper, 
 grinning from ear to ear, and looking me over with an 
 air of intense admiration — ' mum's the word ! You 
 can rely upon me, and if you want any help to-morrow, 
 I shall be close and handy, you may depend. Sam,' he 
 gasped out, as he shook me by the hand before leaving 
 the room, ' you'll be the greatest man in the whole of 
 Buttercupshire by this time to-morrow, see if you're not.' 
 
 ' If you'll excuse me, gentlemen,' said Mr. Tester at 
 this point, ' I will break off my narrative for a second 
 just to have my glass replenished, for I'm a bit thirsty, 
 to tell the truth, with so much talking.' 
 
 Accordingly, after a short interval, during which not 
 only the story-teller but his listeners refilled their 
 tumblers, the ex-detective resumed his narrative. 
 
 V\'^ell, gentlemen, my host, who was quite as much 
 excited, if not more so than I was, rigged me up the 
 next morning in a pair of his breeches and boots, so 
 
^56 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 that I might take the field in proper trim, and after a 
 substantial breakfast we prepared to make a start. 
 
 ' Have you got everything you want ?' asked Harry — 
 ' whip, sandwiches, and so on ?' 
 
 ' Yes, everything, thanks, including these,** said I, 
 drawing, as I spoke, half-way out of my coat-pocket, 
 for my hosfs inspection, a pair of handcuffs. 
 
 ' Ah, yes, you'll want them,' said Harry, with a grin. 
 ' And now come on.' 
 
 Another minute we were on our horses and away. 
 
 It being the last meet of the season, there was a 
 tremendous assemblage of sportsmen, mounted, on foot, 
 and in carriages. It was a case of open house for all 
 comers, and we might have gone in and had some re- 
 freshment like the rest ; indeed, I begged Harry to do 
 so, but he declined on the score of wanting to see me 
 through my little affair. He had not long to wait. 
 
 The clock was just striking twelve when the fair 
 hostess, accompanied by her future husband, made her 
 appearance on the steps outside the hall-door. Harry 
 and I, both of us on foot, waited until our man had 
 lifted Miss Marigold into her saddle before taking 
 action. He was just going to mount himself; his left 
 hand, holding the reins, was resting on the pommel of the 
 saddle, and he was just putting his foot in the stirrup, 
 when, creeping close behind him, I snapped the hand- 
 cuff on his right wrist. Harry, who had followed me 
 like a shadow, at the same time seized the rascal's left 
 hand in a grasp of iron, and in another second Mr. Belle- 
 field, otherwise Jim Norton, alias the Snake, was hard 
 and fast. You should have seen the fellow's face when 
 he grasped the situation. You never saw a chap 
 
A HOLIDAY ADVENTURE 257 
 
 so crestfallen in all your life ; he hadn't even spirit 
 enough to swear. At first Miss Marigold wouldn't 
 believe it. However, she soon tumbled to what an 
 escape she had had, and before I left she was good 
 enough to express her thanks to me for being the means 
 of rescuing her from such a dreadful future as hers 
 would have been. It effectually stopped the hunt for 
 that day, as you may imagine, and, as Harry had prog- 
 nosticated, I was quite the hero of the hour. What 
 became of Jim Norton ? Oh, he got twenty years ; 
 and serve him right, the scamp ! 
 
 As for me, I got the reward, and any amount of 
 praise at headquarters, which latter was, of course, very 
 gratifying, and which I hope, gentlemen, you will think 
 I deserved. It zoas rather a neat job, wasn't it ? If it 
 hadn't been, though, for that lobster salad, and the 
 consequent nightmare, the plant mightn't have come 
 off — upon my word it mightn't ; and think what a pity 
 that would have been ! 
 
 17 
 
ONE HUNDRED POUNDS REWARD 
 
 THE HORSE-DEALER'S STORY 
 
 There are very few sportsmen — nay, I will go further 
 than that and say residents in the county generally — 
 who have not had transactions at some time or another 
 with old George Topper, the horse-dealer. Indeed, 
 there is probably not a better known man in the whole 
 of Buttercupshire, and certainly not a more popular 
 one. Consequently, when his rosy-gilled, double- 
 chinned countenance is seen peering in at the club-room 
 door one Saturday night, its owner is hailed with accla- 
 mation by the company present. 
 
 ' Come up here, Mr. Topper,' cries Bob Magnum, 
 motioning the old boy as he speaks to a chair on his 
 left hand. And the dealer makes his way accordingly 
 up the long room, exchanging greetings en route with 
 his friends ; and at last quite out of breath with his 
 climb up the stairs, and his exertions in the talking 
 line, plumps himself down in the seat assigned him, not, 
 though, before he had greeted me with a kind inquiry 
 as to my health and the well-being of a certain ' little 
 bay 'oss ' — an animal that has not long since been trans- 
 ferred from his stables to mine. 
 
ONE HUNDRED POUNDS REWARD 259 
 
 Our friend looks the ' horse-dealer,' every inch of him, 
 with his cut-away coat, his blue bird's-eye neckcloth, 
 with the rounded collar just peeping over it, and the 
 trousers which fit his substantial old legs literally like a 
 glove, so tight are they. There is a knowing-looking 
 twinkle about the eyes, as much as to say their owner 
 was not born yesterday ; otherwise his clean-shaven, 
 rosy face with its habitual good-humoured expression, 
 topped by the snow-white hair which gives him a bene- 
 volent and venerable appearance, is decidedly calculated 
 to inspire confidence in a customer. At his little place, 
 as he is pleased modestly to term his comfortable house 
 and extensive stabling, situated at Larkhall, some three 
 miles from the town, you can see every variety of horse 
 it is possible to imagine, from the three hundred guinea 
 hunter for my lord to the tiny Shetland pony for 
 Master Johnny. All sorts he has, but his speciality is 
 the hunter, there is no doubt about it ; and I should 
 say that a beginner at the game, desirous to be well 
 mounted, and dependent on the honesty and good faith 
 of the dealer for good value for his money, could not 
 do better than put himself in the hands of George 
 Topper. 
 
 As good judge of a horseman as he is of a horse, he 
 generally knows to a T what sort of a nag to recom- 
 mend. A Past Grand Master in the art of chaff, any 
 rash youth thinking to get a rise out of the old one 
 would be very apt to find himself hoisted with his own 
 petard. Many quaint sayings of his to customers are 
 on record, of which the following is a sample : 
 
 Customer to Mr. Topper, looking over at a horse he 
 thinks of buying : ' Can he go fast ?'' 
 
 17—2 
 
260 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 Mr. Topper : ' Like the wind.' 
 
 Customer : ' Can he jump ?"* 
 
 Mr. T. : ' Like a deer. Bless ye, he'd jump a house 
 if ye'd put him at it.' 
 
 Customer : ' Well, but can he stai/ T 
 
 Mr. T. : ' As long as a lady in a bonnet-shop.' 
 
 After that there was nothing more to be said, and 
 the customer had to buy. 
 
 Yet another reminiscence : 
 
 The relatives of a young gentleman living in the 
 country, endowed with considerably more money than 
 brains, disgusted with his extravagances and eccentric 
 behaviour generally, determined, as their repeated 
 remonstrances were not of the slightest avail, to call in 
 to their aid the Commissioners in Lunacy, with a view 
 to saving the family estates from going to rack and 
 ruin, as they most assuredly would if some sort of 
 restraint was not quickly put upon their harebrained 
 owner. 
 
 The young gentleman in question, shortly before 
 the Commission sat, rode over one fine day to pay 
 old George Topper a visit and ask his opinion on the 
 subject. 
 
 'You don't think I'm mad, do you, George.?' 
 said he. 
 
 ' Well, no,' replied the old horse-dealer, straddling 
 his legs wider apart than usual, and looking at his 
 questioner with a sly twinkle in his eye. ' Well, no, I 
 can't go so far as to say that you're exactly what I calls 
 a loon-attic, but there's no doubt about it you're a 
 damned fool.' 
 
 This, then, is a slight sketch of the worthy who. 
 
ONE HUNDRED POUNDS REWARD 261 
 
 being called upon by Bob Magnum to contribute 
 towards the evening's amusement, launched forth with 
 the following experience. 
 
 I was standing one fine September afternoon at the 
 entrance gate to my little place — which opens, as you 
 may recollect, gentlemen, on to the highroad — enjoy- 
 ing the cigar which it is my invariable custom to smoke 
 after my dinner, and thinking about nothing particular, 
 except, perhaps, that it was a remarkable fine day, and 
 that I had got together some of the nicest young Irish 
 horses that it had ever been my lot to come across. I 
 had had an extra good dinner, I recollect, and felt, in 
 consequence, not only on the best of terms with myself, 
 but with all around me — ^just in that sort of humour, in 
 fact, when a man feels that he would lend a friend, no 
 matter how impecunious, a five-pound note if asked to 
 do so — when my reverie was suddenly disturbed by a 
 stranger accosting me. He was a tall, slim young 
 fellow, well set up and with good features, but very 
 shabby in his dress, especially about the boots, as I 
 couldn't help noticing. 
 
 ' Beg your pardon, Mr. Topper, can I have a word 
 with you T said he, touching his hat. 
 
 ' As many as you like,' I replied, feeling in my pocket 
 for some silver, for I thought I could guess pretty well 
 what form the conversation would take. 
 
 He was evidently a quick-witted chap by the 
 way he divined my intentions, for he laughingly 
 observed : 
 
 ' Fm not going to ask you to put your hand in your 
 pocket, Mr. Topper, thank you all the same. What I 
 
262 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 wanted to ask is, have you anything just now for a 
 chap out of work to do ?' 
 
 ' Work ! What sort of work ?' says I, for somehow he 
 didn't seem much in my line. 
 
 He looked to me more like a clerk or something of 
 that sort. 
 
 ' Well, making young horses, rough-riding, driving 
 four-in-hand," says he, as confident and off-hand as 
 possible. 'Been at it all my life, Mr. Topper,' says 
 he, ' and I think I can give you satisfaction if you em- 
 ploy me.' 
 
 ' Any character ?' says I. 
 
 ' None,' says he. ' I've never done a thing in my life 
 except amuse myself — have never had any occasion to, 
 indeed. However, just now, owing to circumstances over 
 which I've no control, I find myself obliged to earn my 
 own living, and I don't see my way to do so unless it 
 is in connection with horses in some shape or form. 
 Character !' exclaimed the young man with a scornful 
 laugh. ' The only people I could refer you to would give 
 me a thundering bad one, so I must beg to be excused 
 bringing them into it.' 
 
 ' Well, that's honest, at all events,' thought I. 
 
 ' And you say you can ride well, eh — plenty of pluck, 
 and so on T I continued. 
 
 ' I have always been told I had a good seat and hands 
 on a horse,' returned the young man modestly ; ' and as 
 for pluck, all I can say is, I am ready to get up this 
 moment on any horse you bid me, and I'll guarantee to 
 ride at any fence you tell me to, no matter how big. I 
 can't say more than that, can I, sir ?'' 
 
 Well, gentlemen, the poor young fellow pleaded so 
 
ONE HUNDRED POUNDS REWARD 263 
 
 hard that I told him to come up to the house and have 
 a bit of dinner, and afterwards I would put him up on 
 one of the young horses, and see what he could do — give 
 him a fair trial, in fact. 
 
 He didn't say more, but the look of delight which 
 came into his face I shall never forget. I could scarcely 
 keep pace with my young friend, he was in such a hurry 
 to get home. 
 
 When we got there, my wife went to see about some 
 grub for him, whilst I had a drop of whisky-and- water, 
 and thought whether I could find a berth for him. She 
 came back full of him, bless ye. 
 
 'Why, he's a gentleman, George,' says she, 'or I 
 never saw one yet ; and you may depend upon it he's 
 run away from home or fell in love with someone he 
 didn't ought to, or something mysterious.' 
 
 ' Ha, ha, ha !' laughed I. The old woman had 
 weaved up such a romantic story in that brain of hers 
 as would have done credit, I told her, to the Family 
 Herald she was so partial to reading. 
 
 ' You'll take him, of course, George,' says she, ' if 
 only out of charity .?' 
 
 ' I'll take him if he can ride, my dear,' I replied ; ' not 
 without, I'm blessed if I do. If he only performs half 
 as well as he says he can, I'll engage him at once. If 
 he don't come up to expectations, why, I'll give him 
 half a crown and tell him to go about his business.' 
 
 This was fair, and my missus couldn't deny it, so she 
 got her knitting and sat down and waited until the 
 young chap had finished his food and was ready to show 
 us what he was made of. 
 
 We had not long to wait, for in less than ten 
 
264 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 minutes he sent word to say he was ready, if I was. 
 Out I went then, lent my gentleman a pair of spurs 
 and a cutting whip, and bid him follow me. When we 
 got to the stables I told them to bring out a young Irish 
 horse that I had had about a fortnight, and had given 
 my men no end of trouble. He'd got the tenderest 
 mouth imaginable, and none of my chaps had fine 
 enough hands for him. Pull at him and he'd chuck his 
 head in the air, and fight, and tear, and drive himself 
 nearly mad. He was one of those horses, in fact, that 
 required the most delicate handling imaginable. Such 
 a good-looking one, too, he was ! 
 
 ' There !' said I, as the horse in question was brought 
 out ; 'jump up, young fellow, and come out this way, 
 and we'll see what you can do with him.' 
 
 He gave the horse a pat on his neck, as much as to 
 say, ' We shall be good friends, I know,' and then 
 signalled to Jack Ryan, an Irish rough-rider of mine, 
 who was standing by, to give him a leg up, as cool as 
 a cucumber. 
 
 ' Paddy ' Ryan, as he was called, looked as black as 
 thunder, and took no notice. 
 
 ' Give him a hoist, directly, man !' said I, seeing what 
 his game was. 
 
 So the Irishman did as he was told with a very bad 
 grace, and in a second Ned Smith, as he called himself, 
 was in the saddle. 
 
 ' And, by Jingo !' said I to myself, as I watched the 
 young brown horse step jauntily out of the yard under 
 him, snatching playfully at his bit, without any of the 
 tossing of head and fuss there generally was, ' you're a 
 horseman, young man, or I'm very much mistaken.' 
 
ONE HUNDRED POUNDS REWARD 265 
 
 ' What shall I do now, sir ?' asked the novice, turn- 
 ing round in his saddle, and treating the young un as 
 if he was the quietest shooting pony in the world. 
 
 ' Oh, take and lark him about. Send him at every- 
 thing you see,** said I, pointing as I spoke to the different 
 jumps all scattered about my big field. 
 
 Away he went, now at a trot at the double post 
 and rails, then sending him with a rush at the artificial 
 water-jump. Never did I see a horse and man agree 
 better in all my life. It was a positive treat to see 
 them — it was indeed. As for my men, they were 
 perfectly astounded. 
 
 Instead of the young brown horse tearing along as 
 was his custom, fighting for his head and rushing 
 at all his fences like a mad thing, here he was giving 
 to his rider^s hand, and taking all his jumps like a 
 seasoned hunter of the most sedate description. I 
 could scarcely believe my eyes, and when at a signal 
 from me the young chap brought the horse back to 
 the stable, I didn't attempt to conceal the satisfaction 
 that I felt. I had got hold of a treasure, that was 
 certain. 
 
 ' Come this way, young man,' said I, as, having dis- 
 mounted, my new acquaintance gave the young horse a 
 friendly pat ere he consigned him to a helper — ' come 
 this way, and you and me'll have a talk together.' 
 
 He followed me into the house, and into the parlour, 
 where you may be sure the missus was waiting for us. 
 
 ' Will he do ?' said she in a whisper, as I entered 
 the room. 
 
 ' First-rate,' I whispered back. 
 
 She shook hands with the young man on the spot. 
 
^6 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 did that wife of mine, gentlemen, and between you and 
 me, Vm blessed if I don't think she'd have kissed him 
 for about twopence. Oh, she's a rare good-hearted one 
 is my old woman ! 
 
 The whisky was produced, and then we all sat down 
 and stared at each other for a minute or two. Ned 
 Smith was the first to break silence. 
 
 ' Well, sir,' said he modestly, ' I hope my riding gave 
 you satisfaction.' 
 
 ' Young man,' replied I, ' you've got the very best 
 hands on a horse (' an 'oss' the old gentleman pronounced 
 it) I've seen for a very long while. Not only that, you 
 rode that young hunter, who's an uncommon awkward 
 customer as a rule, in a way that does you very great 
 credit ; the more so because you've never been on his 
 back before. I shall be happy to take you on at once 
 as rough-rider.' The young man's face got red with 
 pleasure at this. ' Terms, thirty shillings a week, and 
 a room in my head man's cottage. What do you say ? 
 Will it suit you ?' 
 
 He jumped up from his chair, bless you ! and gave 
 that gouty hand of mine such a squeeze that I couldn't 
 help singing out with pain. 
 
 ' Hold hard !' says I ; ' you haven't got such a light 
 hand as I thought you had.' 
 
 He apologized, saying he was very sorry, but he was 
 so pleased he couldn't help it. He then turned to my 
 wife to shake hands with her, and blowed if she didn't 
 burst out a-crying, and hug him to her bosom ! I 
 didn't say anything, for I knew she was thinking of 
 our poor boy that we had lost only a year before. 
 And then we three sat down to have tea together, 
 
ONE HUNDRED POUNDS REWARD 267 
 
 Ned, as we called him — for we had got so friendly all 
 of a sudden that it really seemed as if we had known 
 him for years — declaring that he had never felt so happy 
 in his life. 
 
 After tea, and when the missus had left the room, 
 I took upon myself, with as much delicacy as I could, 
 to ask the lad what money he had got about him. I 
 say ' delicacy ' advisedly, because I felt now pretty sure 
 from his manner that he was something out of the 
 common run of young men. 
 
 He replied with a blush (I never saw such a chap as 
 he was to blush), putting his hand in his trouser-pocket 
 as he spoke, and counting its contents out on to the 
 table : 
 
 ' Fourteen and elevenpence halfpenny. There, Mr. 
 Topper,' says he, ' that's all I possess in the wide world, 
 as Fm a living sinner."* 
 
 ' Then,' says I, ' I'll advance you a tenner on account, 
 for I dare say,' says I, ' you'll be wanting some clothes 
 and odds and ends, so as to enable you to settle down 
 comfortable.' 
 
 ' You've guessed it to a T,' says he, ' and I'm very 
 much obliged, sir; and if you don't mind I'll just be 
 off into the town and get what I want, so as to start 
 fair in the morning.' 
 
 So I went to my bureau, got out ten sovereigns, and 
 handed them to him then and there, and off he went as 
 pleased as Punch. 
 
 The next morning, when I went out, there was my 
 young friend as fresh as paint, but with such a black 
 eye ! You never saw such a black eye. I never did. 
 
 ' How did you get that .^' I inquired, feeling rather dis- 
 
268 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 appointed, I must say, for I thought he had been 
 drinking and playing the fool on the strength of my 
 loan. 
 
 ' Ohj I met that Irish chap of yours, sir, who looked 
 so black yesterday when you told him to give me a leg 
 up, in the town last night. He insulted me and gave 
 me this.' 
 
 ' And you ? What did you do ?"* said I. 
 
 ' Oh, I hit him back, of course,' replied Ned. 
 
 ' Where is Paddy Ryan .?' I inquired of the men 
 standing round. 
 
 ' In the hospital, sir,' answered my head man. Jack 
 Thomson. ' This young man,' he went on, pointing to 
 Ned admiringly, ' half killed him afore he'd done with 
 him. I think,' added he with a grin, ' you've seen the 
 last of Paddy, master.' 
 
 ' I'm sure I don't care,' said I ; ' I shan't break my 
 heart if I never see him again, for I never liked the 
 man ; he was always a drunken rascal, and always will 
 be, in my opinion.' 
 
 Well, time went on. November arrived, and with it 
 the hunting, and my new young man had his hands full, 
 I can tell you. He was never out of the saddle, bless 
 you. And such a reputation as he had, too, already ! 
 Not only was he my rough-rider, but half the people in 
 the county kept begging for his services into the 
 bargain, whenever they had a nag that wanted some 
 riding. Blowed if they didn't nickname him the Swell, 
 because of his superior manners and his style of 
 dressing. 
 
 No wonder he was well turned out, for young Lord 
 Bellevue, for whom he had broken in one or two young 
 
ONE HUNDRED POUNDS REWARD 269 
 
 ones, taking a great fancy to him, gave him a letter to 
 his own tailor and bootmaker in London, giving Master 
 Ned carte blanche to order what he liked, the consequence 
 being that his get-up in the hunting-field was not to 
 be excelled by that of his lordship himself. 
 
 People who weren't in the ' know ' wondered where 
 on earth my rough-rider got his boots and breeches 
 from. Upon my word, gentlemen, my bosom used to 
 swell with pride whenever I looked at him. Such a 
 good-hearted fellow as he was too ! Though he got 
 offer after offer from great men round about to be 
 their master of the horse and so on, he refused them 
 all. It went against the grain to keep him from 
 bettering himself, and I tried my best to induce him 
 not to throw such good chances away. But he wouldn't 
 hear of it. 
 
 ' No, no, Mr. Topper,' says he, ' you behaved nobly 
 to me when I was thrown penniless on the world, and I 
 don't intend to throw you over now — that is,' he added, 
 with a smile, ' if you haven't got a better man in your 
 eye, in which case I won't stand in the way.' 
 
 As for the missus, she felt, as she said, like a mother 
 to him. 
 
 ' I only wish I knew who he was, poor young fellow !' 
 she would say, ' for it seems a sin and a shame that it 
 does, that a real gentleman bred and born, such as I 
 feel sure he is, should be passing the best years of his 
 life amongst people so much beneath him.' 
 
 She told me that one day, going over to my head 
 man's cottage, where ' Swell Ned ' lodged and boarded, 
 Mrs. Thomson — that was my head man's wife — took her 
 up to his bedroom, and there she saw all the parapher- 
 
270 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 nalia of a gentleman, much to her surprise : ivory 
 brushes with a monogram on 'em, silver-topped bottles, 
 a pair of splendid embroidered slippers, and a photo- 
 graph in a silver frame of one of the most beautiful 
 girls she ever set eyes upon. My wife conjured up 
 another little domestic tragedy, in the Family Herald 
 style, on the strength of that photograph, and, if 
 possible, was more motherly and affectionate to the 
 young man than ever the next time they met. 
 
 Well, the spring came, and with it the close of the 
 hunting season. 
 
 I had had a most successful time, and, thanks to the 
 handling of ' Swell Ned,' had sold nearly all my 
 hunters at extraordinarily good prices. I still, however, 
 had the Irish horse on my hands that he had his * trial ' 
 mount on. The fact was that I sold him for three 
 hundred to a gentleman who saw him perform in the 
 hunting-field with Ned on him, but when he got him 
 home he found he couldn't ride him, so back he came, and 
 having got a bad character, was rather difficult to get 
 rid of. In fact, he was a horse who, unless he had a 
 ' workman ' on his back, was no good at all to anyone 
 — certainly not to a chap who couldn't ride. 
 
 At Ned's suggestion, then, I entered him in a steeple- 
 chase for maiden hunters at our annual hunt-meeting ; 
 he himself, of course, to ride. 
 
 Oh, what a day that was ! The missus and I and a 
 large party all started in one of my big breaks on 
 purpose to see Donnybrook (that was the horse's name) 
 win. They made him favourite, and I had fifty of my 
 own money on him. Alas ! for once in a way Ned's 
 horsemanship was of no earthly good. The brown, 
 
ONE HUNDRED POUNDS REWARD 271 
 
 maddened by the shouts of the crowd and the scuffle 
 at the fences (there was a biggish field), got clean out 
 of his hand, bolted, and overjumping himself at a fence, 
 fell a buster, breaking his own neck and rolling clean 
 over his jockey, who was picked up for dead. 
 
 Well, we brought him home to my house, and for 
 weeks he hovered between life and death. The doctors 
 shook their heads, and it looked at first as if nothing 
 could be done for him. However, at length Dame 
 Nature and a strong constitution prevailed, and one 
 never-to-be-forgotten day ' Swell Ned ' was pronounced 
 out of danger. I did not produce a bottle of champagne 
 that day, of course. Oh no ! What do you think, 
 gentlemen ? 
 
 It was the very day after, and I was sitting after 
 dinner having a spell at the newspaper, when all of a 
 sudden an advertisement in the agony column caught 
 my eye. 
 
 It ran thus : 
 
 ' £100 REWARD. 
 
 ' Missing, from his home in shire, since September last, 
 
 a young gentleman, aged 2i ; dark hair and eyes, slight 
 moustache, and slightly built ; has a scar on left temple, the 
 result of an accident in childhood. Is believed to have enlisted 
 in the cavalry under an assumed name. >V^hoever will give 
 information as to his whereabouts to Messrs. Dryasdust and 
 Chuckleby, 110, Lincoln's Inn Fields, London, will receive the 
 above reward.' 
 
 I knew, gentlemen, directly I read that advertisement, 
 that we had seen the last of Ned Smith. I called the 
 missus, and showed it her. She read it carefully over. 
 
272 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 first began to laugh and then to cry, and finally went 
 into hysterics. Just like a woman, wasn't it ? 
 
 What did I do ? Why, lit a cigar, ordered a gig, 
 and drove straight into the town and wired to the 
 lawyers, with the result that one of 'em (Dryasdust, I 
 think it was) put in an appearance the very next morn- 
 ing. Ned was fast asleep when he came, so I took him 
 up to his room, and he had a look at him as he lay in 
 bed. One glance was sufiicient. 
 
 ' That's him, sure enough,' he whispered. 
 
 We went downstairs again on tip-toe, and the first 
 words the lawyer uttered were : 
 
 ' I'll write you a cheque for the hundred now, Mr. 
 Topper, if you'll kindly give me a pen and ink.' 
 
 I'm afraid I startled him when I blurted out, ' Damn 
 the cheque !' and when I gave him to understand that 
 I should never dream of accepting it, I am pretty sure 
 he took me for a fool. 
 
 ' And who is the young man .?' said I, after a pause ; 
 ' you haven't told us that yet.' 
 
 ' His name,' answered the lawyer, ' is Mr. Edward 
 
 Clayton, of Huntley Court, shire. His father, 
 
 with whom he quarrelled in September last, died ten 
 days ago, and our young friend upstairs, his only son, 
 comes into the property and some thirty thousand a 
 year.' 
 
 ' There !' exclaimed my wife ; ' didn't I tell you, 
 George ? Didn't I always say he was a real gentle- 
 man?' 
 
 ' You did, my dear,' replied I. ' And allow me to say, 
 sir,' said I, turning to the lawyer, ' I don't care whether 
 our friend Ned be of gentle birth or the reverse ; but 
 
ONE HUNDRED POUNDS REWARD 273 
 
 this I know : a fairer or more upright^'and honourable 
 young fellow never sat on a horse. I shall never see 
 his like again at my establishment, I know." 
 
 Well, gentlemen, it turned out quite correct all the 
 lawyer had said, and when he got convalescent ' Swell 
 Ned ' left us to go and take possession of his property. 
 
 He''s master of hounds now, and a great man in the 
 county, I can tell you. I go and pay him a visit as 
 regular as clockwork every year, just before the hunting 
 season, and am made a rare fuss of, I can tell you, on 
 those occasions. 
 
 Do I sell him many horses ? Why, I believe if any- 
 body was to suggest to him to buy one of someone else 
 he'd go for that individual then and there. Fm sure 
 he would ! 
 
 18 
 
ALL FOR THEM 
 
 THE DOCTOR'S STORY 
 
 Old George Topper, the horse-dealer, was in the 
 middle of his favourite song, ' The High-mettled Racer,' 
 one evening when I noticed Bob Magnum, in answer 
 to a mysterious communication from his head-waiter, 
 suddenly vacate the chair and leave the room. Presently, 
 the song coming to an end, we were just in the act of 
 applauding it, when Bob returned, ushering in a jolly- 
 looking personage, the sight of whose face caused a 
 general exclamation, accompanied by every outward 
 sign of approval, of ' Why, it's the doctor !' 
 
 ' Gentlemen," said Bob, ' Doctor Goodenough has 
 been to have a look at my head chambermaid, who was 
 taken rather poorly this afternoon, and he now proposes 
 to honour the Horse-shoe Club by spending an hour or 
 so with us before he drives home. I think, gentlemen,' 
 went on Bob, 'that I can assure him on your behalf 
 that he is welcome, can I not ?"" 
 
 ' Yes ! yes ! yes !"* roared the company in one breath, 
 to the accompaniment of much stamping of feet and 
 banging of glasses. 
 
ALL FOR THEM 275 
 
 ' Welcome ! Ah ! as welcome as flowers in May, 
 exclaimed old Farmer Wheatcroft.' 
 
 ' He's a danged good veller, is the doctor/ remarked 
 another stout agriculturist. 
 
 ' He is so, and what'*s more, he can ride like blazes !' 
 chimed in our huntsman. 
 
 He was decidedly a popular character was Dr. Good- 
 enough. As the huntsman said, he was a good one to ride 
 and fond of hunting, and, indeed, of all sorts of sports to 
 a degree ; owing, however, to his large practice, he was 
 very seldom able to put in an appearance at the meet — 
 not half so often as he desired, you may depend. The 
 doctor's ' get up ' in the hunting-field was not quite so 
 ' correct ' as it might be, consisting as it did of a felt 
 hat, a rather baggy pepper-and-salt cutaway, Bedford 
 cords, and a very imperfectly blacked pair of jack-boots, 
 constructed with more regard to the comfort of the 
 wearer than elegance ; but when the hounds got away, 
 many a swell in scarlet, ' got up to the nines,"* was 
 forced to admit that our sporting Doctor and his well- 
 known Roman-nosed steed Sawbones were an uncommon 
 bad pair to beat. They, in short, were ' rum ones to 
 look at,' but ' good ones to go."* 
 
 And now behold him, a cigar in his mouth, and a 
 glass of steaming whisky toddy at his elbow, settling 
 himself down for an hour's quiet enjoyment. (Capital 
 company is the doctor, I can tell you, and full of in- 
 formation and anecdote on all sorts of subjects.) 
 
 And behold him later on, being called upon by Bob 
 Magnum for the usual song or story. In vain does the 
 doctor protest and declare his inability to do either. 
 Bob is inexorable. There is a large company present, 
 
 18—2 
 
276 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 and the fine of glasses round in case of non-compliance 
 with his demand will, he points out, mount up to some- 
 thing considerable. ' Ah, well,"* laughed the doctor 
 with an air of resignation, ' I see I am in for it, and as 
 I never could sing a note in my life I must tell you a 
 story/ And so saying, the jolly medico, having lit a 
 fresh cigar and taken a refreshing sip at his toddy, 
 commenced the following reminiscence : 
 
 I need scarcely tell you, gentlemen, that for a young 
 man just entering the medical profession with a limited 
 capital — in my case a very limited capital — it is an 
 exceedingly difficult thing to get good value for your 
 money when hunting for a practice. I really thought 
 I never should make a start. At last, after much 
 correspondence, many visits to different towns and con- 
 sequently many disappointments, and much heart- 
 burning — practices that looked most flourishing on 
 paper, proving just the reverse when I came to look 
 
 closely into them — I fixed on one at B , a small and 
 
 quiet watering-place on the South Coast. My sister, 
 who came with me to keep house, was delighted with 
 everything. ' Such a charming picturesque little house !"* 
 said she, ' and such a snug practice ! You really are 
 an extremely lucky fellow, Robert.' She was quite 
 correct : it was as pretty a little house as ever you saw : 
 smothered with roses in the summer, and with a capital 
 view of the sea, one could wish for nothing better. 
 Unfortunately my sister was equally correct in her 
 estimation of the practice. It was snug. So snug, 
 indeed, that, as another eminent member of our pro- 
 fession, whom you may probably have heard of — Mr. 
 
ALL FOR THEM 277 
 
 Bob Sawyer, to wit — once remarked concerning his 
 own little practice in Bristol, ' You might put all 
 the profits into a wineglass, and cover them over with 
 
 a gooseberry leaf/ The fact was the people of B 
 
 were disgustingly healthy ; they absolutely refused to 
 be ill. 
 
 Nothing but a rattling epidemic would do me any 
 good, that was very certain ; and I longed for one 
 accordingly, for which I was reproved by my sister in 
 no measured terms for harbouring such wicked thoughts, 
 as she termed it. 
 
 Well, the pair of us were sitting together over the 
 fire one winter'*s evening discussing my prospects (and 
 they looked anything but promising, I can assure you) 
 over a cosy cup of tea, when a ring at the surgery-bell 
 suddenly interrupted the conversation. Finishing my 
 tea, I went out to see who it was, for I was seldom 
 troubled with a patient at that time in the evening. 
 
 It proved to be little Polly Gibbons, the daughter of 
 a lodging-house keeper in the town, whom I had once 
 attended, with a message from her mother, requesting 
 me to come and see a gentleman who had lately taken 
 her parlours and was suddenly taken ill. 
 
 'And please, mother says, will you come at once, 
 "^cos the gentleman's very bad,"* said small Polly, who 
 was out of breath with the haste she had made in 
 coming. 
 
 ' All right, my dear," I replied, ' I'll come directly Fve 
 changed my coat. Meanwhile, Polly, come this way, 
 and Miss Goodenough will give you a cup of tea, and 
 then we'll be off to your mother's together. Hooray ! 
 somebody's ill at last,' said I to my sister, as I opened 
 
278 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 the study-door ; ' give little Polly here some tea and 
 cake, whilst Fm getting ready, there's a good soul.** 
 
 In less than ten minutes' time I was ready, and, taking 
 little Polly's hand, off we started. On arriving at Sea 
 View, the name of the lodging-house in question, I was 
 at once shown in to the invalid by the landlady, who 
 opened the door to me in person, and would have much 
 liked to have entered into a minute account of her 
 lodger's ' sudding attack,' as she called it, had I not 
 nipped her verbosity in the bud. 
 
 I found my patient a man of between fifty and sixty 
 years old, but looking much more, suffering from a bad 
 attack of spasms of the heart, an ailment he told me he 
 was much subject to. He told me he had come to 
 B for rest and quiet, both of which were abso- 
 lutely essential to him, and his intention was, if he liked 
 the place, to reside there altogether. 
 
 ' I am well aware my days are numbered, doctor,' said 
 he sadly, ' and why not here as well as anywhere else ?' 
 
 I quite agreed, I told him, that quiet was very neces- 
 sary to his well-being; at the same time I thought it 
 would be as well if he had someone with him to look 
 after him and cheer him up. 
 
 ' Have you no relative or friend that you could ask to 
 come to you ?' I suggested. 
 
 ' Doctor,' said Mr. Greenfield (that was my patient's 
 name), laying his hand impressively on mine and look- 
 ing me straight in the face with those melancholy eyes 
 of his, * I haven't a friend or relative in the world. I 
 beseech you, as a favour, not to say anything upon the 
 subject. It is painful to me — more so than you can 
 possibly imagine.' 
 
ALL FOR THEM 279 
 
 I promised him, of course, wondering within myself 
 what the mystery was, and shortly after took my de- 
 parture, promising before I left to call and see my new 
 patienl in good time the following morning. 
 
 ' Pool fellow !' thought I to myself as I walked home, 
 'you have a history, if one only knew, I feel sure. 
 I wonder if I shall ever be taken into your con- 
 fidence." 
 
 I went to see Mr. Greenfield the next day, according 
 to promise, and found him very much better, and very 
 soon our acquaintance ripened into intimacy, and I 
 found myself dropping into Sea View at all hours for 
 
 a chat. Dunng the winter months visitors at B 
 
 were few and far between, therefore Mrs. Gibbons, the 
 proprietress of the establishment, was regarded by her 
 neighbours with jealousy, not to say hatred, at her 
 unlooked-for good fortune at having let her parlours, 
 as she called them. 
 
 ' And such a lodger !' exclaimed the worthy woman, 
 meeting me in the street one day, turning her eyes up 
 as she spoke until you could see nothing but the whites. 
 ' Such a lodger as he is, poor gentleman ! So unwilling 
 to give trouble, and that kind to my little fatherless 
 gurl, you can't think." 
 
 She was quite right: my patient was one of the 
 gentlest, kindest-hearted men I ever came across. 
 
 Though he had only been at B a little over a 
 
 month, he had already made friends with many of the 
 poor people in the place, and my sister was continually 
 telling me of little acts of charity on his part that had 
 come under her notice. Not only that, he was exceed- 
 ingly good company, when in the vein, having evidently 
 
280 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 seen a good deal of life at one time or another : there- 
 fore, whenever he asked me to come and dine with him, 
 which he very frequently did, I was not at all Icaih to 
 accept the invitation, the less so that I was sure of a 
 good dinner and a bottle of something good to wash it 
 down with, for my host was a most particular man, and 
 liked everything of the best. He was a man, too, with 
 very refined tastes, and Mrs. Gibbons^ parlours very 
 quickly after he had taken possession of them began 
 to lose the lodging-housey look they usually wore. The 
 dreadful case of wax fruit was banished from the mantel- 
 piece, also the two equally aggressive vases that flanked 
 it, one on each side. A sampler, too, the work of 
 Mrs. Gibbons herself when a little ' gurl," as she would 
 inform everyone with an air of pride, and the large and 
 hideous portrait in oil of the late Mr. Gibbons, looking 
 his stolidest, in a black satin stock and a crimson velvet 
 waistcoat, with a decanter of port wine on the table in 
 front of him and a glass of the same generous fluid in 
 his hand, had to go. 
 
 'The portrait of my poor 'usband was took just a 
 year before he died,' would remark his relict in a tearful 
 voice, ' and was considered very like, especially the wine- 
 glass in 'is 'and, which really stands out from the picter 
 as nateral as life.' 
 
 Well, one evening, having had an unusually good 
 little dinner, my host and I had drawn our chairs to the 
 fire and lit our cigars, when Mr. Greenfield startled me 
 considerably by abruptly saying, ' Doctor, did you ever 
 speak to a dead man ?' 
 
 ' Speak to a dead man ! Why, no,' I replied, wonder- 
 ing what on earth he was driving at. 
 
ALL FOR THEM 281 
 
 ' You never did, eh ?"* went on my host. ' Then let 
 me inform you that you are addressing one now, at this 
 moment.' 
 
 ' What in the name of goodness do you mean ?"* ex- 
 claimed I, thinking really for the moment that Mr. 
 Greenfield had taken leave of his senses. 
 
 ' I mean what I say. You are speaking to a dead 
 man," replied Mr. Greenfield. 'You have been a true 
 friend to me, Goodenough," he continued, ' and though 
 we have only known each other a short time, I feel as if 
 we were old friends. It is because I have every con- 
 fidence in you that I made up my mind this evening 
 that I would confide to you the secret of my life — a 
 secret that I pledge you my word has never yet been 
 revealed to a living soul. Do you care to listen to it ? 
 If you would rather not, say so, and we will change the 
 conversation.' 
 
 'On the contrary,' I replied eagerly, 'I am more 
 than anxious to hear the story of your life, and I think,' 
 I added, ' I can be trusted not to abuse the confidence 
 you repose in me.' 
 
 ' Good,' replied Mr. Greenfield. ' Fill up your glass, 
 and you shall hear all about it.' 
 
 When my father died eight-and-twenty years ago, 
 (said my host) I was but four-and-twenty. I had been 
 through the usual course — Harrow, Christ Church, and 
 all that sort of thing — and was by way of reading for 
 the Bar, when I found myself suddenly my own master. 
 My father had always been, though kind after a fashion, 
 very strict with me, and had kept me very short of 
 money; unfairly so, I thought. Indeed, had it not 
 
28S ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 been for my mother, who, of course, spoiled me, her 
 only child, I don't know what I should have done 
 occasionally for ready money. You may imagine, 
 therefore, how I felt when I found myself owner of a 
 nice estate and an income of nearly three thousand 
 pounds a year. Now I will begin to ' live ' in earnest, 
 thought I to myself. 
 
 My mother, of whom I was as fond as she was of me, 
 had the house for her life. ' But, of course, dear Frank,' 
 she said, * you will make it your home. You must get 
 yourself a wife,' she would say laughingly. * I should 
 like to see your children playing about the old house 
 before I die.' Now, as it happened, I had long ago 
 given my heart away unknown to my parents. Dora 
 Lindsay, one of the many daughters of a country rector, 
 I need scarcely say, could not bring me much in the 
 way of fortune ; therefore, being well aware the match 
 would not meet with the approval of my father, we 
 mutually agreed to keep our engagement secret for a 
 bit. There was now no longer occasion to do so, and 
 six months after my father's death we were married, to 
 my dear mother's intense satisfaction. 
 
 Five happy years we lived together, during which 
 two little daughters were born to us, and then Dora 
 was taken from me in giving birth to a third. 
 
 Always together as we had been, never scarcely out 
 of one another's sight, you may imagine how terribly 
 I felt her loss, and for many months I shut myself up 
 and refused to go out into the world at all. At last I 
 completely broke down and made myself seriously ill. 
 My doctor insisted on my going right away, and just 
 then an old college friend of mine, who had a house at 
 
ALL FOR THEM 283 
 
 Newmarket, writing to invite me to stay with him for 
 the autumn meetings, I at once accepted his offer. 
 
 I had no cause to regret doing so. The early hours 
 — for we had to get up at daybreak almost to see the 
 horses gallop — the fine bracing air for which Newmarket 
 is famed, and the excitement of the racing itself, did 
 me a world of good, not only physically, but mentally. 
 Nor was that all. My visit turned out a profitable one 
 in another sense, for, thanks to the good information I 
 acquired, I came out a large winner. The end of it 
 was, by the time the racing was over for the year and 
 my visit came to an end, I had quite come to the con- 
 clusion that of all the pastimes that an Englishman 
 could indulge in, racing was the most enjoyable, and I 
 made a mental vow to become the possessor of a race- 
 horse or two before I was many months older. Wild 
 dreams of winning the Derby and other great events 
 flitted across my brain on all occasions ; in short, I was 
 thoroughly inoculated with turf fever. Needless to say, 
 I did not find it a very difficult matter to get a few 
 horses together, and by the following June I found 
 myself fairly launched upon the turf. 
 
 At first I was wonderfully lucky. Quite by chance I 
 got hold, amongst my purchases, of a regular gold-mine 
 in the shape of a three-year-old named Leporello. It 
 had all along been supposed that five furlongs was his 
 distance, but on getting home and trying him we dis- 
 covered, to our great surprise, that he was a stayer of 
 the first water. The Chester Cup of the following year 
 fell to his share, and many other races, too numerous 
 to mention — in fact, we won a fortune by him. It was 
 a bad day for the stable when Leporello broke down 
 
284 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 irretrievably after winning the Queen's Plate at Lich- 
 field, you may depend. 
 
 With the old horse's secession from the turf, my good 
 luck seemed to have departed. I could neither win a 
 race nor back a winner. 
 
 The end of it was that, exactly six years after I had 
 embarked on the turf, I found that a continuous and 
 unparalleled run of bad luck had left me nearly penni- 
 less. I was ruined, in short, ' stock, lock, and barrel,' 
 as the saying is. (I forgot to mention that my mother 
 had died a year previously, and that a sister of my late 
 wife lived with me and took care of the children.) 
 
 The question was, what was to be done ? and I lost 
 no time in going up to town and consulting our old 
 family lawyer on the subject. 
 
 The estate was mortgaged up to the hilt, and it 
 was exceedingly doubtful whether, when it was sold 
 — an event which it was very certain was bound to 
 happen — the balance over and above what had been 
 raised on mortgage would suffice to pay off my further 
 liabilities. The old lawyer shook his head dubiously 
 when I gave him a rough estimate of the amount 
 owing. 
 
 ' I fear, Mr. Frank,' said he, ' you will have to begin 
 life over again. It's a sad pity — a sad pity !' 
 
 He did not in the least exaggerate matters, for there 
 was no getting away from the fact that I was to all 
 intents and purposes a pauper. 
 
 If it had been only myself who was to suffer I should 
 not have so much minded, as I was still a young man, 
 and could, no doubt, make a living somehow ; but there 
 were my three motherless girls to be thought of. 
 
ALL FOR THEM 285 
 
 Some time before I had insured my life for fifteen 
 thousand pounds expressly for their benefit, but unless 
 I died almost immediately, it would do them no good, 
 for so far as I could see I should be unable to pay the 
 premiums as they fell due. When I thought of it all I 
 was very nearly distracted. Well, it wanted a week to 
 the sale, and one glorious summer evening I thought I 
 would take my rod and go down to the river to try for a 
 trout, and see if I could not, by so doing, forget, for the 
 time being at all events, some of my troubles. Accord- 
 ingly, getting my rod, away I went, my three little 
 girls, who were playing on the lawn, rushing up to kiss 
 me, poor dears ! as they always did when they saw 
 ' daddy,' as they called me. Little did I think as I 
 hugged them to me, one after the other, that it would 
 be the last embrace I should ever give them in this 
 world. But it was so ordained. In half an hour I had 
 reached the river-side, and having tied a fly on, pro- 
 ceeded to fish. I whipped the stream for some time 
 with but little success, and was just thinking of return- 
 ing home, when I suddenly caught sight of an object 
 which lay on the water, apparently prevented from 
 floating by some rushes amongst which it was en- 
 tangled. 
 
 At first I thought it was a dead pig, but all of a sudden 
 it struck me that it was a human body. I could just 
 reach it with my rod, and accordingly, using the butt- 
 end, I succeeded in bringing whatever it was to land. 
 It was, as I thought, a dead body — that of a man 
 apparently about my own age. He had evidently been 
 bathing, for he was stark naked, and probably, unable 
 to swim, had got into one of the deep holes, of which 
 
286 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 there were several just there, and so met his death. 
 He was also certainly a stranger, for I knew everyone 
 about the place, and it was no one I had ever 
 seen. 
 
 I left him for a moment whilst I looked about for his 
 clothes. Round a bend of the river, not a hundred 
 yards off, I found them. Their owner was probably a 
 Londoner down for a holiday, for there was a chimney- 
 pot hat and black coat and waistcoat, all pointing to 
 the denizen of the town. I stood and looked at them, 
 thinking what I should do next, when a sudden thought 
 came into my head, impelled by what means goodness 
 only knows. Why should I not change clothes with 
 the corpse ? Put mine on him, and dress up in his. 
 The poor fellow was not unlike me, and probably by 
 the time he was found his face would not be recognis- 
 able. They would think it was me ; the insurance 
 company would pay over the fifteen thousand pounds, 
 and my three little ones would be provided for in the 
 future. I had, as luck would have it, bank-notes in my 
 pocket to the tune of nearly a thousand pounds, so that 
 I was all right as regarded myself. 
 
 And now to carry into effect my plan. I carried 
 the clothes to where their late owner lay, and 
 then, quickly divesting myself of all my own garments, 
 dressed the corpse in them, and then put on his. They 
 might have been made for me they fitted me so 
 admirably. 
 
 My next action was to shove the dead body well in 
 amongst the reeds, where it would not in all probability 
 be found for some days, if then — at least, I hoped not. 
 The fishing-rod I threw into the river also, and then, 
 
ALL FOR THEM 287 
 
 having taken a good look round to see if the coast was 
 clear, slunk off. 
 
 A small wood of mine ran right down to the water 
 meadow I was in. To that I hied, and sitting down 
 under a tree in its midst, I lit my pipe, and waited for 
 nightfall. When it got dark I once more made a start, 
 and at twelve o'clock found myself in a small town 
 some thirteen miles off. Here I obtained a bed for 
 the night in a small alehouse, where I remained all the 
 next day, until nine o'clock at night, when I got into 
 the train and came up to London, where I hired a 
 couple of rooms in the south-east district for the time 
 being. 
 
 A week afterwards I read in the papers of the dis- 
 covery of my dead body. There was an inquest, of 
 course, and I was on thorns for fear the jury might 
 find and bring in a verdict of ' suicide.' However, it 
 was all right, and they decided that it was a clear case 
 of ' accidental death.' So my children's fortune was 
 secured, and I once more breathed freely. 
 
 I ascertained afterwards from the county paper, a 
 copy of which I procured, that the sale of my estate 
 and effects fetched even less than we had anticipated. 
 Had I not, therefore, taken the step I did, there would 
 have been literally nothing for us to have lived upon. 
 Now, however, thanks to the policy of insurance, my 
 little children were well provided for in the future, and 
 I had nothing, therefore, to fear on their account on 
 the score of poverty. 
 
 The next thing to consider was what I was to do 
 with myself. I must not be seen anywhere near my 
 old haunts, that was certain, for fear of being recog- 
 
288 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 nised. Accordingly, my first action was to grow a 
 beard, which had the effect of altering my appearance 
 very much. I then betook myself to Paris, where I 
 determined to remain permanently. It was whilst I 
 was there that I got some information, quite by chance, 
 with regard to a French horse engaged in our Cesare- 
 witch and Cambridgeshire. Armed with a letter of 
 introduction to his trainer, I went to Chantilly one 
 day to have a look at him. A better-looking one I 
 never set eyes on, and the result was that I backed 
 him to win me a raker, not only for each race separately, 
 but for the double event as well. Barbe-Bleue (that 
 was the horse's name) won the Cesarewitch in a canter, 
 and the shorter race by a head, and I landed twelve 
 thousand pounds. 
 
 So my own fortune was secured, you see, as well as 
 my children's — that is, if I did not make a fool of my- 
 self. Well, I lived comfortably enough in Paris. After 
 the success I have just mentioned, I took to betting 
 systematically, making a complete study of the turf 
 market. In this way I made a regular income. Then 
 came the Franco-Prussian War. Having a pretty good 
 notion that things would not turn out quite so well as the 
 sanguine Parisians anticipated, I packed up my belong- 
 ings and came over to England, where I have been ever 
 since. I tried a watering-place on the East Coast for 
 some time, then I went inland for a bit ; now I have 
 come here, and as I like the place, and the place likes 
 me, here I intend to stop. 
 
 ' There, doctor,' wound up Mr. Greenfield, ' that's 
 my story. What do you think of it .?' 
 
ALL FOR THEM 289 
 
 Well, gentlemen, I gave him my opinion of it, and 
 it was this : that now he was in affluent circumstances, 
 owing to his successful turf operations, it seemed a pity 
 that he should go down into the grave without once 
 more seeing the children he had risked so much for. 
 
 ' I had no doubt,' I told him, ' that I could arrange 
 matters with the insurance company (he dreaded a 
 prosecution). If he paid the back premiums and 
 interest, I was certain,' I said, ' that the company 
 would accept them.' 
 
 I was acquainted, too, with the medical man belong- 
 ing to the company, which would, of course, con- 
 siderably facilitate matters. I so worked upon his 
 feelings, in short, that ere we parted that night we 
 had settled everything. We were both to go up to 
 London the next day, and I was to interview the in- 
 surance people straight away. If, as I expected, they 
 came to terms, there was then nothing more to be done 
 but to find out the whereabouts of Mr. Greenfield's 
 three daughters. 
 
 At eleven o'clock the next morning I called in a fly 
 at Sea View. 
 
 ' I expect he's in his bedroom, doctor,' said the land- 
 lady with a curtsey, as she ushered me into the sitting- 
 room, and saw he was not there. ' I'll knock, and let 
 him know you're here.' 
 
 She knocked at the folding-door accordingly, but 
 there was no response. She knocked again, and getting 
 no reply, peeped in. 
 
 * He's kneeling by his bed, sir,' she whispered, hastily 
 drawing in her head. * Saying his prayers, most likely, 
 poor, dear gentleman,' she added. 
 
 19 
 
290 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 A chill came over my heart for a moment, as motion- 
 ing her to be quiet, I stepped into the room. There 
 was my patient, sure enough, on his knees by the side 
 of the bed, with his head buried in his hands. Noise- 
 lessly I crept up to the kneeling figure, and stooping 
 over it, raised the head. Alas ! it was as I feared. 
 Mr. Greenfield was dead. 
 
A LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR 
 
 THE GAMEKEEPER'S STORY 
 
 ^ Well, Mr. Dilley, and how have you done with the 
 pheasants this season ?' inquired Bob Magnum one 
 Saturday night of a stout, powerfully-built man of 
 middle age, who sat sipping his gin-and-water and 
 enjoying the harmony in a quiet, stolid sort of way. 
 
 With the exception of the drab cloth, mother-of- 
 pearl-buttoned gaiters that encased his lower limbs, 
 there was nothing about him in the slightest degree 
 to indicate the gamekeeper. On the contrary, he had 
 more the appearance of a prosperous farmer than any- 
 thing else, with his chimney-pot hat, his blue bird's-eye 
 neckcloth folded several times round his neck, and 
 showing no collar, and his pepper-and-salt coat and 
 waistcoat, instead of the baggy, many -pocketed velveteen 
 shooting-jacket one always associates with members of 
 his profession. His hair and whiskers — the latter 
 bushy and brushed well forward — had a tendency to 
 red, and his gray eyes were set rather close together, 
 so close indeed as to lead one to doubt whether there 
 was the usual space of an eye's length between them. 
 
 19—2 
 
292 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 This peculiarity was probably the reason for his being 
 the first-rate shot he was. Gamekeepers as a rule are 
 indifferent performers with the gun, and certainly 
 quickness in shooting is the exception rather than the 
 rule with them. John Dilley, though, was not only a 
 good shot, but one of the quickest I ever saw. 
 
 As I have already observed, John Dilley did not look 
 like a gamekeeper, but he was one for all that, and as 
 good a one as you would find anywhere. A great 
 favourite with his master, old Sir Henry Welman, he 
 constantly shot with him ; and as I was a somewhat 
 frequent guest at Farley Court, I had many an oppor- 
 tunity of watching the head-keeper's performances with 
 his gun. Sir Henry used to say, with a chuckle, that 
 he had only been angry with John Dilley once in his 
 life, and that was one day out partridge-shooting, when 
 they both fired at the same bird at the same moment, 
 and John claimed it, and, what is more, stuck to it 
 that he was right, in spite of his master*'s positive 
 assertion that it was his. Sir Henry was rather put 
 out at the moment, but he quickly turned the incident 
 into ridicule, and for years afterwards never ceased to 
 chaff his old servant about it. 
 
 ' It zvas my bird, for all Sir Henry may declare to 
 the contrary,' said John to me one day when his 
 master had been harder on him than usual. ' I wish, 
 though,' he added, ' I had allowed him to have his way 
 in the matter, that I do, for he does chaff me so about 
 it. I don't believe,' wound up John, with a comical 
 shake of his head, ' Sir Henry '11 forget it to his dying 
 day, that I don't.' 
 
 To see John in his glory, though, was when Sir 
 
A LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR 293 
 
 Henry had one of his big shoots on. On these festive 
 occasions it was an impressive sight to behold John 
 placing the guns and marshalling the beaters. 
 
 'When you hear me blow my whistle," he would 
 say, addressing the latter, ' on you go, and be sure and 
 keep in line V 
 
 And woe betide the beater who did not obey his 
 orders, or who, in the excitement of the moment, 
 mistaking a blackbird for a woodcock, would holloa 
 accordingly. On that occurring, John would be more 
 sarcastic than abusive, finding it possibly more effective. 
 
 ' What !' he would say in a sorrowful tone, 'you been 
 brought up in the country all your life and don't know 
 a woodcock from a sparrer ! Well, I am ashamed of 
 yer, that I am !" 
 
 At rearing pheasants and breaking-in retrievers he 
 has not an equal in the county, or indeed anywhere 
 else ; and, best of all, he is one of the few keepers I ever 
 came across who manages to have foxes as well as 
 pheasants. Sir Henry''s coverts are always a sure find, 
 and when the hounds met at Farley Court the keeper 
 would turn out on horseback, either on an old hunter 
 of his master ""s, or on a stubby pony, his own property. 
 If complimented, as he often was, on his always having 
 a fox for them whenever the hounds came, he would 
 reply that there was in his opinion no reason why 
 pheasants and foxes should not go together. 
 
 ' Half these chaps,' he would say, referring to game- 
 keepers generally, ' don't feed the foxes, don't you see, 
 that's where it is, and so, naturally, the poor things 
 looks elsewhere for their wittles, just the same as you 
 or I should. They get hungry just like the rest of us. 
 
294 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 Now, whenever there's a vixen laid up in our woods, 
 I looks after her and her family, just as if she was a 
 young married woman in a similar condition, taking 
 her mice and young rabbits every day a'most. I don't 
 say the foxes don't ta-ke a hen pheasant off her nest 
 occasionally, because, of course, they do. Foxes are so 
 gallus mischievous, you know. But take 'em all in all, 
 they don't do half the harm they're made out to do, 
 in my opinion. There's a good many two-legged 
 foxes do a precious sight more mischief, you may 
 depend, and the four-legged uns get all the credit 
 of it.' 
 
 And now, having sketched John Dilley's portrait 
 for the benefit of the reader, you must please imagine 
 him called on by Bob Magnum for a song or story. 
 
 The keeper, after considering for a moment, chooses 
 the latter alternative, and forthwith breaks cover with 
 the following reminiscence : 
 
 Before I came to live with Sir Henry Wei man, I was 
 head-keeper to a very rich gentleman named Mr. 
 Conyers, in shire. My master was a great game- 
 preserver, though, oddly enough, he never shot him- 
 self; indeed, they did say he had never fired a gun off 
 in his life. He generally, though, had his house full 
 of company during the winter months for the hunting 
 and shooting, so I suppose it was for the look of the 
 thing that he preserved the large quantity of pheasants 
 that he did. I think, too, he liked to know that a 
 bigger bag was made at his battues than at his neigh- 
 bour's. 
 
 He was mighty particular, I can tell you, as to who 
 
A LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR 295 
 
 he asked to shoot ; a bad or even indifferent performer 
 was never asked again. Mr. Conyers was a widower, 
 with an only daughter, one of the lovehest young 
 creatures you ever set eyes on, and as good as she was 
 beautiful. 
 
 I suppose she got her amiability from her mother, 
 who, I believe, she took after very much ; she certainly 
 did not get it from her father, for Squire Conyers, as 
 he was called, was one of the most morose, cruel- 
 dispositioned men I ever came across. No one liked 
 him, neither rich nor poor. Even dogs never took to 
 him, and they are pretty good judges as a rule. In 
 short, I think there was only one person in the world 
 who had the least regard for him, and that was Miss 
 Violet — bless her innocent heart ! I believe one cause of 
 Mr. Conyers' bad temper — probably the principal one — 
 was that his wife had not borne him a son, the conse- 
 quence of which was that at his death the whole of his 
 estates, by the law of entail, went to a distant relative, 
 a cousin several times removed. It was to the son of 
 this cousin, Mr. Albert Blackstone, so I was given to 
 understand, that the Squire had made up his mind to 
 marry his daughter, in order to keep the estates in 
 the family, and with this object in view he was per- 
 petually inviting the young man to stay at Marden 
 Chase. 
 
 Miss Violet, however, to the great anger of her 
 father, would have nothing to say to her cousin, and 
 many and violent were the scenes between her and 
 the Squire in consequence, so the indoor servants said. 
 They all of them, men and women alike, detested ' Old 
 Surly,' as they called their master, and Mr. Albert was 
 
296 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 not much more popular with them either, the insolent, 
 overbearing manner he adopted to everyone beneath 
 him in the social scale being anything but calculated 
 to make him either liked or respected. 
 
 He had a vile temper, which he was good enough on 
 one occasion to give me the benefit of. He and I were 
 out one afternoon by ourselves to kill a few brace of 
 pheasants for the house, and Mr. Albert, never a good 
 performer at the best of times, shot, if possible, worse 
 than usual. He stamped his foot, ground his teeth, 
 and cursed and swore like a trooper as pheasant after 
 pheasant flew away unhurt. At last, a bird that he 
 had fired both barrels at and missed handsomely flew 
 my way, so, raising my gun, I brought him down. To 
 use an old shooting expression, gentlemen, I ' wiped his 
 eye' for him. He disliked me, I could see, and he had 
 for some time been trying for an excuse for unbottling 
 his pent-up wrath, and now he had got it. Accordingly 
 he lost no time in letting fly at my devoted head all the 
 fiercest invectives at his command. The foulest-tongued 
 bargee that ever was born never used worse language 
 than did Mr. Albert Blackstone at me that afternoon. 
 I can assure you, gentlemen, that it was all I could do 
 to keep control over my own temper. I certainly never 
 felt so strongly inclined to knock a man down in my 
 life as I did him. 
 
 However, I said nothing at the time, and but just 
 let him run on, and when he had finished quietly turned 
 on my heel and walked straight home. The next morn- 
 ing I went up to the house, and requesting to see the 
 Squire, told him of his nephew's conduct towards me the 
 previous day, and gave him clearly to understand that 
 
A LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR 297 
 
 I declined accompanying the young man shooting again. 
 The Squire for a wonder took my remarks in good part, 
 probably because he was afraid of losing me just at an 
 awkward time, and promised to speak to Mr. Albert on 
 the subject. Now, as I have already told you, Miss 
 Violet, much as her father desired the match, resolutely 
 declined to have anything to say to her cousin, and for 
 the very good reason why — because she was in love with, 
 and secretly engaged to another, young Mr. Edward 
 Forrester, the only son of the Vicar of the parish, 
 a Lieutenant in the navy, and as good-looking and 
 dashing a young chap as you would wish to come 
 across, and a particular favourite of mine, as indeed he 
 was with everyone he came across. He had no money, 
 of course (the right sort somehow always seem deficient 
 in that respect), though I believe he had prospects 
 hereafter from an uncle. Miss Violet and he had 
 known each other from children, and it was scarcely to 
 be wondered at that they should grow fond of one 
 another. Anyhow, it is very certain that she loved the 
 Lieutenant, and it was equally certain that in conse- 
 quence her father hated him ; in fact, he forbade him 
 to come near the place. The Lieutenant was now sup- 
 posed to be with his ship, so the coast was clear for his 
 rival. 
 
 The last time he got leave and came down to stay at 
 the Vicarage, he, of course, daren't go near the Chase ; 
 but there was nothing to prevent his coming to my 
 cottage, and it was a singular thing that he generally 
 found occasion to pay me a visit on some pretext or 
 another every day ; and it was still more singular that 
 about the same time Miss Violet would be seen tripping 
 
298 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 along in the same direction — to see mj wife, no 
 doubt. 
 
 In fact, my wife (who had formerly been housemaid 
 at the Vicarage) aided and abetted this pretty pair of 
 lovers by every means in her power. l^Hien the young 
 sailor was away on the sea, it was to us that he forwarded 
 his love-letters, you may be sure. And it was us who 
 were entrusted with the posting of the return letters to 
 him. 
 
 I think it was the third morning after my row with 
 Mr. Albert that, coming in to breakfast, I was met by 
 my wife with the news that she had got a letter from 
 Mr. Ned. 
 
 ' And a nice letter it is, John,** says she, ' and that 
 
 full of a scheme Well, there ! it beats Guy 
 
 Fawkes and the Gunpowder Plot hollow."* 
 
 With this she handed me over the letter to see for 
 myself. 
 
 In it the Lieutenant said he had got leave rather 
 unexpected, that he had heard accidentally that his 
 rival was at the Chase, making ' strong running,' as he 
 called it, and that he couldn't stand it any longer. So 
 he had bought himself a smock frock, leather gaiters — 
 the regular rig- out of a labourer, in fact — together with 
 a red wig and beard, and his intention was to dress him- 
 self up in this disguise, and come down the very next 
 day. He should tramp it over from a distant station, 
 and would take a lodging in the village, and he should 
 depend on me, he said, for finding him employment of 
 some sort — beating or such-like — every day. He wound 
 up : Tm sick of all this worry and suspense, Jane' (he 
 always called my wife Jane), ' and this time I am deter- 
 
A LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR 299 
 
 mined to bring matters to a climax, even if we are 
 obliged to make a runaway affair of it." 
 
 * And quite right, too, and very proper," observed my 
 wife, ' and the sooner the pretty dears are off to Gretna 
 Green the better, in my opinion. If that wicked old 
 Squire would only die,' said she spitefully, ' everything 
 would come as right as ninepence."* 
 
 Well, the next day, just about dinner-time, a knock 
 came at the door, and there was our young sailor, 
 grinning and showing his white teeth through a great 
 red moustache and beard. Such a get-up as you never 
 saw, for all the world like a play-actor ! He'd got a 
 white smock, yellow gaiters, and a bundle strung on a 
 stick and carried over his shoulder, just like an ordinary 
 labourer. In he came — Ben Smith, as he calls himself 
 — and, flopping down in my arm-chair, put his head 
 back and roared with laughter, in which my wife and I 
 joined in quite as heartily. When we had had our 
 laugh out, we all three sat down to dinner, and the way 
 the Lieutenant pitched into the rabbit-pie the wife had 
 made expressly for him did one good to see. We had 
 arranged it all for him splendid, I told him. 
 
 There was some wood in the outhouse all ready for 
 him to chop ; there was a bed to be had at old Mother 
 Brister's, who kept the turnpike on the Bunstaple Road ; 
 a large party were to shoot the Home Wood on the 
 morrow, so that he would be in request to assist in 
 beating ; and last, but not least. Miss Violet, who was 
 in the secret, was coming up to our cottage that very 
 afternoon on pretence of seeing my wife about some- 
 thing or other. At half-past three Miss Violet arrived, 
 according to promise, and the lovers had a good long 
 
300 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 talk together, you may depend. The result of this 
 conversation must have been satisfactory to Mr. Ned, 
 for I don't think I ever saw him in such high spirits as 
 he was after his sweetheart had taken her departure. 
 And he went in for chopping wood to such a tune, 
 singing and whistling all the time, that I told him he 
 wouldn't have any left for another day if he went on 
 like that. 
 
 He slept that night at the Turnpike, and, true to 
 his new calling, was up and at my cottage soon after 
 daylight. He declared he had never slept so sound in 
 his life. We had a good breakfast for him, you may 
 depend ; and, having done ample justice to it, he 
 resumed his wig and beard, and went out and chopped 
 wood and smoked his pipe until it was time to start to 
 the Home Wood. 
 
 ' And whatever you do, Mr. Ned,' said I, as we neared 
 the covert, and saw the underkeepers and the rest of the 
 beaters — quite a small army of them — standing waiting 
 for us, ' pray be careful and keep out of Mr. Albert's 
 way as much as you can, for I am not at all sure that 
 he don't begin to smell a rat. I was told this morning 
 that he was seen lurking about yesterday afternoon in 
 the wood not far from my cottage, and it is quite on 
 the cards he was watching Miss Violet. If he had a 
 suspicion that you were here, it would spoil every- 
 thing.' 
 
 He promised me he would be on his guard, and then 
 slouched off and joined the beaters. Upon my word, 
 he acted the character first-rate — a regular play-actor 
 couldn't have done it better. The way he slouched 
 about and talked the country dialect was really as 
 
A LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR 301 
 
 natural as life. By-and-by the house-party arrived 
 and with them, of course, Mr. Albert Blackstone, looking 
 in a worse temper than usual. 
 
 'Get out, you brute!' was his reply, accompanied 
 by a kick, to my retriever, Bess, when she, poor thing, 
 went up in her friendly way to greet him. 
 
 ' You cowardly snob !' I heard Ben Smith, who was 
 standing close by, mutter to himself, as poor old Bess, 
 giving a howl of pain, retreated to her usual place at 
 my heels. 
 
 Fearful of a scene — for somehow I could not get rid 
 of the idea that something out of the common would 
 happen that day — I lost no time in directing the six 
 guns to their posts in the covert, and having seen them 
 all right and in their proper places, I gave the word of 
 command to the beaters, and the fun began. What 
 with the firing, the shouting of the beaters and one 
 thing or another, I clean forgot Ben Smith for a while ; 
 however, when we had been at it for almost an hour he 
 suddenly slouched up close to me and whispered : 
 
 ' I say, John, I believe I am twigged. I caught my 
 beard in a hazel stem just now and off it came, as ill- 
 luck would have it, just as I had got close up to 
 where Albert Blackstone stood, and I believe he saw the 
 whole thing. It might have been fancy, of course, 
 but I could have sworn he gave a start of surprise as if 
 he recognised me."* 
 
 There was no time to discuss the matter further, and 
 Ben Smith went on beating as if nothing had happened. 
 And now, gentlemen, I'll tell you of as nice a piece of 
 villainy as ever you heard. 
 
 It was just luncheon time — indeed, the cart had just 
 
302 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 arrived from the house — and we were just finishing the 
 beat (the line of beaters, in fact, was within fifteen 
 yards or so of the ride in which were stationed the 
 guns), when I saw Ben Smith rush forward to pick up a 
 rabbit which, shot, poor thing, in its hind-quarters, was 
 dragging itself away as fast as it could. He was in the 
 very act of stooping to seize it when bang went a gun 
 in the path, just in front of him, and with a terrible 
 cry the disguised Lieutenant, clutching his breast with 
 both hands, fell forward on the ground. 
 
 I rushed headlong into the ride, and there, as I ex- 
 pected, was Mr. Albert Blackstone, pale as death, and 
 with the most diabolical expression I think I ever saw 
 on a man's face, j ust slipping a fresh cartridge into his 
 gun. 
 
 ' Did you fire that shot ?' I exclaimed. 
 
 ' Of course I did," he stammered ; *• fired at a wounded 
 rabbit. Did — did — you pick one up ?' 
 
 This he said, or rather gasped, with an attempt to 
 appear cool and collected, which, however, did not go 
 down with me, for I could see that his hands trembled 
 so he could hardly hold his gun. 
 
 I fairly lost my temper at this, and I blurted out in 
 reply : 
 
 'You're nothing better than a cowardly liar, Mr. 
 Albert Blackstone ! It was no rabbit you fired at, as 
 you are perfectly well aware, but your rival, Mr. 
 Edward Forrester, a man worth twenty such as you ; 
 and if he's dead, mark my word you're his murderer, 
 and if you don't swing for it, it shan't be my fault.' 
 
 And, shaking my fist in the coward's white face, 
 for I was downright mad for the moment, I once 
 
A LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR 303 
 
 more plunged into the wood to look after poor 
 Mr. Ned. 
 
 The charge of shot had entered his chest apparently, 
 just like a ball; and, so far as we could judge, there 
 seemed but small hope for him. There was no use 
 concealing his identity any longer, and Mr. Conyers** 
 guests were soon aware who the wounded man really 
 was. 
 
 Some of them knew him personally, and all by 
 repute ; and being well aware of the rivalry that existed 
 between the Lieutenant and Mr. Albert, they naturally 
 looked rather askance at that gentleman. In fact, I 
 could see plainly enough that they did not for a 
 moment place any credence in the numerous excuses 
 he gave for the accident, as he termed it. The first 
 thing to be done was to take the pony out of the 
 luncheon cart and send a boy on his back to the nearest 
 doctor ; we then took a gate from a neighbouring field 
 off its hinges, and lifted the wounded man thereon, 
 with a view to transporting him as quietly as possible 
 to his father's vicarage. We had done so, and were 
 just about to start, when who should suddenly appear 
 in our midst but Miss Violet. The look of horror that 
 came over her sweet face directly she caught sight of 
 the prostrate body of her lover I shall never forget to 
 my dying day; neither do I think that Mr. Albert 
 Blackstone will efface from his memory in a hurry the 
 glance of mingled hatred and scorn she threw at him 
 (for I had told her in as few words as possible how it 
 had happened). The guilty wretch fairly cowered 
 beneath it. Slowly we marched along to the Vicarage, 
 Miss Violet, pale and cold-looking as a statue, holding 
 
304 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 her sweetheart's hand in hers. She made no secret of 
 her love now. 
 
 At last we reached the Vicarage, and were met at the 
 door by poor Mr. Ned's old father, who wrung his hands 
 in mute anguish when he beheld his son. 
 
 Five minutes after the doctor arrived and examined 
 his patient, who by this time had been laid in his own 
 bed. How anxiously we all awaited his verdict you 
 can guess. 
 
 At last it came. 
 
 ' Youth and a good constitution may pull him 
 
 through, but ' And the doctor shook his head 
 
 doubtfully, without finishing the sentence he had 
 begun. 
 
 That evening Squire Conyers sent a servant to the 
 Vicarage to inquire after Mr. Ned, and a note to his 
 daughter requesting her to return home at once. 
 
 Miss Violet wrote a note back, in which she told her 
 father plainly that she did not intend leaving her lover, 
 and asking for some clothing to be sent to her at once. 
 
 Mr. Conyers, who, the servants said, was by this time 
 wild with rage, sent another note to his daughter, to the 
 effect that unless she obeyed his orders she should never 
 darken his doors again. 
 
 Miss Violet tore the letter up, and requested the 
 messenger to say that there was no answer. 
 
 An hour after the Squire was seized with a fit, and 
 before a doctor could arrive was dead. And do you 
 know, gentlemen, I don't think there was a single moist 
 eye in the district when the news became known. I 
 really don't believe Mr. Conyers had a friend in the 
 world. 
 
A LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR 305 
 
 Did Mr. Ned recover ? 
 
 I should rather think he did, indeed, and manied 
 sweet Miss Violet within six months. 
 
 The Chase, as I have already explained, all went 
 away from her through being entailed ; but the whole 
 of her father's money came to her, the Squire not having 
 had time to alter his will, as no doubt he intended to 
 have done. 
 
 Mr. Albert, as next heir, lived at the Chase for a 
 time, and was nearly as unpopular as his uncle. I need 
 scarcely say I gave warning to leave directly after the 
 Squire's death, and was lucky enough to get the situa- 
 tion with Sir Henry that I now hold, and a better 
 master I never wish to serve. 
 
 Mr. Ned stuck to the navy, notwithstanding the fact 
 that through his wife he had plenty of money to live 
 the life of a country gentleman had he so chosen. 
 
 He commands an ironclad now, and will shortly be 
 an Admiral, I hear. Her headquarters are at Plymouth, 
 where he has a beautiful place. I can speak with cer- 
 tainty, for the missus and I go there every summer as 
 regularly as clockwork to pay him and his lovely wife 
 and children a visit. 
 
 It is a standing agreement 'twixt him and me that 
 whenever I get too old for gamekeeping my wife and I 
 are to go and finish our days with him ; but, as I say to 
 him, ' I'm as fond of my profession, Mr. Ned, as you are 
 of yours, and I don't intend to give it up yet awhile, 
 you may depend.' 
 
 20 
 
MISS MOSETTA 
 
 THE RIDING-MASTER'S STORY 
 
 One of the most regular in his attendance at the 
 nightly meetings of the Horse-shoe Club was a gentle- 
 man who rejoiced in the name of Harrington Hicks, 
 who I am bound to say I took less a fancy to than any 
 one of the members whose acquaintance I had made. 
 He, so I was given to understand, had originally started 
 in life as a riding-master, had abandoned that for 
 photography, which latter not finding answer, probably 
 owing to the fact that he did not possess the happy 
 knack of making his sitters better-looking than they 
 really were, he had thrown up in disgust, and finally 
 gone in for that last refuge for the destitute, the wine 
 trade, which he now carried on in an elegant shop 
 situated in the High Street, Barleyford. In appear- 
 ance Mr. Harrington Hicks was a fleshy person of 
 middle height, with a pink-and-white complexion and a 
 little snub nose, the latter usually of a fiery red hue, 
 as if the acidity from the sherry consumed by its owner 
 on his own premises had concentrated itself there. He 
 wore no whiskers or moustache, but sported a beard of 
 
MISS MOSETTA 307 
 
 a sandy colour ; his raiment was inclined to be gorgeous, 
 not to say loud; and a superfluity of jewellery of the 
 flash order — horse-shoes predominating — adorned his 
 person. Lastly, he possessed the highest possible 
 opinion of himself — an opinion, I regret to say, not 
 shared by the world in general, certainly not by me. 
 In short, take him altogether, he combined in his own 
 person as much vulgar assurance and impudence as 
 would have supplied a dozen ordinary mortals. 
 
 The circulars he sends out to his customers, setting 
 forth the virtues of the different wines in his capacious 
 cellars, are sublime in their way, and of themselves ought 
 to make their author''s fortune ; we suspect, though, the 
 enterprising Mr. Hicks"'s chief customers are the farmers 
 round about, who purchase from him their brandy, 
 whisky, and gin, and the sweet sherry and fruity port 
 they so much affect as a rule. 
 
 He used to pester me so for an order that at last I 
 was afraid to pass his shop. 
 
 ' I very much wish. Captain, "^ he would say (he always 
 persisted in calling me * Captain '), ' you'd step in some 
 afternoon when just passing, and sample my champagne. 
 IVe some Gripes pere et fils of Epernay manufactured 
 expressly for yours truly. Fve got some port, too, I 
 should like you to try — not an 'eadache in an 'ogshead 
 of it — and some 'ock also I think you'll say there's no 
 'arm in.' 
 
 In an evil moment I consented, and I did sample the 
 Gripes pere et fils and the port. I don't know about 
 the headache, but I will answer for the stomachache 
 that followed on. I had, indeed, a benefit. 
 
 This, then, is a slight sketch of the Club member who 
 
 20—2 
 
308 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 is now called upon by Bob Magnum for a song or 
 story — the latter preferred, if he knows one. 
 
 From my description of him, I fancy the reader can 
 easily imagine that Mr. Hicks was not at all the sort 
 of person to feel the least shy or bashful on such an 
 occasion. On the contrary, fingering his impudent- 
 looking fan-beard complacently (taking care, you may 
 be sure, to use the hand with the diamond ring on 
 the little finger), he informed the chairman and com- 
 pany in reply that nothing would give him greater 
 pleasure. 
 
 ' Stories !' he exclaimed, ' why, I have hundreds of 
 'em. Bless you, I haven't knocked about here, there, 
 and everywhere for nothing. Not me. So with your 
 leave, Mr. Chairman and gents. Til commence, and 
 at once, and tell you a little love adventure that 
 'appened to your obedient servant not a great many 
 years ago.' 
 
 I had not long made my first start, gentlemen, on 
 the railroad of life, in the capacity of clerk to old 
 Cruncher, the lawyer, at Potterton, in the Midlands, 
 when business took me one day to a certain fashionable 
 watering-place that shall be nameless. The said busi- 
 ness consisted of the disagreeable duty of serving a 
 writ on a young spark who had been at our town during 
 the winter for the hunting, and had left without paying 
 the hotel bill for himself and his horses. On calling at 
 his abode I learnt that he was away and not expected 
 back for three days. I immediately wired this intelli- 
 gence to my principal, asking what I should do. The 
 reply was : ' Stop until he returns.' I need scarcely 
 
MISS MOSETTA 309 
 
 say this arrangement suited my book down to the 
 ground, the fresh sea air and the gay company who 
 thronged the principal promenades and drives being a 
 decided change for the better from old Cruncher's stuffy, 
 ill-ventilated office, and the sight of the bucolic-looking 
 folk one perpetually saw mooning about the streets of 
 poor slow old Potterton. 
 
 Mine was ever a cool, calculating nature, gents, from 
 boyhood upwards, and I had not been a whole day in 
 the place before I had arrived at one conclusion, which 
 was, that one of the pleasantest professions that a man 
 could take up was that of a riding-master. As I leaned 
 over the rails of the fashionable promenade with a two- 
 penny cigar in my mouth (it wouldn"'t run to a better 
 in those days), and watched bevy after bevy of charming 
 young ladies, perhaps as many as twenty sometimes 
 altogether, cantering along, chattering and laughing, 
 the riding-master in their midst, now touching the 
 neatly-gloved little hand of the charmer on his right, 
 under pretence of showing her how to hold the reins 
 (the sly dog !), now whispering soft nothings into the 
 rosy ear of the pretty girl on the other side, I thought 
 to myself, ' You lucky dog ! what wouldn't I give to 
 be in your place !"* And before the party were well 
 out of sight another lot of little dears would come 
 tittuping up. My poor heart, gents, I give you my 
 sacred word, was in quite a dangerous state of agitation 
 the whole of the blessed day. I am not a vain man, 
 but by the close of the day, when I had had a good 
 stare at every riding-master in the place, I decided 
 within myself that there was not one amongst the lot 
 who could hold a candle to yours truly in the way of 
 
310 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 personal appearance. In turf phraseology, I could have 
 given every man Jack of 'em a stone and a beating. 
 There was no possible cause to doubt it, as the chap 
 says in ' The Gondoliers.' 
 
 When I got back to my hotel and looked at myself 
 in the glass in my bedroom, on going there to tittivate 
 myself up a bit before dinner, I was more convinced 
 than ever. 
 
 ' 'Arrington Tcks (the wine-merchant knocked his 
 ' h*'s "* about sadly), deagh boy,' says I, soliloquizing to 
 myself, ' you're a good-looking chap, and no mistake 
 about it, and it is your bounden duty not to waste 
 your beauty on the desert hair.' 
 
 And with that, gents, I went downstairs and ordered 
 a pint of sham to wash down my dinner with, and 
 enable me the better to work out a scheme for the 
 future that had been running through my brain all the 
 afternoon. 
 
 You'd like to know, no doubt, what the idea was. 
 I'll gratify your wish in a very few words : it was to 
 cut the law and set up as a riding-master on my own 
 account. 
 
 Well, I finished my pint of sham and ordered another, 
 and as I sipped it the prospect got rosier and rosier 
 every moment, 
 
 ' There must be heiresses by the dozen amongst all 
 those school-gals,' thought I to myself, 'and if one 
 of 'em should take it into her pretty head to fall in 
 love with her riding-master, what is to prevent her 
 marrying the man of her choice, I should like to 
 know ? A fellow can't help his good looks, that's very 
 certain.' 
 
MISS MOSETTA 311 
 
 In short, gents, that bottle of sham settled my future 
 effectually. By the time I rose from the dinner-table 
 the legal profession, to all intents and purposes, had 
 lost a distinguished member, for I had quite settled in 
 my own mind that directly I had served the writ on the 
 runaway swell, and returned home, I would give old 
 Cruncher a week's notice. 
 
 The next morning, having ascertained that the young 
 sportsman in question had returned, I served him with 
 the document in question, as he was sitting at breakfast 
 in the best sitting-room of the best hotel in the place. 
 (The young sparks who don't pay their bills always stay 
 at the best hotels and have the best of everything, I 
 notice.) 
 
 I regret to have to record that, notwithstanding that 
 I performed my disagreeable duty in the most gentle- 
 manlike manner possible, he returned my politeness by 
 being most abominably rude, not to say insulting. 
 Addressing me as a confounded snob, he informed me 
 that it was precious lucky for me that he had not his 
 boots on at the moment, otherwise he would have done 
 himself the pleasure of kicking me downstairs. As it 
 was, he contented himself by setting his nasty brute 
 of a bull-terrier at me, who went at my legs with such 
 vigour that I ran downstairs considerably faster than I 
 had come up, to the inexpressible delight of the waiters 
 and other domestics belonging to the place, and my 
 proportionate disgust. Why is it the lower orders are 
 always so pleased when any misfortune happens to a 
 myrmidon of the law, I wonder? I believe, if I had 
 tumbled down the whole flight of stairs and the brute 
 of a dog had tried to throttle me when 1 got to the 
 
312 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 bottom, not a mother's son of 'em would have interfered 
 to save my life. 
 
 I need scarcely say I was now more disgusted with 
 the law than ever, and, returning to Potterton that 
 same afternoon, before nightfall I had tendered my 
 resignation to old Cruncher, w^ho accepted it in his 
 usual matter-of-fact way, his only remark being to 
 express his opinion that I was an ass on my informing 
 him of my intention of setting up as an instructor of 
 riding. 
 
 There was no difficulty about money, as I had the 
 best part of a thousand pounds at my command, left 
 me by my father ; the only question was where to 
 go to. 
 
 After a deal of consideration and a lot of money 
 spent in visiting all the most likely towns for my 
 purpose, I finally decided on the beautiful city of 
 Tubbeville, whose hot springs, so beneficial in cases of 
 gout and rheumatism, are of world-wide reputation, 
 causing multitudes of invalids suffering from these com- 
 plaints to flock there in the spring and winter with a 
 view of alleviating their sufferings. Tubbeville, too, 
 was cramful of colleges and schools of all sorts, and in 
 consequence was a favourite resort for parents who had 
 children to educate. On inquiry I ascertained that 
 there were only one or two riding-masters in the place, 
 and these I quickly determined to try and cut out if 
 possible. Accordingly I engaged some premises, pur- 
 chased half a dozen horses and a couple of ponies — the 
 former stood me in about thirty pounds apiece — bought 
 myself a complete rig-out of clothes — being very par- 
 ticular as to my hat, and breeches, and boots — had my 
 
MISS MOSETTA 313 
 
 cards printed, and having distributed the same broad- 
 cast through the town, awaited the result. I am bound 
 to say that when three weeks had elapsed, and I had 
 only had one pupil, and that a nasty little boy of 
 tender years, who tumbled off his pony in the park 
 the very first go off, and raised such a hullabaloo in 
 consequence as to cause quite a crowd to assemble, I 
 began to feel a bit anxious. The horses were eating 
 their heads off, and nothing for 'em to do. Servants 
 had to be paid ; Christmas coming on too. 
 
 The prospect looked anything but promising, I can 
 tell you. The fact was that there was no money in 
 Tubbeville. The invalids, of course, couldn't ride if 
 they wanted to, and the majority of the other visitors 
 to the town were people who came to reside there with 
 a view of economizing rather than spending money — 
 officers on half-pay, retired Indians, and such-like. As 
 for the bevies of young ladies, the sight of which had 
 so excited my admiration at the seaside town I had 
 visited, they were not to be seen at Tubbeville. I 
 really was never so deceived in a place in my life. 
 Riding exercise, too, admitted by the faculty to be so 
 conducive to the health, especially for the young ! 
 ' Why, the parents and guardians in this beautiful 
 town ought to be downright ashamed of themselves !' I 
 would find myself exclaiming in a fit of righteous 
 indignation a hundred times in the day. 
 
 Well, one fine morning I was standing at the 
 entrance to my yard, with my hands in my pockets, 
 and thinking it was just about time for me to advertise 
 the nags for sale and clear out of Tubbeville before 
 what little was left of the money was spent, when a 
 
314 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 smart-looking maid-servant approached, who, inquiring 
 if I was Mr. Harrington Hicks, and being answered in 
 the affirmative, at once handed me a note, which I as 
 promptly opened and read. It was dated from a house 
 in the most fashionable part of Tubbeville, and ran 
 thus : 
 
 ' Miss Mosetta being desirous of taking some lessons 
 in riding, will thank Mr. Harrington Hicks to call on 
 her at three o'clock this afternoon to arrange for same." 
 
 ' H'm ! Slightly arbitrary, but highly satisfactory ,'' 
 I muttered to myself. 
 
 ' Have the goodness to tell your mistress that I will 
 be sure and wait upon her without fail at the time 
 appointed, will you, my dear ?"* said I to the pretty 
 slavey, at the same time slipping half a crown into her 
 hand. ' By the way,' I added insinuatingly, as an after- 
 thought, just as she was turning to go, ' is your mistress 
 a young lady ? I merely ask, so that I shall know how 
 to mount her when she goes out riding, that's all.' 
 
 ' Well, she ain't young, and she ain't old. Betwixt 
 and between like,' answered the maid, with a giggle. 
 ' She ain't very pretty neither, but she's got 'eaps of 
 money. I believe she could buy 'em all up in Tubbe- 
 ville if she chose. The only wonder,' wound up this 
 communicative young person, ' is that she ain't got hold 
 of a sweetheart with all her money before now ; but 
 she ain't. She and Miss Brand, her companion, live 
 quite alone, and not a soul ever comes near the house 
 but the doctor, and he's a married man.' 
 
 Having delivered herself of this piece of intelligence, 
 
MISS MOSETTA 315 
 
 she gave me a pert little nod, and tripped off gaily 
 with my message to her mistress. 
 
 At three o''clock to the minute I presented myself, 
 looking my smartest, you may depend, at Belvidere 
 House, and inquired for Miss Mosetta, and was in- 
 formed by an austere-looking butler, who opened the 
 door, that she was at that moment engaged, but that 
 Miss Brand would see me. He then ushered me into 
 a handsome drawing-room — splendidly furnished — in 
 which sat a masculine-looking female with a moustache, 
 who I judged rightly to be the lady in question. 
 Motioning me to a chair, she at once proceeded to 
 business. Miss Mosetta, she proceeded to inform me, 
 was a young lady of fortune in delicate health, and had 
 been recommended by her doctor to take horse exercise 
 every day. As, however, she had scarcely ever ridden, 
 and had not got a horse or pony of her own, it was 
 deemed advisable — at first, at all events — that she 
 should receive some tuition. 
 
 With that object in view, then, she had applied to 
 me in the matter, and as some of Miss Mosetta's 
 requirements would necessitate special arrangement, 
 she thought it as well to see me personally beforehand. 
 
 * In the first place," said Miss Brand, ' Miss Mosetta 
 must have a horse — the best you have in your stable — 
 reserved entirely for her own use. Nobody else is even 
 to mount it. In order to remove any difficulty on that 
 score," she added, ' put your price on the horse and Miss 
 Mosetta will buy it outright. Secondly, you will be 
 required to call here for her every morning at half-past 
 ten o'clock and devote at least three hours to her — by 
 which, I mean,"* explained Miss Brand, ' that Miss 
 
316 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 Mosetta desires no other ladies to accompany her in her 
 rides. Should she wish to go out again in the afternoon, 
 nothing must stand in the way. You understand ? 
 These are our requirements, Mr. Hicks, and it is for you 
 to accept or decline them as you think fit. As to terms, 
 you have only to name them. Miss Mosetta is quite 
 aware that she cannot expect to take up your time 
 for nothing, and is fully prepared to pay accordingly."* 
 
 At that moment the door burst open, and in bounced 
 as extraordinary looking a female as ever I saw in my 
 life. 
 
 Imagine a short dumpy woman, with a fat face, little 
 twinkling black eyes, jet-black 'air, muddy complexion, 
 no chin to speak of, full lips, and a very prominent nose 
 of decidedly Jewish pattern, and there you have Miss 
 Mosetta, for she it was. She was attired in a bright 
 blue habit, indifferently made, and she sported on her 
 head a chimney-pot hat, which she had so jammed down 
 that it looked as if it meant coming right over her face 
 every moment. 
 
 ' My duck of a Brandy Wandy !' she screamed, rush- 
 ing up to Miss Brand, and giving her a sounding kiss 
 on the cheek, which that stately lady received with the 
 greatest composure imaginable. ' My duck of a Brandy 
 Wandy ! Do look at my lovely legs and tell me what 
 you think of 'em.' 
 
 With that, tripping into the middle of the room, 
 she lifted up her habit skirt, and shooting out a very 
 fat leg, encased in a patent-leather boot, struck an 
 attitude. 
 
 ' There !' she exclaimed ; ' what do you think of that, 
 my cat ? That's something like a leg for a boot, isn't 
 
MISS MOSETTA 317 
 
 it ? Don't say it isn't, or I'll scratch that glass eye of 
 yours out and throw it out of the window.' 
 
 ' Very elegant indeed — most elegant,' replied Miss 
 Brand, without moving a muscle of her countenance. 
 'And now, Maria,' she continued, with a wave of her 
 mittened hand towards me, ' this is Mr. Hicks, who is 
 going to teach you how to ride.' 
 
 ' Oh, that's Mr. Hicks, is it,' answered Miss Mosetta, 
 marching straight up to me and looking up into my 
 face. ' And pray,' said she, ' what do you think of my 
 lovely legs ? Tell me truly, or I won't love, honour, 
 and obey you.' 
 
 ' Beautiful ! lovely indeed !' I blurted out, scarcely 
 knowing what to say. 
 
 ' Of course they are !' she exclaimed ; ' give me 
 your hand, my hearty,' and with that she shook me 
 warmly by the hand and burst into a peal of wild 
 laughter. 
 
 She had great teeth like a horse, and when she 
 grinned, upon my soul I could not help thinking of the 
 Cheshire cat. Suddenly the laughter ceased, her face 
 assumed a grave expression, and she walked slowly up 
 to me, and catching me by the whiskers (I wore them 
 just then rather long), got my ear down to a level with 
 her mouth. 
 
 ' You said just now,' she whispered, ' that my legs 
 were lovely. Don't tell anybody, but you shall see 'em 
 twinkle in the polka.' 
 
 And with that she waltzed up to a grand piano 
 which stood in a corner of the room, and sat down and 
 played the opening bars of George Grossmith's well- 
 known song, ' Have you seen me Dance the Polka ?' 
 
318 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 And then, suddenly jumping up, she danced wildly round 
 the room singing the words of the song all the while at 
 the top of her voice. I believe she would have danced 
 away until she fell from exhaustion had not Miss Brand 
 suddenly interposed, and putting her hand on her 
 shoulder, bade her stop, which she did instantly. 
 
 ' That will do, my dear,' said she ; ' and now, please, 
 say good-bye to Mr. Hicks, and go and change your 
 habit, and we'll have tea.' 
 
 To my astonishment. Miss Mosetta — all signs of 
 excitement now gone — held out her hand to me, and 
 walked quietly out of the room without a word. 
 
 ' Miss Mosetta is a little eccentric,' coolly remarked 
 Miss Brand, as the door shut on that lady. (' You 
 never spoke a truer word than that, old girl,' thought 
 I.) ' And now, Mr. Hicks,' she continued, ' let us talk 
 business once more. You have seen Miss Mosetta. Do 
 you agree to my proposals ?' 
 
 I need scarcely tell you, gentlemen, that I agreed to 
 everything, and what is more, had it all down in black 
 and white on the spot. I was to have two guineas a 
 morning for my services, and I kindly consented to sell 
 my chestnut horse, Rufus, to Miss Mosetta for one 
 hundred and fifty guineas down. (If he hadn't been 
 fired all round, I'd have asked two hundred. As it was, 
 I hadn't the cheek.) Miss Brand wrote me a cheque on 
 the spot for the amount, and thirty guineas extra for 
 a saddle and bridle, after which I took my departure 
 with my tongue in my cheek and my cheque in my 
 pocket, having pledged my word to ride up to the house 
 at 10.30 the following morning to take Miss Mosetta 
 out for her first ride. 
 
MISS MOSETTA 319 
 
 It was the best day's work I ever did in my life, and 
 I drank a whole bottle of sham when I got home instead 
 of my usual cup of tea, by way of celebrating the event. 
 Well, gents, true to my promise, punctually at the hour 
 appointed on the morrow I turned up at Belvidere 
 House with the horses, and having hoisted the lady 
 with the lovely legs into the saddle (she gave such a 
 bound, I remember, that she nearly tumbled over the 
 other side), and showed her how to hold the reins, away 
 we went, old Rufus ambling away in his very best 
 rocking-horse style. Well, the game went on without 
 a check for a couple of months. I drew my fourteen 
 guineas a week as regular as clockwork, besides what I 
 charged Miss M. for Rufus's keep, hire of a man to look 
 after him, etc. She got more eccentric every day, and 
 the things she used to say to me sometimes you'd never 
 believe. At last one day things came to a climax. 
 Shall I ever forget it ? It was in the spring, and I 
 had taken her for a ride to some woods some miles 
 from Tubbeville to show her the primroses. I was 
 just remarking what a fine sight it was, and how 
 pretty the wood looked, when she suddenly screamed 
 out : 
 
 ' Who killed Cock Robin ? I, said the Sparrow, with 
 my bow and arrow. Hicksey, my loved, loved Hicksey 
 Wicksey, have you ever felt the darts of Cupid ? 
 Because, if you haven't, feel 'em now and tell me you 
 love me.' 
 
 Here was the chance I had long dreamt of come at 
 last. Was I to throw it away ? Certainly not ! Go 
 in and win, Harrington Hicks, whispered my evil genius 
 in my ear. 
 
320 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 ' I do r I replied with as much fervour as I could, 
 putting my hand on my heart, as I had seen lovers do 
 on the stage. 
 
 And upon my word I meant what I said. I did love 
 her — at least, if I did not love her, I loved her money, 
 so it was all the same. 
 
 Directly I uttered those two little words, my lady 
 threw her arms round my neck and pretty nearly 
 dragged me off my horse. The way she went on was a 
 caution. I shall be devilish glad when the knot's tied, 
 I thought to myself, if it's going to be like this every 
 day. Well, I quieted her down at last, and then 
 nothing must satisfy her but that we must exchange 
 rings. With that she tore off her glove, and taking a 
 magnificent diamond hoop ring off her finger, gave it 
 to me, which, as it was much too small to go on my 
 hand, I put in my pocket. I then gave her mine in 
 exchange, a wretched old bloodstone signet. Not a bad 
 swap for me, thought I, as she first kissed it fondly, and 
 then put it on her finger, for which it was, of course, 
 much too large. I thought we should never have got 
 home that day ; however, at last the ride came to an 
 end, and I hastened back to dinner, half beside myself 
 with joy and excitement. Such plans I formed for the 
 future, you can hardly believe — a yacht at Cowes ; a 
 moor in Scotland ; a long string of racehorses in training. 
 I possessed 'em all, bless you, and a house in Belgrave 
 Square into the bargain. 
 
 Alas ! how suddenly and ruthlessly our hopes are 
 sometimes shattered in this world ! 
 
 The next morning I was seated at breakfast, when 
 the servant came in with a note in her hand. 
 
MISS MOSETTA 321 
 
 'From Belvidere,^ she said, 'and the gentleman's 
 waiting for an answer.^ 
 
 ' From Miss M., of course," thinks I, my hand 
 trembling so that I spilt my coffee all over my legs. 
 
 Alas ! I was wrong for once. It was not from my 
 fiancee at all, but from Miss Brand, and it ran thus : 
 
 ' Belvidere. 
 ' Sir, 
 
 ' Instantly return Miss Mosetta's diamond ring 
 
 by bearer, or I shall place the matter in the hands of 
 
 the poHce without delay. The ring you had the 
 
 impudence to give Miss Mosetta, my butler, who brings 
 
 this, will hand you. I need scarcely say that after 
 
 your disgraceful conduct of yesterday you will not be 
 
 allowed to go out riding again with Miss Mosetta ; indeed, 
 
 my butler has orders, if you ever dare show your face 
 
 near my house, to give you in charge immediately. 
 
 ' SopiioNiA Braxd. 
 
 ' P.S. — I will make arrangements during the day for 
 the horse I purchased from you on Miss Mosetta's 
 account to be removed to other stables.' 
 
 And that, gents, was the last I heard of Miss 
 Mosetta. 
 
 ' The young woman was mad, it is to be presoomed,' 
 remarked Farmer Peewit. 
 
 ' Mad as a hatter, though of course I was not aware 
 of it at the time,"" replied the virtuous Mr. Hicks. 
 ' And,' he added, ' Miss Brand was her keeper. I didn't 
 know that either until afterwards.' 
 
 21 
 
322 ANNALS OF THE HORSE-SHOE CLUB 
 
 Note by Author. 
 
 The injured Mr. Hicks had hardly concluded his 
 experience with Miss Mosetta, when Bob Magnum, who 
 had left the room for a moment, came back in a state 
 of great excitement. 
 
 ' Gentlemen,' he exclaimed, ' Fve some news for you. 
 The frost's breaking up at last. There's a nice rain 
 falling, and one of the pipes 's just burst.' 
 
 Sure enough next morning when I woke it w^as rain- 
 ing hard. Later on I received a telegram from my 
 hunting friends saying they would be back in time for 
 dinner. I knew then that I had paid my last visit to 
 the Horse-shoe Club. 
 
 THE END 
 
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 Pleasure Trip on Continent 
 
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 The Moonstone. By Wilkie Collins. 
 
 The Woman in White. By Wilkie Collins. 
 
 'i'he Dead Secret. By Wilkie Collins. 
 
 Man and Wife. By Wilkie Collins. 
 
 NOVELS. 
 
 The New Magdalen. By Wilkie Collins. 
 Held in Bondage. ByOuiDA. 
 Moths. By OUIDA. I Puck. By OUIDA. 
 Under Two Flags. By Ouid.\. 
 Peg Woffington ; and Christie Johnstone. By 
 Charles Reade. [Rhadh. 
 
 The Cloister and the Hearth. By Charlks 
 Never Too Late to Mend. By Charles Readh. 
 Hard Cash. By Chari.es Reaue. 
 Foul Play. Bv Charles Readk. 
 New Arabian Nights. By R. L. .Sievenson, 
 The Old Factory. By William Westall. 
 The Downfall. By E. Zola. 
 
 THE PICCADILLY NOVELS. 
 
 Library Editions of Novels, raauv Illu 
 By Mrs. ALEXANDER. 
 
 Sarbaia. 
 
 A Fight with Fate. 
 
 A Golden Autumn. 
 
 Mrs.Crichton'sCreditor. 
 
 The Stsp-mother. 
 
 ■Valerie's Fate 
 A Life Interest. 
 Mona's Choice. 
 By Woman's Wit. 
 The Cost of Her Pride. 
 
 A Missing Hero. 
 By F. M. ALLEN.— Green as Grass, 
 
 By GRANT ALLEN. 
 Philistla. I Babylon. The Great Taboo 
 Strange Stories 
 
 For Maimia's Sake, 
 In all Shades. 
 The Beckoning Hand 
 The Devil's Die. 
 This Mortal Coil. 
 The Teats of Shem. 
 By M. AN DERSOIS'.— Othello's Occunation 
 By a. WEBB APPLE TON. 
 
 SAXb CCUCl'u^ilOIU, 
 
 Dumarcsq's Daughter. 
 
 Duchess of Powysland. 
 
 Blood Royal. 
 
 I. Greet s Masterpiece. 
 
 The Scallywag. 
 
 At Mari-.et Value. 
 
 Under Scaled Orders. 
 
 trated, crown 8vn, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. each. 
 By EDWIN L. ARNOLD. 
 Phra the Phoenician. | Constable of St. Nicholae. 
 
 By ART EM US WARD. 
 Artemus Ward Complate. 
 
 By ROBERT BARR. 
 In a Steamer Chair. 1 A Woman lutervenei. 
 From Whose Bourne. | Revenue ! 
 
 By FRANK BARRETT. 
 
 Woman of IronBracelets. 
 Fettered for Life. 
 The Harding Scandal. 
 
 By * BELLE.'— Vasliti and Esther. 
 
 By Sir W. BESANT and J. RICE. 
 
 Undar a Strange Mask. 
 A Missirg Witness. 
 Was She Jastined t 
 
 Ready-TiIoneyMortiboy. 
 Mv Little Girl. 
 With Harp and Crown. 
 This Son of Vulcan. 
 The Golden Butterfly. 
 Thfl Monk.'} of Thoiema. 
 
 By Cella's Arbour. 
 Chaplain of the Fleet 
 The Seamy Side. 
 The Case of Mr. Lncraft. 
 In Trafalsar s Pay. 
 The Tea Tears' Tenant 
 
CHATTO & WfNDUS, Pablishers, in St. Martin's Lane, London, WX. 37 
 
 The Piccadilly (3/6) KovELS—continued. 
 
 By Sir WALTER BESANT. 
 
 All Sorts & Conditions. 1 Armorel of Lyonesse. 
 The Captains' Room. I S.Katherlnes by Tower 
 - - ■ - - - . > Verbena Canielha, &c. 
 
 The Ivory Gate. 
 
 All in a Garden Fair 
 Dorothy Forster. 
 Uncle Jack. | Holy Rose 
 World Went Well Then. 
 Children of Gibcon. 
 Herr Paulus. 
 For Faith and Freedom. 
 To Call Her Mine. 
 The Revolt of Man. 
 The Bell of St. Paul's 
 
 The Rebel Queen. 
 Dreams of Avarice. 
 In Deacon's Orders. 
 The Master Craftsman. 
 The City of Refuge. 
 A Fount?iin Sealed. 
 The Changeling. 
 The Fourth Generation 
 
 The Charm. 
 
 By AMBROSE BIERCE— InMidst of Life. 
 
 By HAROLD BINDLOSS. AinsUe's Ju Jvi. 
 
 By M. McD. BODKIN. 
 
 Dora Myrl. I Shillelagh and Shamrock. 
 
 By PAUL BOURQET.— A Living Lie. 
 By J. D. BI^AYSHAW.— SlumSiliiouettej. 
 By ROBERT BUCHANAN. 
 
 Shadow of the Sword. 1 The New Abelard. 
 A Child of Nature. Matt. | Rachel Dens 
 
 God and the Man. Master of the i^ine. 
 
 Martyrdom of Madelina \ The Heir of Linne. 
 
 Love Me for Ever. 
 Annan Water. 
 Foxglove Manor. 
 The Charlatan. 
 
 Woman and the Man. 
 Red and White Heather, 
 Lady Kilpatrlck. 
 Andromeda. 
 
 R. W. CHAMBERS.-The King in Yellow. 
 By J. M. CMAPPLE.— The Minor Chord. 
 By HALL CAINE. 
 
 Shadow of a Crime. | Deemster. | Son of Hagar. 
 By AUSTIN CLARE.-By Rise of River. 
 
 By Mrs. ARCHER CLiVE 
 
 P»ul FerroU. I Why Paul FerroU Killed his Wife. 
 
 By ANNE COATES.—Rie's Diary. 
 
 By MACLAREN COBBAN. 
 
 The Red Sultan. | The Burden of Isabel. 
 
 By WILKIE COLLINS. 
 
 Armadale. I AfterDark. 
 No Name. ) Antonina 
 Basil. I Hide and Seek. 
 The Dead Secret. 
 Queen of Hearts. 
 My Miscellanies. 
 The Woman in White. 
 The Law and the Lady. 
 The Haunted Hotel. 
 The Moonstone. 
 Man and Wife. 
 Poor Miss Finch, 
 Miss or I«Irs 
 
 The New Magdalen. 
 The Frozen Deep. 
 The Two Destinies. 
 ' I Say No.' 
 Little Novels. 
 The Fallen Leaves. 
 Jezebel's Daughter. 
 The Black Robe. 
 Heart and Science. 
 The Evil Genius. 
 The Legacy of Cain. 
 A Rogue's Life. 
 Blind Love. 
 
 By MORT. & FRANCES COLLINS. 
 
 Blacksmith & Scholar. I You Play rr.e False. 
 The Village Comedy. \ Midnight to Midnight. 
 M. J. COLQUHOUN.-Everyln^h Soldier. 
 
 By HERBERT COMF>TON. 
 The Inimitable Mrs. Massingham. 
 
 By E.H.COOPER. — Geoffory Hamilton. 
 By V. C. COTES.— Two Giriaon a Barge. 
 
 By C. E. CRADDOCK. 
 The Prophet of the Great Smoky Mountains. 
 Kis Vanished Star. 
 
 By H. N. CRELL5N. 
 Romances of tlo Cld SeiiigUo. 
 
 By MATT CRIAl. 
 The Advent-ares of a Fair Rebel. 
 
 By S. R. CROCKETT and others. 
 Tales of Our Coast. 
 
 By B. M. CROKER. 
 
 Diana Harrington. 
 
 Proper Pride. 
 
 A Faipllj' Hkoncs!?. 
 
 Pretty Mis; Ncvllis. 
 
 A Blrc} o« F.'V2<»*B0, 
 
 Mr. <rsT«j!j. 
 
 Vlll&^e Tfek-3. 
 
 Boffie Oac S!s5. ! Jassn?, 
 
 Is)f»tu»tloa. 
 
 The Real Lady Hilda. 
 I Married or Single ? 
 I Two Masters. 
 j JntheKlngdomofHerry 
 1 Jntorfcrencc. 
 I A Ihlrd FerKsn, 
 
 Bavoad the Pal«, 
 ! Misa B&lmft'Ke'? ?»st. 
 ' aereftoe. 
 
 By ALPHONSE DAUDET. 
 
 The Evangelist ; or, Port SrUvation. 
 
 H. C. DAVIDSON Mr. Sadler's Daughters. 
 
 By HARRY DE WINDT. 
 True Tales of Travel and Adventure. 
 By DICK DONOVAN. 
 
 Tales of Terror. 
 Chronicles of Michael 
 Danevitch. [Detective. 
 Tyler Tatlock, Private 
 
 Man from Manchester, 
 Records of Vincent Trill 
 The Mystery of 
 Jamaica Terrace. 
 
 Deacon Brodie 
 By RICHARD DOWLINQ. 
 Old Corcoran s Money. 
 
 By A. CONAN DOYLE. 
 The Firm of Girdlestone. 
 
 By S. JEANNETTE DUNCAN. 
 
 A Daughter 01 To-day. I Vernon's Aunt. 
 
 By ANNIB EDWARDES. 
 
 Archie Lovell. | A Plaster Saint. 
 
 By Q. S. EDWARDS.— Snazellepariila, 
 
 By Q. MANVILLE FENN 
 
 Cursed by a Fortune 
 The Case of Ailsa Gray 
 Commodore Junk. 
 The New Mistress. 
 Witness to the Deed. 
 The Tiger Lily. 
 The White Virgin. 
 Black Blood. 
 Double Cunning 
 
 A Fluttered Dovecote. 
 Zing of the Castle. 
 Master of Ceremonies. 
 The Man with a Shadow 
 One Maid's Mischief. 
 Story of Antony Grace. 
 This"^Man's Wife. 
 In Jeopardy. fn'ng. 
 A Woman Worth Win- 
 
 By PERCY FiTZGERALD.— Fatal Zero 
 By R. E. FRANCILLON. , 
 
 One by One. I Ropes of Sand. ' 
 
 A Dog and his Shadow. Jack Doyle's Daughter. 
 
 A Real Queen. j 
 
 By HAROLD FREDERIC. 
 Seths Brother's Wife. | The Lawton Girl. 
 
 By GILBERT GAUL. 
 AStrangeManuscript Found in a Copper Cylinder. 
 By PAUL GAULOT.— The Red Shirts. 
 By CHARLES GIBBON. 
 Robin Gray. The Golden Shaft. 
 
 Loving a Dream, The Braes of Yarrow. 
 
 Of High Degree 
 
 By E. GLANVILLE. 
 The Lost Heiress. I The Golden Rock. 
 
 Fair Colonist | Fossicker | Tales from the Veld, 
 
 By E. J. GOODMAN. 
 The Fate of Herbert Wavne. 
 
 By Rev. S. BARING GOULD. 
 Red Spider. I Eve. 
 
 By ALFRED A. GRACE. 
 Tales of a Dying liacc. 
 CECIL GRIFFITH.-Corlnthia Marazion. 
 
 By A. CLAVERiNG GUNTER. 
 A Florida Enchantment. 
 
 By OWEN HALL. 
 The Track of a Storm. | Jetsam. 
 
 "By COSMO HAMILTON 
 Glamour of Impossible. | Through a Keyhole. 
 
 By THOMAS HARDY. 
 Under the Greenwood Tree. 
 
 By BRET HARTE. 
 A Waif of the Plains. , A. Protegee of Jack 
 A V/ard of the Golden I Hamlin s. 
 
 Clarence. 
 Barker's Luck. 
 Devil's Ford, [cel.sior.' 
 The Crusade of the ' Es- 
 Three Partners. 
 Gabriel Conroy. 
 
 Gate. [Springs 
 
 A Sappho of Green 
 Col. Starbottles Client. 
 Susy. I Sally Dows. 
 Eell-Ringer of Angel's. 
 Tales of Trail and Town 
 
 By JULIAN HAWTHORNE. 
 G9.rth. I Dust. 1 Beatrix Randolph. 
 
 Ellice Qucntin. I David Foiadextsr'a BlS' 
 
 Sebastian Strome. | appearance. 
 
 Fortune's Fool. I Sccciro cf uaisera-. 
 
 Bv Sir A. HELP».--XvRn«JoBlren. 
 By I. tlEN0ERSON.~AiFftth*fftg«. 
 By a. A. HRNTV. , 
 
 Parc'thy s DcflSle. 1 The Qusee's Onp. « 
 
28 CHATTO & WINDUS, Publishers, in St. Martin's Lane, London, W.C. 
 
 By MURRAY and HERMAN. 
 
 The Bishops' Bible. I Paul Jones s Aliaa. 
 
 One Traveller Returns. | 
 
 By HUME NiSBET.-' Bail Up I' 
 By W. E. NORRIS. 
 Saint Ann's. I Billy Bellew. 
 
 MiES Wentworth s Idea. 
 By Q. OHNET. 
 A Weird Gift. | Love's Depths, 
 
 By Mrs. OLIPHANT.-The Sorcerest. 
 By OUIDA. 
 Held in Bondage. In a Winter City. 
 
 Strathmore. | Chandos. Friendship 
 Under Two Flags. 
 
 The Piccadilly (3/6) Novej^s— -continued. 
 By JOHN HILL.— The Common Ancestor. 
 
 By TIQHE H0PKIN5. 
 
 'Twixt Love and Duty. | Nugents of Carriconna. 
 The Incomplete Adventurer. | Nell Haffenden. 
 
 VICTOR HUGO The Outlaw of Iceland. 
 
 FERGUS HUME.-Lady from Nowhere. 
 
 By Mrs. HUNGERFORD. 
 
 Marvel. .-,-^-^^ 
 
 A Point of Conscience. 
 
 A Maiden ali Forlorn. 
 I The Coming of Chloe. 
 1 Nora Creina. 
 I An Anxious Moment. 
 
 April's Lady. 
 
 Peter s Wife. 
 
 Lovice. 
 
 A Modern Circe. 
 Lady Patty. 
 A Mental strugsrle. 
 Lady 'Verner's Flight. 
 The Red-House Mystery 
 The Three Graces. 
 Professors Experiment. , 
 
 By Mrs. ALFRED HUNT. 
 The Leaden Casket. 1 Sell Condemned, 
 That Other Person. 1 Mrs. JuUet. 
 
 By R. ASHE K 5 NG. -A Drawn Game. 
 
 By GEORGE LAMBERT. 
 
 The President of Boravia. 
 
 By EDMOND LEPELLETIER. 
 
 Madame Sans Gene. 
 
 By ADAM LI LB URN. A Tragedy in Marble 
 
 By HARRY LINDSAY. 
 
 Rhoda Roberts. | The Jacobite. 
 
 By HENRY W. LUCY. -Gideon Fleyce. 
 By E. LYNN LINTON. 
 
 Patricia Kemball 
 Under which Lord? 
 'My Love I' | lone. 
 Paston Carew. 
 Sowmc the Wind. 
 With a Silken Thread. 
 The World Well Lost. 
 
 By JUSTIN McCarthy. 
 
 The Atonement of Learn 
 
 Dundas. 
 The One Too Many. 
 Dulcie Everton. 
 Pvebel of the Family. 
 An Octave of Fnends. 
 
 Donna Quixote. 
 
 Maid of Athens. 
 
 The Comet of a Season. 
 
 The Dictator. 
 
 Red Diamonds. 
 
 The Riddle Ring. 
 
 The Three Disgraces, 
 
 McCarthy. 
 
 The Royal Christopher 
 
 A Fair Saxon 
 Linley Rochiord. j 
 
 Dear Lady Disdain. 
 Camiola. 1 
 
 Waterdale Neighbours. ' 
 My Enemy's Daughter. 
 Miss Misanthrone. 
 
 By JUSTIN H 
 
 A London Legend. | 
 
 By GEORGE MACDONALD. 
 
 Heather and Snow. | Phantasies. 
 
 W. H. MALLOCK — The New Republic. 
 p. &.V. MARGUERITTE. -The Disaster. 
 By L. T. MEADE. 
 
 A Soldier of Fortune. I On Brink of a Chasm. 
 In an Iron Grip. | The Siren. 
 
 Dr. Ramsey's Patient. | The Way of a Woman. 
 Ths'Voice of theCharmer I A Son of IshmHel. 
 An Adventuress. | The Blue Diamond. 
 
 By LEONARD MERRICK. 
 This Stage of Fools. i Cynthia. 
 
 By BERTRAM MITFORD. 
 The Gun-Runner. I The King s Assegai. 
 
 LuckofGerardRidgelev. | Rensh. Fanning'sQuest 
 
 By Mrs. MOLESWORTH, 
 Hitlnercourt Rectory. 
 
 By J. E. MUDDOCK. 
 Maid Marian and Robin Hood. | Golden Idol. 
 Basile the Jester. I Young Lochinvar. 
 
 By D. CHRISTIE MURRAY. 
 
 A Life's Atonement 
 
 Joseph's Coat. 
 
 Coals of Fire. 
 
 Old Blazer s Hero. 
 
 ■Val Strange. | Hearts. 
 
 A Model Father. 
 
 By the Gate of the Sea. 
 
 A Bit of Human Nature. 
 
 First Person Singular. 
 
 Cynic Fortune 
 
 mi Own Gho;t. 
 
 The Way of the World. 
 BobMartin's Little Girl 
 Time's Revenges. 
 A Wasted Crime. 
 In Direst Peril. 
 Mount De.spair. 
 A Capful o Nails. 
 Tales in Prose & Verse 
 A Race for Millions. 
 This Little World. 
 
 Idalia. [Gage. 
 
 Cecil Castlemaine a 
 Tricotrin. | Puck. 
 FoUe Farine. 
 A Dog of Flanders. 
 Pascarel. | Signa. 
 Princess Napraxine. 
 Two Wooden Shoes. 
 
 Moths. I RnfBno. 
 Pipistrello. | Ariadne. 
 A 'Village Commune. 
 Bimbi. | Wanda. 
 Frescoes. 1 Othmar. 
 In Maremma. 
 Byrlin. | Guilderoy. 
 Santa Barbara. 
 Two Offenders. 
 
 The Talk of the Towa. 
 Holiday Tasks. 
 For Cash OnJy. 
 The Burnt Million. 
 The Word and the WilL 
 Sunny Stories. 
 A Trying Pationt. 
 A Modern Dick Whit- 
 tington. 
 
 The Waters of Edera. 
 
 By MARGARET A. PAUL. 
 
 Gentle and Simple. 
 
 By JAAIES PAYN. 
 
 Lost Sir Massingberd. , "' ~ '" 
 The Family Scapegrace 
 A County Family. 
 Less Black than We're 
 
 Painted. 
 A Confldential Agent. 
 A Grape from a Thorn. 
 In Peril and Privation. 
 Mystery of Mirbridge. 
 High Spirits. jBy Proxy. 
 
 By WILL PAYNE.— Jerry the Dreamer. 
 
 By Mrs. CAMPBELL PRAED. 
 
 Outlaw and Lawmaker, i Mrs. Tregaskiss. 
 Christina Chard. I Nulma. | Madame Izan. 
 
 ' As a Watch in the Night.' 
 
 By E. C. PRICE — Valentina. 
 
 By RICHARD PRYCE. 
 
 Miss Maxwell's Affections. 
 
 By Mrs. J. H. RIDDELL. 
 
 Weird Stories. | A Rich Man's Daughter. 
 
 By AMELIE RIVES. 
 
 Barbara Dering. I Meriel. 
 
 By F. W. ROBINSON. 
 
 The Hands of Justice. | Woman in the Dark. 
 
 By ALBERT ROSS. -A Sugar Princess. 
 Bv HERBERT RUSSELL. True Blue. 
 
 By CHARLES READE. 
 
 Peg WofBngton ; and Griffith Gaunt. 
 
 Christie Johnstone. 
 Hard Cash. 
 Cloister & the Hearth. 
 Never Too Late to Mend 
 The Course of True 
 
 Love ; and Single- 
 heart & Doubleface. 
 Autobiography of a 
 
 Thief; Jack of all 
 
 Trades ; A Hero and 
 
 a Martyr ; and The 
 
 Wandering Heir. 
 
 J. RUNCIMAN.-SkippersandSheUbacki, 
 By W. CLARK RUSSELL 
 
 Love Little, Love Long. 
 The Double Marriage. 
 Foul Play. 
 
 Put T'rself in His Place 
 A Terrible Temptation. 
 A Simpleton. 
 A Woman Hater. 
 The Jilt, & otherStories ; 
 & Good Stories of Man. 
 A Perilous Secret. 
 Readiana ; and Bible 
 Characters. 
 
 Round the Galley-Fire. 
 In the Middle Watch. 
 On the Fo'k'sle Head 
 A Voyage to the Cape. 
 Book for the Hammock. 
 Mysteryof 'Ocean Star' 
 Jenny Harlowe. 
 An Ocean Tragedy. 
 A Tale of Two Ttmnels. 
 
 My Shipmate Louise. 
 Alone onWideWide Se», 
 The Phantom Death. 
 Is He the Man ? 
 Good Ship Mohock.' 
 The Convict Ship. 
 Heart of Oak. 
 The Tale of the Ten. 
 The Last Entry. «. 
 
 The Death Ship. 
 By DORA RUSSELL. -Drift ef FMf. 
 
CHATTO & WINDUS, J'ublishers, iii St. Martin's Lane, London, W.C. ap 
 
 The Piccadilly (3/6) Nov ei.s— continued. 
 BAYLE ST. JOHN A Levantine Family. 
 
 By ADELINE SERGEANT. 
 
 Dr. Endicott s Experiment. 
 Under False Pretences. 
 
 By GEORGE R. SIMS. 
 
 Dagonet Abroad. I In London's Heart 
 
 Once Upon a Christmas | Mary Jane's Memoirs. 
 
 Time. I Mary Jane Married. 
 
 Without the Limelight. The Small-part Lady. 
 Rogues and Vagabonds. 1 A Blind Marriage. 
 
 By HAWLEY SMART. 
 
 Without Love or Licence. I The Outsider. 
 The Master of Rathkelly. Beatrice & Benedick. 
 Long Odds. I A Racing Rubber. 
 
 By J. MOYR SMITH. 
 The Prince of Argolis. 
 
 By T. W. SPEIGHT. 
 
 A Secret of the Sea. I A Minion of the Moon. 
 The Grey Monk. | Secret Wyvern Towers. 
 
 The Master of Trenance 1 The Doom of Siva. 
 The Web of Fate. 1 As it was Written. 
 
 The Strange Experiences of Mr. Verschoyle. 
 By ALAN ST. AUBYN^ 
 
 A Fellow of Trinity. 
 The Junior Dean. 
 Master ol St. Benedict's. 
 To his Own Master. 
 Gallantry Bower. 
 In Face of the World. 
 Orchard Damerel. 
 
 The Tremlett Diamonds. 
 The Wooing of May 
 A Tragic Honeymoon. 
 A Proctor's Wooing. 
 Fortune's Gate. 
 Bonnie M.ag^ie Lauder. 
 Mary Unwin. 
 
 Mrs. Dunbar's Secret. 
 By JOHN STAFFORD.— Doris and I. 
 
 By R. STEPHENS. — The Cruciform Mark. 
 
 By R. NEILSON STEPHENS. 
 
 Philip Winwood. 
 
 R. A. STERN DALE. -The Afghan Knife. 
 
 R. L. STEVENSON.— Tlie Suicide Club. 
 
 By FRANK STOCKTON. 
 The Young Master of Hyson Hall. 
 By SUNDOWNER. Told by the Taffrail. 
 By ANNIE THOMAS.— The Sirens Web. 
 BERTHA THOMAS.— The Violin Player 
 
 By FRANCES E. TROLLOPE 
 
 Like Ships upon Sea. I Mabels Progress. 
 Anne Furness. I 
 
 By ANTHONY TROLLOPE. 
 
 The Way we Live Now. I Scarboroagh's Family. 
 Frau Frohmann. The Land Leaguers. 
 
 Marion Fay. I 
 
 By IVAN TURGENIEFF, &.C. 
 Stories from Foreign Novelists. 
 
 By MARK 
 
 Choice Works. 
 Library of Humour. 
 The Innocents Abroad. 
 Roughing It ; and The 
 
 Inuocents at Home. 
 A Tramp Abroad. 
 The American Claimant. 
 AdventuresTomSawyer 
 Tom Sawyer Abroad. 
 Tom Sawyer, Detective 
 
 TWAIN. 
 
 Pudd'nhead Wilson. 
 The Gilded Age. 
 Prince and the Pauper. 
 Life on the Mississippi. 
 The Adventures of 
 
 Huckleberry Finn. 
 A Yankee at the Court 
 
 of King Arthur. 
 Stolen White Elephant 
 £1,000,000 Bank-note. 
 
 C. C. F.-TYTLER.— Mistres.-i Judith. 
 
 By SARAH TYTLER. 
 
 WhatShe CameThrough , Mrs. Carmichael's God- 
 Buried Diamonds. 
 The Blackliall Ghosts. 
 The Macdonald Lass. 
 Witch- Wife. | Sapphira 
 
 deases. 
 Rachel Langton. 
 A Honeymoon's EcUpsa, 
 A Yonnjr Dragon. 
 
 By ALLEN UPWARD. 
 
 The Queen against Owen. 
 
 By ALBERT D. VANDAM. 
 
 A Court Tragedy. 
 
 By E. A. VIZETELLY.-The Scorpion. 
 By F. WARDEN.— Joan, the Curate. 
 By CY W A RAl A N.-Express Messenger. 
 
 By A. WERNER. 
 
 Chapenga's Whits Man. 
 
 By WILLIA.M WESTALL. 
 
 The Old Factory. 
 Red Ry vington. 
 Ralph Norbreck'sTrust 
 Trust-money 
 Sons of Belial. 
 Roy of Key's Court-. 
 V/ith the Red Eagle. 
 Strange Crimes (Tru« 
 Stories). 
 
 For Honour and Life 
 A Woman Tempted Him 
 Her Two Millions. 
 Two Pinches of SnufE. 
 Higel Fortescue. 
 Biroh Dene. 
 The Phantom City. 
 A Queer P.acd. 
 Ben Clough. 
 
 By ATHA WESTBURY. 
 The Shadow of Hilton Fernbrook. 
 By C. J. WILLS.— An Easygoing FeUow. 
 
 By JOHN STRANGE WINTER. 
 
 Cavalry Life ; and Regimental Legends. 
 A Soldier's Children. 
 
 By E. ZOLA. 
 The Joy of Life. | His Masterpiece. 
 
 The Fortune of the Rougons. 
 Abbe Mouret's Transaression. 
 The Conquest of Plassans. | Germinal. 
 The Honour of t.'ie Army. 
 The Downfall. I His Excellency. 
 
 The Dream. I Money. Tbe Dram-Shop. 
 Dr. Pascal. I Lourdes. Rome. I Paris. 
 The Fat and the Thin. 1 Fruitfulricss. | Work 
 By *ZZ. ' — A Nineteenth Century Miracle, 
 
 CHEAP EDITIONS OF POPULAR NOVELS. 
 
 By ARTEMUS WARD 
 
 Artemus Ward Complete. 
 
 By Mrs. ALEXANDER. 
 
 Maid. Wife, or Widow? I A Life Interest. 
 Blind Fate. Mona's Choice. 
 
 Valerie's Fate. | By Woman's Wit. 
 
 By GRANT ALLEN. 
 
 Post 8vo, illustrated boards, 2s. each 
 
 Dumaresq s Daughter. 
 Duchess of Powysland. 
 Blood Royal. [piece. 
 Ivan Greet's Mastei*- 
 The Scallywa<;. 
 This Mortal Coil. 
 At Market Value. 
 Under Sealed Orderi. 
 
 By E. LESTER ARNOLD. 
 
 Phra the Phoenician. 
 
 Philistla. I Babylon. 
 Strange Stories. 
 For Maimie's Sake. 
 In all Shades. 
 The Beckoning Hand. 
 The Devil's Die. 
 The Tents of Shem. 
 The Great Taboo 
 
 BY FRANK BARRETT. 
 
 Fettered for Life. 
 Little Lady Linton. 
 Between Life & Death. 
 Sin of Olga Zassouiich. 
 Folly Morrison. 
 Lieut. Barnabas. 
 Honest Davie. 
 A Prodigal's Progress. 
 
 By Sir W. BESANT and J. RICE. 
 
 Found Guilty. 
 A Recoiling Vengeance. 
 For Love and Honour. 
 John Ford, &c. 
 Woman of Iron Brace t» 
 The Harding Scandal. 
 A Missing Witness. 
 
 Ready-Money Mortiboy 
 My Little Girl. 
 With Harp and Crown, 
 This Son of Vulcan. 
 The Golden Butterfly. 
 The Monks of Thelema. 
 
 By Celia's Arbour. 
 Chaplain of the Fleet. 
 The Seamy Side. 
 The Case of Mr. Lucraft. 
 In Trafalgar's Bay. 
 The Ten Years Tenant. 
 
30 CHATTO & VVINDUS, Publishers, in St. Martin's Lane, Londcn, W.C. 
 
 Two-Shilling Novels — continued. 
 
 , >By Sir WALTER BESANT. 
 
 Ail "Sorts and Condi- The Bell of St. Paul's. 
 
 Sorts 
 
 tions 0* Men. 
 The Captains Room, 
 All in a Gai-den Fair. 
 Dorothy Forster. 
 Uncle Jack. 
 The World Went Very 
 
 Well Then. 
 Children of Giheon. 
 Herr Paulus. 
 For Faith and Freedom. 
 To Call Her Mine. 
 The Master Craftsman. 
 
 By AATBROSS BIERCE. 
 
 In the Midst of Liie. 
 
 By FREDERICK BOYLE. 
 
 Camn Notes. I Chronicles of No-man's 
 
 Savage Life. ! Land. 
 
 BY BRET HARTE. 
 
 The Holy Rose. 
 Armorel of Lyonesse. 
 S. Katharine's by Tower 
 Verbena Camellia Ste- 
 
 phanotis. 
 Tlie Ivory Gate. 
 The Rebel Queen. 
 Beyond the Dreams of 
 
 Avarice. 
 The Revolt of Man. 
 In Deacon's Orders. 
 The City of Refuge, 
 
 Californian Stories. 
 Gabriel Conroy. 
 Luck of Roaring Camp. 
 Aa Heiress of Red Dog. 
 
 By ROBERT BUCHANAN. 
 Ehadow of the Swoi d. | The Martyrdom of Ma- 
 
 Flip. I Maruja. 
 
 A Phyllis of the Sierras. 
 A Waif of the Plains. 
 Ward of Golden Gate, 
 
 A Child of Nature. 
 God and the Man. 
 Love Me for Ever. 
 Foxglove Manor. 
 Tlie Master of the Mine. 
 A1T13TI Water. 
 
 deline. 
 The New Abelard. 
 The Heir of Linne. 
 Woman and the Man. 
 Rachel Dene. | Matt. 
 Lady Kilpatrick. 
 
 By BUCHANAN and MURRAY. 
 
 The Charlatan. 
 
 By HALL CAINE. 
 
 The Shadow of a Crime. I The Deemster, 
 A Son of Hagar. I 
 
 By Commander CAMERON. 
 
 The Cruise of the 'Black Prince.' 
 
 By HAYDEN CARRUTH. 
 
 The Adventures of Jones. 
 
 By AUSTIN CLARE. 
 
 For the Love of a La.3S. 
 
 By Mrs. ARCHER CLIVE. 
 
 Paul Ferroll. 
 
 Why Paul FeiToU Killed his Wife. 
 
 By MACLAREN COBBAN. 
 
 The Cure of Souls. | The Red Sultan. 
 
 By C. ALLSTON COLLINS. 
 
 The Bar Sinister. 
 
 By MORT. & FRANCES COLLINS. 
 
 Sweet Anne Page. 
 Transmigi-ation. 
 From Midnight to Mid- 
 night. 
 A Fight with Fortune. 
 
 By WILKIE COLLINS 
 
 Sweet and Twentv. 
 The "Village Comedy. 
 You Play me False. 
 Blacksmith and Scholar 
 Frances. 
 
 Armadale, j AfterDark. 
 
 No Name, 
 
 Antonina. 
 
 Basil. 
 
 Hide and Seek, 
 
 The Dead Secret. 
 
 Oueen of Hearts. 
 
 Miss or Mrs. ? 
 
 The New Magdalen, 
 
 The Frozen Deep. 
 
 The Law and the Lady 
 
 The Two ijestinies. 
 
 The Haunted Hotel, 
 
 A Rogue's Life. 
 
 By M. J. COLQUHOUN. 
 
 Evsr? Jnsh a Soldier. 
 
 ■4 By C, EOBERT CRADDOCK, 
 !F^ Froptaet et the Ghrsat gmol&y MouatAitu, 
 
 By MATT CRIM. 
 
 My Miscellanies. 
 The Woman in White. 
 The Moonstone. 
 Man and Wife. 
 Poor Miss Finch. 
 The Fallen Leaves. 
 Jezebel's Dauc:hter, 
 The Black Robe. 
 Heart and Science, 
 ' I Say No I ' 
 The Evil Genius. 
 Little Novels. 
 Legacy of Cain, 
 Blind Love. 
 
 By H. N. CRELLiN. -Tales of the Caliph, 
 
 Bv B. M. CROJcfiR. 
 
 Pretty Miss Neville, 
 Diana Barrington. 
 'To Let 
 
 A Bird of Passage, 
 Proper Pride. 
 A Family Likeness. 
 A Third Person. 
 
 'Villcge Tales and Jungle 
 
 Tragedies. 
 Two Masters. 
 Mr. Jeryis. 
 The Real Lady Hilda. 
 Married or Single ? 
 Interference. 
 
 By ALPHONSE DAUDET, 
 
 The Evangelist ; or, Port Salvation. 
 
 By DICK DONOVAN. 
 
 In the Grip of the Law, 
 From Information Re- 
 ceived. 
 Tracked to Doom. 
 Link by Link 
 Suspicion Aroused, 
 Riddles Read. 
 
 The Man-Hunt 
 Tracked and Taken. 
 Caught at Last I 
 ■Wanted ! 
 Who Poisoned Hetty 
 
 Duncan ? 
 Man from Manchester. 
 A Detective's Triumphs 
 The Mystery of Jamaica Terrace. 
 The Chronicles of Michael Danevltch. 
 
 By Mrs. ANNIE EDWARDES. 
 
 A Point of Honour. | Archie Lovell. 
 
 By EDWARD EQQLESTON. 
 
 Roxv. 
 
 By G. MANVILLE FENN. 
 
 The New Mistress. I The Tiger Lily. 
 
 Witness to the Deed. 1 The White "Virgin. 
 
 By PERCY FITZGERALD. 
 
 Bella Donna. I Second Mrs. Tillotson, 
 
 Never Forgotten. Seventy - five Brooke 
 
 Polly. Street. 
 
 Fatal Zero. | The Lady of Brantome 
 
 By P. FITZGERALD and others. 
 
 Strange Secrets. 
 
 By R. E. FRANCILLON. 
 
 Olympia. 1 King or Knave? 
 
 One by One. Romances of the Law, 
 
 A Real Queen. Ropes of Sand. 
 
 Queen Cophetua, I A t>og and his Shadow 
 
 By HAROLD FREDERIC. 
 
 Seth's Brother's Wife, | The Lawton Girl. 
 
 Prefaced by Sir BARTLE FRERE. 
 
 Fandurang Hari. 
 
 By GILBERT GAUL. 
 
 A Strange Manuscript. 
 
 By CHARLES GIBBON. 
 
 Robin Gray. , In Honour Bound. 
 
 Fancy Free. ; Flower of the Forest 
 
 For Lack of Gold. The Braes of Yarrow. 
 
 What will World Say ? The Golden Shaft 
 
 Of High Degree 
 By Mead and Stream. 
 Loving a Dream, 
 A Hard Knot. 
 Hearts Delight, 
 Blood-Money. 
 
 Love and War, 
 For the King. 
 In Pastures Green. 
 Queen of the Meadow. 
 A Heart's Problem, 
 The Dead Heart. 
 
 By WILLIAM GILBERT. 
 
 James Dr&e. 
 
 By ERNEST GLANVILLE. 
 
 The Lost Heiress. I The Fossicker. 
 
 A Fair Colonist. 1 
 
 By Rev. S. BARING GOULD 
 
 Red Spider. 1 Eve. 
 
 By ANDREW HALLIDAY. 
 
 Evsi-y-day Papers. 
 
 By THOMAS HARDY. 
 
 TJndcr tho Greenwood Tree. 
 
 By JULIAN HAWTHORNE, 
 
 Garth. 
 Eliice Q^sntin. 
 Fortune's Port. 
 Mist C%dogs». 
 Ssbasti&n Istroia*. 
 
 Beatrix Randolplj 
 Love— or a Name. 
 David PolRdsster's Di»- 
 
 fcppearancs. 
 The Spectre 9f t»9 
 
 Q»ner», 
 
CHATTO &. WiNDUS, Pubiishers, iJ! St. Martin's Lane, London, W.C. 31 
 
 r\vo-SHJ.r.LiNG 'blovEi.s— continued. 
 
 By Sir ARTHUR HELPS. 
 
 Ivan de Biron. 
 
 By G. A. HENTY. 
 
 Rnjub tho Juggler. 
 
 By HEADON HILL. 
 
 Zambra the Detective. 
 
 By JOHN HILL. 
 
 Treason Felony. 
 
 By Mrs. CASHEL HOEY. 
 
 The Lover's Creed. 
 
 By Mrs. GEORGE HOOPER, 
 
 The House of Raby. 
 
 By Mrs. HUNQERFORD. 
 
 A Maiden all Forlorn. 
 
 In Dr.rance Vile. 
 
 Marvel. 
 
 A Mental Struggle. 
 
 A Modern Circe. 
 
 April's Lady. 
 
 Peter's Wife. 
 
 Lady Verner's Flight. 
 The Rsd-House Mystery 
 The Three Graces. 
 Unsatisfactory Lover. 
 Lady Patty. 
 Nora Creina. 
 Professor's Experiment. 
 
 By Mrs. ALFRED HUNT. 
 
 That Other Person. I The Leaden Casket. 
 
 Self-Condemned. | 
 
 By MARK KERSHAW. 
 
 Colonial Facts and Fictions. 
 
 By R. ASHE KING. 
 A Drawn Game. Passion's Slave. 
 
 ' The Wearing of the Bell Barry. 
 Green." 
 
 By EDAIOND LEPELLST5ER 
 
 Madame Sans-Gene. 
 
 By JOHN LEYS. 
 
 The Lindsays. 
 
 By E. LYNN LINTON. 
 
 The Atonement of Learn 
 
 Duiidss. 
 Rebel of the Family, 
 Sowing the Wind.' 
 The One Too Many. 
 Bulcie Everton. 
 
 LUCY. 
 
 Donna Quixote. 
 
 Maid Gi Athens. 
 
 The Comet of a Season. 
 
 The Dictator. 
 
 Red Diamonds. 
 
 The Riddltj Eiug. 
 
 Patricia Kemball. 
 
 The World Well Lost. 
 
 Under which Lord? 
 
 Pa,ston Carew. 
 
 ' My Love I ' 
 
 lone. 
 
 With a Silken Thread 
 
 By HENRY W 
 
 Gideon Fleyce. 
 
 By JUSTIN McCarthy. 
 
 Dear Lady Disdain. 
 Water dale Neighbours. 
 My Enemy's Daughter 
 A Fair Sa::on. 
 I.ini.ey Rochford. 
 M;a2 Mi3aiitarci)e, 
 (;.imiola 
 
 By HUGH MACCOLL. 
 Mr, Stra/.iger's Sealed Packet. 
 
 By GEORGE MACDONALD. 
 
 Heather and Snow. 
 
 By AGNES MACDONELL. 
 
 Quaker Cousins. 
 
 By W. H. MALLOCK. 
 
 The New Republic. 
 
 By BRANDER MATTHEWS. 
 A Secret of the Sea. 
 
 By L. T. MEADE. 
 
 A Soldier of Fortune. 
 
 By LEONARD MERRICK. 
 
 The Man who was Good. 
 
 By Mrs. MOLESWORTH. 
 
 Hathercourt Rectory. 
 
 By J. E. MUDDOCK. 
 
 Stories Weird and Won- ] From the Bosom 0' the 
 
 derfui. \ Deep, 
 
 f he Bead Man's Seoi-et. ; 
 
 riE MURRAY. 
 
 A Bit of Human Nature. 
 First Person Singular. 
 Bob Martin's LittleGirL 
 Time s Revenges. 
 A Wasted Crime. 
 In Direst Peril. 
 ! Mount Despair. 
 A Capful o' Naila 
 
 By D. CHRIS' 
 
 A Model Father. 
 
 Joseph's Coat. 
 
 Coals of Fire. 
 
 Val Strange. | Hearts. 
 
 Old Blazer's Hero. 
 
 Ths Way of the World 
 
 Cynic Fortune. 
 
 A Life's Atonement. 
 
 By the Gate of the Sea. 
 
 By MURRAY and HERMAN. 
 
 One Traveller F.eturns. I The Bishops' Bible. 
 Paul Jones's Alias. | 
 
 By HUME NISBET. 
 
 'Bail Up I' I Dr.Bernard St. Vincent. 
 
 By W. E. NORRIS. 
 
 Saint Ann's. | Billy Bellew. 
 
 By GEORGES OH NET. 
 
 Dr. Rameau. I A Weird Gift. 
 
 A Last Love. \ 
 
 By Mrs. OLIPHANT. 
 
 Whiteladies. | The Greatest HeireBs in 
 
 The Primrose Path. | England. 
 
 By OUIDA. 
 
 Held In Bondage. 
 
 Strathmore. 
 
 Chandos. 
 
 Idaiia. 
 
 Under Two Flags. 
 
 Cecil Castlemaine sGage 
 
 Tricotrin. 
 
 Puck. 
 
 Foil 6 Farine. 
 
 A Dog of Flanders. 
 
 Pascarel. 
 
 Signa. 
 
 Princess Napraxine. 
 
 In a Winter City. 
 
 Ariadne. 
 
 Friendship. 
 
 By MARGARET AGNES PAUL. 
 
 Gentle and Simple. 
 
 By Mrs. CAMPBELL PRAED. 
 
 The Romance of p. Station. 
 The Soul of Countess Adrian. 
 Outlaw and Lawmaker. | Mrs. Tregaskisa 
 Christina Chard. | 
 
 By RICHARD PRYCE. 
 
 Miss Maxwell's Affections. 
 
 By JAMES PAYN. 
 
 Two Lit. Wooden Shoes. 
 Moths. 
 Bimbi. 
 Pipistrello. 
 A Village Commune. 
 Wanda. 
 Othmar 
 Frescoes. 
 In Maremma. 
 Guilderoy. 
 Rufiino. 
 Syrlin. 
 
 Santa Barbara. 
 Two Offenders. 
 Guida'3 Wisdom, Wit, 
 and Pathos. 
 
 Bentlnck's Tutor. 
 
 Murphy's Master. 
 
 A County Family. 
 
 iit Her Mercv. 
 
 Cecil's Tryst. 
 
 The Clyffards of ClySo. 
 
 The Foster Brothers. 
 
 Found Dead. 
 
 The Best of Hnsbauds, 
 
 Walter's Word. 
 
 Halves. 
 
 Fallen Fortunes. 
 
 Humorous Stories. 
 
 £?.00 Reward. 
 
 A X^arine Residence. 
 
 Mirk Abbey 
 
 3v Pi-oxv. 
 
 Under One Roof. 
 
 Hi^^h Snirits. 
 
 Carlycn's Year. 
 
 From Exile. 
 
 For Cash Only. 
 
 Kit. 
 
 The Canon's Ward. 
 
 By Mrs. J. 
 
 Weird Stories. 
 Fairy Water. 
 Her "Mother's Darling. 
 The Prince of Waies'i 
 Garden Paxty. 
 
 TJ'.e Talk of the TowTS. 
 
 Holiday Tasks. 
 
 A Perfect Treasure. 
 
 What He Cost Her. 
 
 A Confidential Agent. 
 
 Glow-worm Tales. 
 
 The Burnt Million. 
 
 Sunny Stories. 
 
 Lost Sir Massingberd. 
 
 A Woman's Vengeance, 
 
 Ths Family Scap'egrace. 
 
 Gwendolines Harvest. 
 
 Like Father, Like Son. 
 
 Married Beneath Hira. 
 
 Not Wooed, but Won. 
 
 Less Black than We re 
 Painted. 
 
 Some Private Views. 
 
 A Gi-ape from a Thorn. 
 
 The Mystery of Mir- 
 bridge. 
 
 The Word and the Will. 
 
 A Prince of the Blood. 
 
 A Trying Patient. 
 f1. RIDDELL. 
 1 The Uninhabited House. 
 ' The Mystery in Palace 
 j Gardens. 
 
 The Nun's Curse, 
 
 Idio Talea, 
 
$2 CHATTO & WINDUS, Puhllshets, iii St. Martin's Lane, Lotidon, W.C. 
 
 Two-Shilling Novels — continued. 
 y CHARLES READS. 
 
 o 
 
 It is Never Too Late to 
 
 Mend. 
 Chi-istie Johastone. 
 The Double Llarriajre. 
 Put Yoiu-self in His 
 
 Place 
 Love Me Little, love 
 
 Me Long. 
 The Cloister and the 
 
 Hearth. 
 Courg3 of True Love. 
 The Jilt. 
 The Autobiography of 
 
 a Thief. 
 
 By F. VV. 
 
 Women are Strange. 
 The Hands of Justice. 
 
 By W. CLARK RUSSELL 
 
 A Terrible Temptation. 
 Foul Play. 
 
 The Y/audering Heir, 
 Hard Cash. 
 Singlsheart ana Z^'mbla- 
 
 lace. 
 Good Stories cf Man and 
 
 other Aniraals. 
 Peg WoSingtoa. 
 Griath Gaunt. 
 A Perilous Secret. 
 A Simpleton. 
 Keadiana. 
 A Woman Hater. 
 
 ROBINSON. 
 
 I The Woman in the Dark 
 
 Round the Galley Fire, 
 
 On the Fo'k'sle Head. 
 
 In the Middle Watch. 
 
 A Voyage to the Cape. 
 
 A Book for the Ham- 
 mock. 
 
 The Mystery cf the 
 ' Ocean Star.' 
 
 The Romance of Jenny 
 Harlowe. 
 
 An Ocean Tragedy. 
 My Shipmate Louise. 
 Alone onWideWide Sea. 
 Good Ship • Mohock.' 
 The Phautcn Death. 
 Is He the Man ? 
 Heart of Oak. 
 Tba Convict Ship. 
 The Tale of tlsa Ten. 
 The Last Entry. 
 
 RUSSELL. 
 
 By DORA 
 A Country Sweetheart. 
 
 By GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA. 
 
 Gaslight and Daylight. 
 
 By GEORGE R. SIMS. 
 
 Zeph. 
 
 Jilemoii'3 of a Landlady. 
 Scenes trom the Show. 
 The ao CoLOuiandments. 
 Dajoact Abroai. 
 Rogues and '/aga'oonds. 
 
 The Ring o Bells. 
 Mary Jane's Memoirs 
 Mary Jane Married. 
 Tales of To day. 
 Dramas of Life. 
 Tinklfctop'8 Crime. 
 My Two Wives. 
 
 By ARTHUR SKETCHLEY. 
 
 A Match in the Dai-k. 
 
 By HAWLEY SAIART. 
 
 Without Love or Licence. I Tha Plunger. 
 Beatrice and Benedick. Long Odds. 
 The Master of Fvathkdlly. | 
 
 By T. VV. SPEIGHT. 
 
 The Mysteries of Heron , Mack tc Life. 
 
 Dyke. 
 The Golden Hoop. 
 Hoodwinked. 
 By Devious Ways. 
 
 By R. A. STERN DALE 
 
 The Afghan Knife. 
 
 The Loudv/aLerTragcdy. 
 Burgos P.oniancs. 
 Quittance in Full. 
 A Husband t ror:i the Sea 
 
 By ALAN ST. AUBYN. 
 
 A Fellow of Trinity. I Orchard Damerel. 
 The Junior Dean. In the Face of the World. 
 
 Master of St. Benedict's | The Xremlett Diamond!. 
 To His Own Master. | 
 
 By R. LOUIS STEVENSON. 
 
 New Arabian Nights. 
 
 By ROBERT SURTEES. 
 
 Handley Cross. 
 
 By WALTER THORNBURY. 
 
 Tales for the Mariuea. 
 
 By T. ADOLPHUS TROLLOPE. 
 
 Diamond Cut Diamond. 
 
 By F. ELEANOR TROLLOPE. 
 
 Like Ships upon the I Anne Furness. 
 Sea. I Mabel's Progress. 
 
 TROLLOPE. 
 
 The American Senator. 
 Mr. Scai-borough's 
 
 Family. 
 GoldeuLion of Qranpert 
 
 By ANTHONY 
 
 Frau Frohmann. 
 Marion Fa,y. 
 Kept in the Dark. 
 The Way We Live Now 
 The Land Leaguers. 
 
 By MARK 
 
 A Pleasure Trip on the 
 
 Continent. 
 The Gilded Age. 
 Huckleberry Finn. 
 MarkTwain s SketcheB. 
 Tom Sawyer. 
 A Tra:np Abroad. 
 
 TWAIN. 
 
 Stolen White Elep^^nt. 
 Life on tlie Mississippi. 
 The Prince and the 
 
 Pauper. 
 A Yankee at the Court 
 
 of Kins Arthur. 
 £1,000,000 Bant- Note. 
 
 By C. C. FRASER=TYTLER. 
 
 Mistress Judith. 
 
 By SARAH TYTLER. 
 
 Bride's Pass | Lady Bell The Huguenot Family 
 Buried Diamonds. j The Blackhall Ghcsti 
 
 Sc. Hungo's City. What SheCameThrough 
 
 Noblesse Oblige. Beauty and the Beast. 
 
 Disappeared. | 
 
 By ALLEN UPWARD. 
 
 The Queen against Owen. | Prince of Baikistan. 
 
 By WILLIAM WESTALL. 
 
 Trust-Money. 
 
 By Mrs. F. H. WILLIAMSON. 
 
 A Child Widow. 
 
 By J 
 
 Cavalry Life. 
 
 By H. F. WOOD. 
 
 The Passenger from Scotland Yard. 
 The Englishman of the Rue Cain. 
 
 By .MARGARET WYNMAN. 
 My Flirtations. 
 
 S. WINTER. 
 
 I Regimeutai Legend!. 
 
 NEW SERIES OF TWO^SHILLiNQ NOVELS. 
 
 Picture cloth boards, flat backs. 
 
 :hola8. 
 
 By EDWIN 
 By Sir Walter 
 By MCD. 
 
 The Constable of St. 
 
 LHSTEK ARNOLD. 
 
 St. Katherine's by the Tower. 
 
 IIHSANT. 
 
 Dora Myrl, the Lady Detective. 
 
 HODKIN, K.C. 
 
 Vincent Trill, Detective. By DiCK Donovan. 
 
 Dark Deeds. Bv Dick Donovan. 
 
 A Crimson Crime. By GEORGE Manvillh 
 
 Fenn. 
 The Red Shirts. By Paul Gaulot. 
 The Track oi" a Storm. By Ovvkn' Hall. 
 In a Hollow of the Hills. By Bke r H'arte. 
 A Sappho of Green Springs. By Bre'i' Hakte. 
 The Lady frora Nowhere. By FERGUS Humh. 
 
 Plotters of Paris. By Edmund Mitchell. 
 The Temple of Death. By Edmund MncuL^LL. 
 Towards the Eternal Snows. By Edmund 
 
 Mitchell. 
 The Luck of Gerard Ridgeley. By Bertram 
 
 MlTFORD. 
 
 His Own Ghost. By D. CHRISTIE MURRAY. 
 
 The V/aters of Edera. By OUIDA. 
 
 A Mod3jn Dick V/hittin^ton. By Jamks Pavn. 
 
 The Drift cf Fate. Bv Dora Russell. 
 
 in London s Heart. Bv O. K. SiM'-'. 
 
 The Tale of tha Serpent. By Sundov.'ner. 
 
 Citoyenne Jacqueline. By Sarah Tvtlpr. 
 
 Joan, the Curate. By Florence WARiik-.N, 
 
 Sport and Spangles. By BYRON WhhtKR. 
 
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