*— ^— ——'——— "^—*V r _ 
 
 MAWLErSMART
 
 L I E) R.AR.Y 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U N IVLR.SITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
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 J^.^^.^^'W-^M^' ;^:^^'?r' 
 
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 the U„i„r.i,/ ""'' '""" " ""-"issol fr,„ 
 
 T. r,„e„ „„ Telephon. Center, 333-8400 
 
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 MAR 5 2Cfl? 
 
 L161— O-1096
 
 LONG ODDS. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 a
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 
 COLSTON AND COMPANY 
 
 PRINTERS.
 
 LONG ODDS, 
 
 A NO VE L. 
 
 BY 
 
 HAWLEY SMART, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 I5REEZIE LANGTON,' ' A FALSE START,' 'CLEVERLY WON, 
 'THE OUTSIDER,' 'THE MASTER OF RATHKELLY,' 
 ETC., ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES, 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 F. V. WHITE & CO., 
 31 SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, W.C. 
 
 1889.
 
 8e.5 
 
 V, 2. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 EEEATA. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 Page 2, line 4, for ' have to save/ read ' cam« to save/ 
 
 ■ „ 10, „ 13, for ' luck's view,' read 'luck's vein.'' 
 
 „ 12, „ 9, for ' salon de jue,' read 'salon dejeu.' 
 
 „ 16, ,, 16, for ' couldn't say,' read * could not say.' 
 
 „ 21, „ 9, for * to Cuxwolds,' read ' in Cuxwolds.' '^% 
 
 „ 76, „ 7, for • Staples,' read ' Stubber.' 
 
 „ 121, ,, 3, for ' Xaxartes,' read ' the Jaxartes.' 
 
 „ 124, „ 20, for 'of the tribes,' read 'with the tribes.' 
 
 „ 212, „ 8, for * a good year,' read ' near a year.' 
 
 „ 215, „ 4, for 'knew you had,' read * know you have.' 
 
 „ 243, „ 14, for ' they,' read ' our people.' 
 
 XIIL— Lucy's Innoculation, . . • i97 
 
 XIV. — Mr Skinner IS PUZZLED, . . . 213 
 
 XV.— The July Stakes, .... 228
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/longoddsnovel01smar
 
 LONG ODDS.
 
 POPUL AR NEW N OVELS. 
 
 Nozu ready, in One Vol., the Seventh Edition of 
 
 ARMY SOCIETY; or Life in a Garrison Town. By John Strange 
 
 Winter. Author of ' Booties' Baby.' Cloth gilt, 6s. ; also, picture boards, 2s. 
 
 A ho now ready, ifi cloth gilt, 35. 6d. each. 
 
 GARRISON GOSSIP, Gathered in Blankhampton. By John Strange 
 
 Winter. Also picture boards, 2s. 
 A SIEGE BABY. By the same Author. 
 IN THE SHIRES. By Sir Randal H. Roberts, Bart. 
 THE GIRL IN THE BROWN HABIT. A Sporting Novel. By Mrs Edward 
 
 Kennard. Also picture boards, 2s. 
 BY WOMAN'S WIT. By Mrs Alexander. Author of 'The Wooing O't.' Also, 
 
 picture boards, 2s. 
 MONA'S CHOICE. By the same Author. 
 
 KILLED IN THE OPEN. By Mrs Edward Kennard. Also, picture boards, 2s. 
 IN A GRASS COUNTRY. By Mrs H. Lovett-Cameron. Also, picture 
 
 boards, 2s. 
 A DEVOUT LOVER. By the same Author. 
 
 THE OUTSIDER. By Hawley Smart. Also, picture boards, 2s. 
 STRAIGHT AS A DIE. By Edward Kennard. Also, picture boards, 2s. 
 TWILIGHT TALES. By the same Author. Illustrated. 
 SHE CAME BETWEEN. By Mrs Alexander Eraser. 
 THE CRUSADE OF 'THE EXCELSIOR." By Bret Harte. 
 CURB AND SNAFFLE. By Sir Randal H. Roberts, Bart. 
 A REAL GOOD THING. By Mrs Edward Kennard. 
 DREAM FACES. By the Hon. Mrs Fetherstonhaugh. 
 
 F. V. WHITE & Co., 31 Southamptoii Street, Strand, 
 London, W.G.
 
 ) 
 
 LONG ODDS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 TAKE CARE OF DAMOCLES. 
 
 A GLORIOUS night. The moon, pale re- 
 gent of the sky, with all her glittering court, 
 is marching like an army through the 
 heavens. The numberless lights of Cairo 
 twinkle brightly, and the cigars glow like 
 fire-flies under the verandah of Shepheard's 
 Hotel. Just visible from the lounging- 
 chairs there, an unusually brilliant gleam 
 of light catches the eye, evidently pro- 
 ceeding from some large building which is 
 garishly illuminated. From that spot, at 
 
 VOL. I. A
 
 2 Long Odds. 
 
 that time of night, the most striking object 
 perhaps in the city of the Khedive. 
 
 ' So you're getting pretty tired of the 
 place you have to save, Jack, eh ? ' 
 
 * Yes,' repHed the Honourable Jack 
 Cuxwold of her Majesty's — th Lancers. 
 * Before Tel-el-Kebir the certainty that we 
 had work before us kept us going. Then 
 the ride down here was glorious, a match 
 against time, whether we reached Cairo in 
 time to save the city.' 
 
 * Yes,' said Flood, ' from all accounts 
 you weren't an hour too soon. Arabi's 
 defeated troops would have fired and 
 sacked it in another four-and-twenty- 
 hours.' 
 
 * Just so,' replied Jack Cuxwold. * I 
 fancy that's what would have taken place. 
 Defeated soldiery ''out of hand" would 
 probably treat a wealthy city in that way.' 
 
 ' Well, it's all over now ; and I suppose 
 you'll be soon coming home again ? ' 
 
 * Not a chance of our comin^r home for 
 ever so long,' retorted Cuxwold; 'and as 
 or its being all over, I very much doubt
 
 Take care of Damocles. 3 
 
 that. We've pooh-poohed the Madhi, and 
 there being no European troops engaged 
 in it, haven't paid much attention to the 
 annihilation of Hicks' column ; but these 
 Arabs are on the boil, and when a fellow 
 calls himself a prophet, if they only take 
 him up, there's no saying where their fana- 
 ticism may not carry them.' 
 
 • Exactly ! ' said Flood. ' And I can 
 fancy these fellows thinking a raid from 
 their own sandy deserts into Lower Egypt, 
 in the name of religion, a very profitable 
 speculation. By the way, you were in luck 
 at dinner. That was a deuced pretty girl 
 you contrived to sit next.' 
 
 ' She was, Master Alec, and very pleasant 
 to talk to besides.' 
 
 * Did you make out her name and be- 
 longings ? ' 
 
 ' She is a Miss Bramton,' replied Cux- 
 wold ; ' and that little dark man who sat 
 next her was her uncle. They rather 
 puzzled me. She was as ladylike a girl 
 as you would meet anywhere ; but, hang 
 it, I can't make him out.'
 
 4 Long Odds. 
 
 * Hardly looked a gentleman,' rejoined 
 Flood. 
 
 'No,' said the other, 'whatever he is, 
 he's not that. From what Miss Bramton 
 told me, I gathered that they had come 
 abroad for the benefit of her uncle's health. 
 He is delicate in the chest, and has fled 
 from the ricrour of an English winter.' 
 
 o <z> 
 
 ' Then they're settled here for some 
 time?' 
 
 ' I suppose so. Miss Bramton told me 
 that they had no intention of leaving till 
 the winter was well over.' 
 
 As has been gathered from the previous 
 conversation, the Honourable Jack Cux- 
 wold, second son of the Earl of Ranks- 
 borow, was a dragoon, whose regiment 
 had formed part of the original expedition 
 to Egypt. He had been present at the 
 battle of Tel-el-Kebir, and then joined in 
 Stewart's dashing ride to Cairo. Since 
 then he had been kicking his heels about 
 that city, and was now fain to confess 
 that he was most heartily sick of it. He 
 had been up the Great Pyramid, done
 
 Take care of Damocles, 5 
 
 the Mosques, seen the Sphinx, ransacked 
 the Bazaars, assisted in getting up divisional 
 races, and, in short, to use his own words, 
 had thoroughly exhausted the Khedive's 
 capital. But he knew there was no prospect 
 of getting away, for with Gordon shut up 
 in Khartoum, and the storm clouds of battle 
 gathering In the desert, no man In health 
 could think of applying for leave. Alec 
 Flood was an old friend of his whom he 
 had come across two or three days before, 
 and with whom this evening he had been 
 dining at Shepheard's Hotel. Flood was 
 one of those men, whom you always do 
 come across, blessed with a comfortable 
 income and a restless disposition ; he liter- 
 ally ' wandered up and down upon the 
 earth.' As for his friends, it did not signify 
 what part of the world they had betaken 
 themselves to, they were always prepared 
 to see Alec Flood turn up in his usual 
 listless fashion. He never seemed to know 
 where he was going, and, what was very 
 exasperating to people of ordinarily well- 
 regulated minds, he never seemed to care.
 
 6 Long Odds. 
 
 If he was late for train or steamer, going 
 to such and such a place, he would get 
 into the next, perfectly regardless of what 
 its destination might be. 'What does it 
 matter ? ' he said upon one of these occa- 
 sions ; ' I haven't made up my mind, you 
 see, where to go, but I'm quite determined 
 to go for the present' Cairo amused him, 
 it was not that he hadn't done it all be- 
 fore, but he had met Cuxwold and two or 
 three other old friends, and so had resolved 
 to pull up there for a little. Unmarried, 
 and with no profession, he was free to roam 
 wheresoever he would. Like Ulysses, 
 he had seen men and cities, and could dis- 
 course pleasantly of both, and was cordi- 
 ally welcomed in all such society as he 
 affected ; but on this point he w^as some- 
 what fastidious, and by no means to be 
 beguiled by all cards of invitation. 
 
 * I say,' exclaimed Cuxwold at length, 
 ' we can't spend the whole evening in this 
 drowsy old verandah ; what do you say 
 to coming over there ? ' and he jerked his 
 head in the direction of the buildinof that
 
 Take care of Damocles. 7 
 
 shone out so brilliantly against the lights 
 of Cairo. 
 
 * Anything to see much ? ' rejoined the 
 other sententiously. 
 
 ' Well, a music hall is a music hall/ re- 
 joined Jack Cuxwold. ' It's not so enter- 
 taining as the Oxford, still one hears a 
 good song sometimes ; and they've a girl 
 there who warbles French chansons of the 
 Therese type rather archly. At all events, 
 it is better fun than sitting here.' 
 
 Alec Flood said nothing, but rose and 
 prepared to accompany his mercurial guest. 
 Left to himself, he would have smoked 
 passively as an Oriental for the next hour 
 or two, and then retired to bed ; but the 
 restless Anglo-Saxon blood of Jack Cux- 
 wold rebelled against such passive enjoy- 
 ment. 
 
 * Come on,' he exclaimed, * it's no dis- 
 tance ; and though the streets of Cairo are 
 not policed like those of London, yet no- 
 body ever presumes to interfere with our 
 insular race in any way.' 
 
 ' No,' rejoined Flood, laughing; 'the con-
 
 8 Long Odds, 
 
 querors stalk abroad with much majesty 
 at present. It isn't till later on that the 
 conquered avenge their wrongs by midnight 
 assassination.' 
 
 Thus jesting, the two young men left 
 their hotel, and made their way to this 
 last exotic of Western civilisation newly 
 grafted on the East. The music hall 
 was, as Cuxwold had explained, of very 
 ordinary type, differing but little from 
 the conventional London entertainment. 
 Only in this wise, that there was a 
 considerable amount of French singing 
 introduced into it. Flood and Cuxwold 
 were perhaps more amused by the queer 
 mdlange of the audience than in anything 
 they saw upon the stage. The seemingly 
 congregation of all nationalities present, 
 from the Frank in light tweeds to his 
 brother in evening costume ; from the 
 Greek of the Levant to the Armenians ; 
 from the scarlet fezzed officer of the 
 Egyptian army to the undress of his 
 British compeer. Eastern dresses of all 
 kinds were scattered amongst the audience.
 
 Take care of Damocles. g 
 
 The hall was crowded, and, needless to 
 say, hot. 
 
 They had been there for about an hour, 
 and the mercurial Cuxwold was already 
 beginning to doubt whether the game was 
 worth the candle, when they were accosted 
 by a slim dark man of unmistakable Jew- 
 ish physiognomy, who, in somewhat indif- 
 ferent English, said, — 
 
 •Ah, pouf! Gentlemen, this place is 
 something too hot. What would you think 
 of adjourning to a little establishment that 
 I know of? Ha ! we get there something 
 cool to drink, and a leetle amusement. Ha! 
 we see the leetle ball go round and round, 
 we back the colour, we fill our pockets, we 
 rinse our throats ; ah, peste ! it is more 
 amusing than this place. What say you, 
 gentlemen ? Will you stroll across to the 
 establishment of my friend ? It is close 
 by. All the best gentlemen of Cairo look 
 in there.' 
 
 ' Gambling-house tout,' said Flood, in an 
 undertone. 
 
 ' No doubt,' rejoined Cuxwold ; ' still
 
 lo Long Odds, 
 
 this is deuced dull. Suppose we go, Alec, 
 and look in for half an hour, just to see 
 how they manage these things in the 
 East; 
 
 ' All right, old man/ rejoined Flood ; 
 ' but a gambling-house is a gambling- 
 house, whether you see it in the East or 
 in the West. However, I don't suppose 
 that you or I will hurt ourselves much at 
 it. I am good to go if you like. Show 
 us the way in,' he said, turning to their 
 new acquaintance, ' and we will see if we 
 are in luck's view to-night.' 
 
 They emerged from the music hall 
 under the guidance of their new friend, 
 and, crossing the road, plunged at once 
 into the labyrinth of small streets that run 
 at the back of the Great Square, till their 
 guide stopped at a low doorway, over 
 which, as has been the fashion of such 
 dens from time immemorial, their blazed 
 a brilliant fanlight. A tap at the door, 
 and the portal was at once opened, and 
 their mentor led the way into a narrow 
 passage which opened into a brilliantly
 
 Take care of Damocles, ii 
 
 lighted room, wherein a roulette table, 
 surrounded by a throng of eager specu- 
 lators, was in full swing. 
 
 * A queer crowd, by Jove ! Jack ; some 
 villainous faces as ever I saw,' whispered 
 Flood. 
 
 * Yes,' replied the other ; ' and look, 
 Alec, I'm blessed if there isn't our invalid. 
 There's Bramton punting, if I know any- 
 thing about it, like a man who means 
 business.' 
 
 ' Ah, gentlemen,' exclaimed their con- 
 ductor, * never mind that just now ; you 
 will allow me to be your guide. I am 
 well known here. I think just a quail 
 en aspic and a glass of champagne before 
 we battle the enemy.' 
 
 * Right you are,' rejoined Cuxwold ; 
 ^ I've a prodigious thirst on me.' 
 
 ' It strikes me we have met before, my 
 friend,' said Alec Flood, as they followed 
 the stranger Into an inner room, where 
 a liberally-furnished supper-table was laid 
 out. ' I can't quite recollect where.' 
 
 ' Impossible, monsieur,' interposed the
 
 12 Long Odds. 
 
 stranger. ' I have an excellent memory for 
 faces, and, monsieur will pardon me,' he 
 continued, with a low bow, ' his is not one 
 that we — ah, what you call it ? — forget.' 
 
 He called to the attendants, and Cux- 
 wold and Flood were speedily supplied 
 with an excellent supper, washed down 
 with equally good wine. That finished, 
 they at once adjourned to the salon de 
 jue. 
 
 * Now, messieurs,' said their guide, 
 laughing, * give me a lead. I never do 
 right myself. I will follow your game, 
 gentlemen.' 
 
 It was the ordinary roulette as played at 
 Monte Carlo or any other similar establish- 
 ment ; but the eager faces and glittering 
 eyes of the gamblers showed that the play 
 was deep. There was all the silence that 
 would characterise a London card-room, 
 when the battle waged fierce, and if luck 
 went against them, ruin ere daybreak stared 
 some of the combatants in the face. But 
 these Easterns cannot control their phy- 
 siognomies like the children of the West,
 
 Take care of Damocles, 13 
 
 and, though nothing but a smothered ex- 
 clamation or low ejaculation of triumph 
 escaped their lips, the flashing eyes and 
 flushed faces showed that the intoxication 
 of gambling was boiling in their veins. 
 
 ' A run on the red,' whispered Flood ; 
 ' best follow that as far as the colour croes. 
 Back the numbers to suit your own 
 fancy.' 
 
 Once more did the ball go circling 
 round, and again did the croupier assever- 
 ate that red was the successful colour. It 
 speedily became evident to Flood that 
 what he had first deemed deep play all 
 round was pretty nearly confined in this 
 instance to Bramton, who had been evi- 
 dently losing heavily, was backing black 
 with dogged persistency, and was evidently 
 equally unfortunate in his selection of the 
 numbers. His face was cool and impas- 
 sive, but there was an angry light in his 
 eyes. As Flood and Cuxwold could see, 
 he kept on increasing his stake after ever}- 
 rebuff. Once more did the ball spin round, 
 and as it slowly hesitated which parti-
 
 14 Long Odds. 
 
 tlon to dribble into, the croupier, either 
 accidentally or by design, touched the 
 board with his hand. 
 
 ' Foul play, by G — d ! ' shouted Bram- 
 ton, springing to his feet. ' No such run 
 as this was ever brought about by fair 
 means ; that thief can pull the strings as 
 he likes. I'll have back every shilling he 
 has won of me.' 
 
 In an instant all was confusion. The 
 men of that motley crew not only snatched 
 up their own stakes, but in some in- 
 stances perhaps as much of their neigh- 
 bour's as they could lay hands on. The 
 quiet of the chamber was broken, and 
 the room rang with a perfect polyglot of 
 blasphemy. The myrmidons of the estab- 
 lishment, of course, gathered round the 
 bank, and well they might, for there 
 were those in that precious crew who 
 reckoned little of how money was come 
 by. _ , 
 
 ' Disgorge, you scoundrel ! ' screamed 
 Bramton. ' If you don't return me the 
 money you've robbed me of, I bring the
 
 Take cai^e of Damocles. 15 
 
 whole place about your ears. I pay up when 
 I lose; but I'll be hung if I'll submit to 
 being robbed,' and, in the excitement of 
 the moment, he sprang at the croupier 
 
 For a minute or two the melde seemed 
 about to be general, and at all events a 
 sharp struggle took place around the 
 bank. Cuxwold and Flood half fought 
 half pushed their way to the scene of 
 action. Suddenly a shriek rang through 
 the room, followed by a cry of ' I am 
 stabbed ! ' The crowd fell back, and 
 Bramton reeled out of the nielde, bathed 
 in blood, and fell fainting on the floor. 
 In an instant the two Englishmen were 
 at his side. Cuxwold raised his head, 
 and Flood, who in his wanderings had 
 acquired some slight knowledge of 
 surgery, tore open the wounded man's 
 waistcoat only to discover two deep 
 gashes in his chest from which the blood 
 was welling. The tragic ending of the 
 affair seemed to have sobered all those 
 present. They had meddled with an 
 Eno-lishman — meddled with him even to
 
 1 6 Long Oaas. 
 
 his death — and there was an obvious 
 desire on the part of the company to 
 depart as quickly and privily as might 
 be. A few minutes and the house was 
 cleared of all save the wounded man, 
 Cuxwold, Flood, and its proprietors ; and 
 these latter seemed In much perturbation 
 at the untoward occurrence. Cuxwold 
 noticed that the gentleman who had in- 
 troduced them was amongst those who 
 had disappeared. He had seen him just 
 before the commencement of the fray, 
 apparently staking his money on the 
 game ; but whether he had taken any 
 part in the scrimmage, or when he dis- 
 appeared. Jack couldn't say. 
 
 ' It's no use,' gasped the wounded 
 man ; * there's nothing much to be done 
 for me. I've got my gruel, and I know 
 it. Give me a glass of something, just 
 to keep me going for a few minutes 
 w^hile I say what I've got to say. You're 
 Englishmen, both of you, aren't you?' 
 
 Flood nodded assent as he rose to his 
 feet.
 
 Take care of Da^nocles, 1 7 
 
 ' No,' cried the dying man, as Flood 
 turned towards the door ; ' doctors are of 
 no use. I shall be gone before they can 
 get here.' 
 
 ' I regret to say that, Mr Bramton, I 
 agree with you,' replied Flood gravely. 
 ' I am only going to get you some 
 stimulant. We will do what we can do to 
 forward your wishes, but I know enough 
 of surgery to warn you that you have 
 no time to lose in telling us what you 
 want.' 
 
 ' Good chap your pal ; but he comes 
 pretty straight to the point, don't he ? 
 Well it's best, in cases like mine. Let's 
 see, I've seen your face before. Ah ! 
 you're the young chap who was at the 
 hotel, and was so civil to Lucy. She is 
 a good girl that. She and Damocles are 
 the only creatures I care about on earth. 
 What I want you to do is this — is your 
 friend never coming with that brandy, or 
 whatever it is ? — I feel so faint.' 
 
 ' Here he is, here he is,' said Cux- 
 wold softly, as he took the tumbler from 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 1 8 Long Odds, 
 
 Flood's hand, and held it to Bramton's 
 lips. 
 
 The man swallowed it eagerly, and then 
 continued, — 
 
 ' That's what I want you to see about. 
 Just break it to her. Let her down easy. 
 Poor girl, she does care a bit about her 
 old uncle ; and then, you see, gentlemen, 
 she's all alone here in a foreign land, and 
 don't know the hang of things. If you'll 
 just put matters straight for her. Manage 
 all about this row ; take her passage for 
 England, and all that. There's plenty of 
 money ; Dick Bramton ain't dying a 
 pauper by any means. Give me some 
 more brandy. Thanks ; that'll do. Will 
 you promise to do what I ask, gentlemen .-^ 
 Don't say more about this than you can 
 help. Say I'm dead, stabbed in the 
 streets, anything. Give her my love. 
 Where am I ? — it's getting dark. Tell her 
 to take care of Damocles. I wonder what 
 time it is ? I feel awfully sleepy. It's 
 hard, too, with the winner of the Derby 
 in your stable ; ' and with those words
 
 Take care of Damocles. 19 
 
 Dick Bramton fell back upon the cushions 
 they had laid on him, and seemed to 
 sleep. 
 
 Slowly the blood flowed from the wound, 
 and trickled over the carpet, in spite of all 
 Flood's efforts to stanch it. A quarter of 
 an hour, a slight twitching of the mouth, 
 a faint fluttering of the eyelids, and Dick 
 Bramton's spirit had sped.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 GOOD-BYE IN REAL EARNEST. 
 
 By this time the gendarmes had made 
 their appearance upon the scene, and at 
 once proceeded to take possession of the 
 house and its occupants. Only for Cux- 
 wold's uniform, there was no doubt but 
 both he and Flood would have found them- 
 selves in custody ; but the guardians of 
 the law were shy of meddling with any 
 one wearing the Queen of England's uni- 
 form. The preliminary investigation told 
 nothing. The three men, who avowedly 
 were the proprietors of the house, protested 
 their innocence, and neither Flood nor 
 Cuxwold, although they were fighting their 
 way to Bramton's assistance at the time,
 
 Good-bye in Real Earnest. 2 1 
 
 had seen who it was that had dealt those 
 fatal blows. 
 
 They certainly could formulate no ac- 
 cusation against the three men in question. 
 Cuxwold took a hi^h tone with the officer 
 of gendarmes, and that functionary at once 
 proved subservient and willing to do any- 
 thing the English captain deemed advis- 
 able. He acquiesced at once to Cuxwold's 
 proposal that the body of the dead man 
 should be removed to the hotel at day- 
 break. He would make every effort to 
 discover the murderer, and exert himself 
 to the utmost of his ability in order that 
 justice should be done ; but it was difficult. 
 They had many of such cases ; so many of 
 these Greeks, Arab dealers, traders, etc., 
 from the Upper Province, carried knives, 
 and were wont to use them freely. He 
 would send down some of his men at day- 
 break with a hand litter to remove the 
 deceased to Shepheard's Hotel. He would 
 not trouble the gentlemen more than he 
 could help, but it would be necessary that 
 Captain Cuxwold should give evidence
 
 22 Long- Odds, 
 
 t> 
 
 before the Cadi, and then with ' plenty 
 salaam' to the two Englishmen, and a 
 fierce whisper to the proprietors of the 
 house, that if plenty of backsheesh w^ere 
 not forthcoming, it would be the worse 
 for them, the man in authority took his 
 departure. 
 
 * This is a nice business we've let our- 
 selves in for,' said Flood, in a low tone, as 
 they commenced their vigil o'er the dead. 
 ' I wonder what became of that confounded 
 little Semite. I can't help thinking I've 
 seen that fellow's face somewhere before.' 
 
 * Well,' said Jack meditatively, * I sup- 
 pose all this would have happened whether 
 we had been here or not. The whole 
 thing passed too quick for us to save this 
 poor fellow ; but, for all that, it's as well 
 we were here.' 
 
 ' As you say so, my dear boy, I suppose 
 it is ; but upon my life I can't see it.' 
 
 ' We can do the poor fellow's last 
 bidding,' said Jack. * It's better that pretty 
 girl at the hotel should have the thing 
 broken gently to her, instead of hearing of
 
 Good-bye in Real Earnest. 23 
 
 it abruptly. She will want some one, too, 
 to help her about all her arrangements to 
 return home, etc' 
 
 Flood eyed his companion curiously for 
 a moment, and then remarked, — 
 
 ' True ; you are a good fellow, Jack, 
 and always had a touch of chivalry in 
 your nature. Consider me as under your 
 orders in every respect about this affair. 
 I wonder who or what is Damocles — a 
 dog, I suppose ? ' 
 
 * I can tell you all about that,' replied 
 Cuxwold. ' That name reveals a good 
 deal to me about the poor fellow who's 
 gone. I don't do very much in the racing 
 way myself — younger sons can't afford it — 
 but I come, remember, of a regular racing 
 stock. My noble father and Dartree, my 
 eldest brother, are up to their eyes in it. 
 Well, if it's only to see what their horses 
 are doing, I always skim the racing in- 
 telligence. Damocles is a two-year-old of 
 whom great things are expected. He was 
 bought for a lot of money last year by 
 Richard Bramton, who is a well-known
 
 24 Long Odds. 
 
 racing man — began life, I believe, as a 
 stable-boy — and who was yesterday one 
 of the luckiest owners on the turf.' 
 
 'Ah! a self-made man?' remarked 
 Flood. 
 
 ' Quite so ; I never saw him before last 
 night at dinner, and never dreamt of his 
 being the man who on the turf they call 
 " Lucky Dick Bramton." How the deuce 
 a niece of his is what Miss Bramton is 
 is somewhat difficult to explain.' 
 
 ' It is odd,' said Flood. * She was as 
 refined, ladylike a looking girl as one 
 ever came across, and her poor uncle, even 
 in his last moments, quite justified your 
 opinion of him as to his not being a 
 gentleman ; he was very rough of speech.' 
 
 ' Yes,' replied Cuxwold ; ' but here are 
 the first streaks of dawn. Ah ! and here 
 come the gendarmes with their stretchers.' 
 
 The gendarmes at once entered the 
 house, and the remains of poor Dick 
 Bramton were at once placed reverently 
 on the stretcher by Cuxwold and Flood. 
 Under their auspices, the body was borne
 
 Good-bye in Real Eai^nest. 25 
 
 back to Shepheard's Hotel, and safely 
 deposited in the dead man's chamber, 
 there to await burial. The proprietor of 
 the hotel was much concerned. Such a 
 thing as the assassination of a guest of 
 his within a mile of his house had never 
 happened before. He could not under- 
 stand it. When did it take place ? But 
 upon this point Cuxwold and his friend 
 were somewhat reticent, preferring at 
 present that the hotel-keeper should be- 
 lieve it to be the result of a street brawl 
 rather than of 2^ fracas in a gaming-house. 
 
 ' Now,' said Jack, ' let's go up to )'our 
 room. By the time I've made myself a 
 little decent. Miss Bramton, no doubt, will 
 be up, and I've got to tell her then what 
 has happened.' 
 
 People rise early in the East. There 
 is not much to induce one generally to 
 sit up in such cities as Cairo. Men will 
 sit up to play under all climes, and under 
 all circumstances. Nothinir but the most 
 arbitrary law stops the gambler in his 
 favourite pursuit.
 
 26 Long Odds. 
 
 Miss Bramton was up betimes, and flit- 
 ting about her sitting-room, waiting for 
 her uncle to come to breakfast. They 
 usually took that meal more or less to- 
 gether in their own apartment ; but her 
 uncle was habitually unpunctual, and Lucy 
 as often as not had finished breakfast be- 
 fore Dick Bramton put in his appearance. 
 She was just debating in her own mind 
 whether she should ring for that repast, 
 when a servant entered and said that a 
 gentleman wished to see her. To the 
 very natural request of ' What is the 
 gentleman's name ? ' the waiter produced 
 an envelope, on the back of which was 
 written, ' Captain Cuxwold requests to 
 see Miss Bramton on business of urgent 
 importance.' That Captain Cuxwold was 
 the name of her neighbour at the table 
 dhote on the previous night Lucy was 
 aware, and though the request was not 
 a little extraordinary, still, from what she 
 had seen of him, she could not but believe 
 that he must have reasonable grounds for 
 making it.
 
 Good-bye in Real Earnest. 2 7 
 
 ' Tell the gentleman I shall be very 
 glad to see him/ 
 
 Another moment and Jack Cuxwold 
 entered the room, feeling, sooth to say, 
 considerably more nervous than was 
 his wont at being shown into a lady's 
 boudoir. 
 
 * Good-morning, Captain Cuxwold,' said 
 Miss Bramton. ' The waiter tells me that 
 you wish to see me ; but we know how 
 stupid these people at the hotel are. It 
 is far more probable that your business 
 is with my uncle, whose acquaintance 
 seems to me to comprise men of all 
 kinds and conditions.' 
 
 ' No, Miss Bramton,' returned Jack 
 gravely, ' I regret to say my business is 
 with you. I grieve to say that your uncle 
 was seriously injured in a street fray last 
 night. I was present, and, though I did 
 my best, was unluckily too late to come 
 to his assistance.' 
 
 'Uncle Dick hurt!' exclaimed the 
 girl. ' Where is he ? I must go to 
 him at once ; tell me Captain Cuxwold,'
 
 28 Long Odds. 
 
 and the dark grey eyes looked keenly 
 into his. 
 
 ' It's what I've come to do, Miss 
 Bramton. Please be quiet, and sit down, 
 and don't make my task more difficult 
 than it is already. Everything- has been 
 done for your Uncle Dick that is pos- 
 sible, and it would be useless your going 
 to him now.' 
 
 'Why not ?' she exclaimed. ' He may 
 be rough, he may be uncouth, but he 
 has been the best and dearest uncle to 
 me always. He has never grudged any 
 expense if he thought a thing would give 
 me pleasure. If he is seriously hurt, my 
 place is at his bedside ; it is trifling with 
 me, Captain Cuxwold, not to tell me 
 where he is. No one can nurse him as 
 well as me.' 
 
 'You have misunderstood me, Miss 
 Bramton. I fear I am doing my errand 
 badly. Cannot you understand, there are 
 cases past all nursing } ' 
 
 ' Past all nursing,' repeated Lucy. ' Do 
 you mean to tell me,' she continued
 
 Good-bye in Real Earnest. 29 
 
 slowly, while her eyes dilated and her 
 voice dropped almost to a whisper, ' that 
 my uncle is dead?' 
 
 ' Even so,' rejoined Jack. ' I saw him 
 struck down with my own eyes — was with 
 him to the last — and have brought his 
 dying message to you.' 
 
 'Saw him struck down, sir!' exclaimed 
 the girl indignantly ; ' and is the man 
 alive who dealt that felon blow, or is he 
 in the hands of the police.'^' 
 
 ' He has escaped justice so far, Miss 
 Bramton,' rejoined Cuxwold, in low tones. 
 
 ' And what were you doing, sir ? Did 
 you stand aside and see death dealt 
 out to one of your countrymen without 
 raising your hand ? You are a soldier, 
 and a powerful man besides. It surely 
 couldn't be that you were afraid to 
 interfere ? ' 
 
 Cuxwold's face flushed under the un- 
 deserved taunt. 
 
 * No,' he said quiedy, after a moment's 
 hesitation, ' I don't think it was that. It 
 was chance brought me and my friend
 
 30 Long Odds. 
 
 upon the scene. Your uncle was struck 
 down before we could reach him.' 
 
 * Forgive me, I feel that I have done 
 you injustice. I hardly knew what I was 
 saying. You see the shock has come 
 suddenly upon me, and I loved him very 
 dearly ; but I must see him. Where is 
 he?' 
 
 * There is no difficulty about your see- 
 ing him, Miss Bramton. We watched by 
 him through the night, and brought him 
 here at daybreak. We have laid him in 
 his own room.' 
 
 ' Take me to him, please/ said Lucy, 
 still struggling with her tears. 
 
 Jack Cuxwold silently conducted her to 
 the dead man's chamber, and left her on 
 the threshold. Lucy Bramton walked 
 swiftly to the bed, and gently drew back 
 the sheet. One glance was sufficient. 
 There could be no doubt that the de- 
 stroyer had claimed her uncle. She 
 pressed her lips to the dead man's fore- 
 head, replaced the sheet, and then, fall- 
 ing upon her knees by the bedside, burst
 
 Good-bye in Real Earnest. 3 1 
 
 into a paroxysm of weeping. The tear- 
 storm did her good, and when some 
 quarter of an hour later she emerged 
 from the silent chamber, her face, though 
 very pale, was calm. Somewhat to her 
 surprise, when she entered the sitting- 
 room, she found Jack Cuxwold seated 
 there. 
 
 ' I've no wish to Intrude upon your 
 grief, Miss Bramton,' said Jack, rising. ' I 
 have only waited to tell you that I will 
 do everything that Is necessary about the 
 investigation of this unfortunate occur- 
 rence. I will also make every arrange- 
 ment for the funeral, which, as perhaps 
 you are aware, out here will have to 
 take place at once. I will say no more 
 now, but leave you to collect your thoughts 
 and think over what you wish done. 
 When you want me, you will have 
 nothing to do but to ring the bell 
 and say so. I shall be somewhere 
 about the hotel,' and without waiting 
 for the thanks which Lucy was about 
 to proffer, Jack left the room.
 
 32 Long Odds. 
 
 The investigation of the murder pro- 
 ceeded in the leisurely way characteristic 
 of all business in the East. There was no 
 clue to the assassin, and, as was pointed 
 out to Cuxwold, no probability of his 
 being discovered unless a large reward 
 was offered, and as Flood, who knew 
 the East well, observed cynically, ' It 
 will be doubtful whether you get the 
 rieht man even then, as some of these 
 fellows to obtain money would just as 
 soon swear their fellows' lives away as 
 not' 
 
 Richard Bramton was quietly laid to 
 rest in the English cemetery ; and thus 
 terminated the tragedy which was destined 
 to have a singular effect on the future of 
 two of the people indirectly mixed up in 
 it. Lucy Bramton naturally decided to 
 return to England by the very next 
 steamer. Jack Cuxwold took her passage, 
 and even accompanied her by railway to 
 the point of embarkation. As he wished 
 her farewell on the deck of the steamer^ 
 Lucy said, —
 
 Good-bye in Real Earnest. ^iZ 
 
 * I made a shameful accusation against 
 you In the first moment of my agony, 
 but I know you would make every 
 allowance for a grief-strlcken girl, and 
 that you have forgiven me. Is It not 
 so?' 
 
 ' Pray don't mention it,' replied Jack. 
 * I have forgotten all about It.' 
 
 * You have been very kind to me, 
 and If ever you come Into Barkshire, 
 I hope you will let papa thank you 
 for all the care you have taken of his 
 daughter.' 
 
 ' I had no Idea you lived In Barkshire,' 
 said Cuxwold. 
 
 ' We are newcomers in the county,' 
 replied Lucy, ' and know very few people 
 as yet. Good-bye.' 
 
 ' I am afraid It Is good-bye in real 
 earnest now, they've passed the word, 
 "All for shore." Good-bye; I hope 
 you'll have a good passage, and next 
 time I'm in Barkshire I shall come and 
 see you. However, I'm not likely to 
 leave this country at present. Once 
 VOL. I. c
 
 34 Long Odds. 
 
 more, good-bye/ and Jack pressed the 
 little hand extended to him, raised his 
 cap, and disappeared across the gang- 
 way.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE TELEGRAM. 
 
 A LARGE suburban villa of the very best 
 type, for such really is the only way to 
 describe the house, though it stands 
 many miles away from the metropolis, 
 surrounded by grounds which no doubt 
 in spring and summer were extremely 
 beautiful. One could fancy the horse- 
 chestnuts, copper-coloured beeches, and 
 laburnums in all their glory ; the great 
 clumps of rhododendrons and azaleas all 
 ablaze ; and those trim beds in the 
 parterre, which at the present moment 
 are what the gardeners call 'banked up,' 
 glowing with brilliant flowers, borders of 
 lobelia, golden chain, and low scarlet gera-
 
 36 Long Odds. 
 
 nium. But this brlo^ht March morninor 
 the hand of winter still holds nature in 
 its grasp, and though the snowdrops and 
 crocuses are beginning to peep above 
 ground, it is as yet far too early for the 
 unfoldincr of leaves or the sonof of the 
 birds, except on behalf of those foolish 
 feathered creatures who, like humanity, 
 are too apt to think that one fine day 
 makes a summer. 
 
 Pacing up and down the terrace, out- 
 side the drawing-room windows, is a 
 stout, pompous, middle-aged gentleman, 
 who, with his shooting jacket thrown 
 back, and his thumbs stuck into the 
 arms of his waistcoat, is contemplating 
 the grounds with an air of patronising 
 approval. You can read what he thinks 
 in his face. He is evidently saying to 
 himself, ' Yes, you are mine, and pretty 
 well up to the mark, I believe. I don't 
 suppose in all Barkshire there's a prettier 
 place than Temple Rising.' 
 
 If Mr John Bramton's feelings could 
 have been more thoroughly analysed, his
 
 The Telegram. 2)7 
 
 reflection would have been somewhat In 
 this wise, — ' Yes, it's a pretty place ; it's 
 a dooced good house ; they are monstrous 
 nice grounds, and so they ought to be, 
 considering I keep four gardeners to look 
 after 'em. Yes, no doubt it's a nice thing 
 to retire, and to become a country gentle- 
 man, but I'm not sure whether the old 
 villa at Wimbledon wasn't better fun. I 
 used to see my old friends there. Mrs 
 B. and Matilda said they were vulgar. I 
 don't know about that. Mrs B. tells me 
 I'm vulgar sometimes ; perhaps I am. I 
 wasn't brought up among Court circles. 
 If I had been, Mrs B. might have been 
 wearing silk gowns, but she'd have had 
 to do it on credit most likely. Well, she 
 and Matilda have got their way. Here 
 I am, John Bramton of Temple Rising, 
 and enrolled amongst the nobility and 
 gentry of Barkshire, — plenty of money in 
 my pockets, best of wine in my cellar, 
 dry champagne and Madeira that I'd 
 back to knock corners off anything the 
 Rioht Honourable Earl of Ranksborow
 
 38 Long Odds, 
 
 can show. Well, as I said before, here 
 we are, here we are likely to remain, but 
 the nobility and gentry of Barkshire don't 
 seem to trouble their heads about us. 
 It's aristocratic no doubt. We're classed 
 in the county blue book amongst the 
 nobs, but that's where it is ; we're not 
 classed among them anywhere else. It's 
 aristocratic, as I said before, but it's 
 devilish dull, and what's worse, Mrs B. is 
 always reminding me of that fact. She 
 blows me up about it, as if I could make 
 people call as when I was in the dry 
 goods' business. We put our best goods 
 in the window, and if that didn't fetch 
 customers we couldn't help it. Now, one 
 can't do that socially. If I got up a 
 tableau of Matilda in her best frock, and 
 a small table at her right hand containing 
 a vase of hothouse roses, and a bottle of 
 that extra dry champagne, and put it in 
 the dining-room window, nobody would 
 see it ; and I don't think I should quite 
 like to propose it to Matilda. She has 
 a soul above trade, and could never be
 
 The Telegra77i. 39 
 
 brought to see the beauty of a good 
 advertisement.' 
 
 John Bramton had made a very consid- 
 erable fortune in a wholesale dry goods' 
 business in the city. A wary man always, 
 when he be^an to find business irksome to 
 him, he resolved to retire. He had seen 
 too many of his compeers, who, under 
 similar circumstances, had elected to re- 
 main in their firms as sleeping partners, 
 abandoning the guidance of the ship to 
 other hands, and the result bring utter 
 shipwreck in the course of a few years. 
 When he left the helm, he resolved to 
 have no further share in the caro^o. He 
 retired to his villa at Wimbledon, and 
 enjoyed himself immensely, running into 
 the city constantly to have a crack with 
 his old friends, and frequently bringing 
 home stout, plethoric, middle-aged gentle- 
 men to dinner. 
 
 But this by no means suited the am- 
 bitious views of Mrs Bramton and her 
 eldest daughter. As for Lucy, the 
 youngest, as her mother and sister con-
 
 40 Long Odds. 
 
 tinually told her, she was a poor, mean- 
 spirited httle wretch, who had no proper 
 pride or self-respect. Mrs Bramton panted 
 to mix in county society, to give garden 
 parties to which the dlite of the neigh- 
 bourhood would be only too anxious to 
 attend. We know the old story, ' Water 
 wears away the stone, and a woman's 
 tongue by degrees will vanquish a man's 
 will.' In utter defiance of his own judg- 
 ment, John Bramton sold the snug villa 
 at Wimbledon in which the late prosper- 
 ous days of his life had been passed, and 
 invested in the far more pretentious manor 
 of Temple Rising. 
 
 'John, John, here's a telegram just come 
 for you/ exclaimed a stout, very dressy 
 lady, appearing at one of the French 
 windows opening on to the terrace ; ' and 
 have you taken any steps about what I 
 told you 1 ' 
 
 ' Perhaps you wouldn't mind being a 
 little more explicit. You see, my dear, 
 you tell me a good many things.' 
 
 * Now, don't be aggravating ; you know
 
 The Telegram. 41 
 
 what I mean. You must get appointed 
 one of the magistrates of the county. I 
 insist on your being on the bench.' 
 
 ' It's all very well, Margaret,' replied 
 John Bramton ; * but I can't appoint my- 
 self, and what's more, It would not be quite 
 the advantage you expect It to be. Where 
 is this telegram ? ' 
 
 ' Don't talk nonsense, John. In attend- 
 ing to your magisterial duties,' continued 
 the lady with great pomposity, ' you would 
 make the acquaintance of all the leading 
 people on this side the county. There's 
 the Earl of Ranksborow, why he lives 
 only four miles from us.' 
 
 'Just so, Margaret ; but these nobs have 
 a way with them,' replied John Bramton, 
 as he stepped through the window and 
 took the telegram from his wife's hand. 
 ' They would know me on the bench, but 
 not off it.' 
 
 As he spoke he tore open the orange 
 envelope, and suddenly exclaimed, — 
 
 * Good heavens ! it's from Lucy. Poor 
 Dick is dead, and she's coming home by
 
 42 Lo7ig Odds. 
 
 the next steamer. Poor fellow ! we haven't 
 seen much of each other of late years. 
 Our ways were so very different.' 
 
 ' Well, I am very sorry for your brother, 
 John, but I must say the peculiar language 
 he was wont to indulge in always did jar 
 upon my nerves.' 
 
 ' Poor Uncle Dick,' observed a showy, 
 fashionably-dressed young lady, who was 
 seated in a low chair by the fire, as she 
 laid down the book she was reading ; ' he 
 was dreadfully slangy, and it always puzzled 
 me how Lucy could like going abroad with 
 him. However, he was very kind-hearted.' 
 
 * Poor Dick, he was as kind a fellow as 
 ever stepped,' said John Bramton. 'As 
 for his talk, well I suppose it was the slang 
 of his business. Never understood any- 
 thing about racing myself, though, mind 
 you, I have been to the Derby. Now, 
 you needn't look, Mrs B. 'Twas many 
 years ago, long before I w^as married. 
 The only thing I remember about it is 
 that I came home with a broken hat and 
 a false nose.'
 
 The Telegram, 43 
 
 ' Uncle Dick's death must have been 
 very sudden,' remarked Miss Bramton. 
 ' In her last letter, Lucy described him as 
 being so much better, and having quite 
 lost his cough. The telegram, I suppose, 
 tells you nothing, papa.' 
 
 ' It only says this : " Uncle Dick died 
 suddenly ; am coming home by next 
 steamer ; particulars by mail.'"' The 
 chances are Lucy will be here almost as 
 soon as her letter.' 
 
 * There ought to be a bit of money come 
 your way, John. I should say your brother 
 was a well-to-do man ; and he has nobody 
 but you to leave it to.' 
 
 ' Goodness knows, my dear,' replied 
 John Bramton. ' I never understood that 
 trade of his ; but it's lightly come lightly 
 go with all those racing fellows ; their 
 pockets are full to-day, and empty to- 
 morrow. No need to speculate to what 
 poor Dick has left behind him or where 
 it goes.' 
 
 That the dead man's had been as much 
 a business as his own was a thing you
 
 44 Long Odds, 
 
 couldn't possibly have got into John 
 Bramton's head. In his mind there was 
 no difference between a race-course and 
 the tables at Monte Carlo. He really 
 was as ignorant about turf matters as it 
 was possible for any man in England to 
 be ; and that visit to Epsom, when he was 
 quite a young man, was the sole instance 
 of his ever being present at a race meet- 
 ing. He had always regarded his brother 
 as a perfectly unbusinesslike man, upon 
 no other grounds than that he got his liv- 
 ing in a way utterly unintelligible to him, 
 John Bramton ; and he honestly thought 
 that the probabilities were the deceased 
 had made no will, and left next to nothing 
 behind him. 
 
 But the family at Temple Rising were 
 destined to be still more astonished when 
 the post brought in the evening paper. It 
 had never occurred to the Bramtons that 
 Uncle Richard was a celebrity in his way ; 
 on the contrary, he was a relative of whom, 
 if anything, they were a little ashamed ; 
 and both John Bramton and his wife,
 
 The Teleg7^am. 45 
 
 especially the lady, had always treated 
 Richard in a more or less patronising way. 
 Their astonishment was boundless when, 
 upon opening the Globe, they read the 
 following telegram, dated Cairo, — 
 
 ' We regret to announce the death here, 
 under most melancholy circumstances, of 
 Mr Richard Bramton, a gentleman well 
 known in turf circles, and who, from the 
 extraordinary good fortune which attended 
 him on the race-course, had acquired the 
 sobriquet of " Lucky Dick Bramton." 
 The deceased gentleman, it seems, had 
 found his way into one of those low gam- 
 bling-houses, which, to our everlasting 
 disgrace, are still permitted to exist in 
 this city. It seems a fi^acas arose. In the 
 course of which some of the foreigners 
 used their knives freely, and the unfor- 
 tunate gentleman was so fatally stabbed 
 that he expired of his wounds within the 
 hour. The event is calculated to create 
 great excitement in sporting circles. The 
 deceased was the owner, though fortun- 
 ately not the nominator, of Damocles for
 
 46 Long Odds. 
 
 his numerous engagements, and this dark 
 youngster has the reputation of being 
 a two-year-old very much above the 
 common.' 
 
 ' Well,' said John Bramton, * upon my 
 word, it's very handsome of this newspaper 
 fellow to mention poor Dick in that 
 manner, although, perhaps, on the whole, 
 it would have been better if he had not 
 referred to where his death took place ! 
 Murdered, poor fellow ! God bless me ! 
 what else could he expect, going into such 
 a den as that ? Poor Dick, he always 
 was venturesome, and never could resist 
 gambling. It's a bad business, a bad 
 business.' 
 
 ' It must have been a very unpleasant 
 business for Lucy,' chimed in Miss 
 Bramton. ' How dreadful for her, poor 
 girl, to be mixed up in such a horrible 
 story.' 
 
 ' Now, look here, Matilda,' said her 
 father, ' what do you mean by " mixed 
 up ? " You don't suppose Lucy went 
 with her uncle to that den, do you ? '
 
 The Telegram. 47 
 
 ' I am sure I don't know,' replied Miss 
 Bramton, with a toss of her head. 
 
 John Bramton was persistently snubbed 
 by his wife and eldest daughter, and as 
 a rule bore it meekly ; but there was one 
 thing which they knew by experience 
 invariably provoked retaliation on his part, 
 and that was any abuse of Lucy. John 
 Bramton was very fond of his youngest 
 child, and never failed to take up the 
 cudgels on her behalf, although too easy- 
 going a man to do so on his own. A day 
 or two more, and, not a little to his sur- 
 prise, Mr Bramton received a letter from 
 Messrs Drysdel and Pecker, solicitors, 
 informing him that they were the legal 
 advisers of Richard Bramton, and request- 
 ing to know if he had received any con- 
 firmation of the death of their client, 
 adding that they knew no more than what 
 was reported in the papers ; but that, upon 
 making inquiry at the office of the journal 
 in which the original paragraph had 
 appeared, they had been informed that 
 the intelligence had been cabled home
 
 48 Long Odds. 
 
 by an old and trusted correspondent, and 
 that the editor felt no doubt as to its 
 accuracy. 
 
 *You may depend upon it, John,' ex- 
 claimed Mrs Bramton, when she heard 
 of this letter, * that he has left property 
 behind him. A man who has solicitors 
 is sure to be a man of substance, and, of 
 course, they communicate with you as the 
 next-of-kin.' 
 
 ' You are rather hasty in your con- 
 clusions, Mrs B.,' replied her husband. 
 * Bankrupt firms usually have solicitors. 
 I could fancy poor Dick perpetually want- 
 ing a lawyer to get him out of some hobble 
 or other.' 
 
 Now this, again, was a perfectly un- 
 warrantable assumption on the part of the 
 elder brother. He had never heard of 
 Dick being in a scrape of any kind ; but, 
 in his complete ignorance of the mysteries 
 of a trainer's calling, he looked upon him 
 as one of those who habitually occupied a 
 delicate position with regard to the police. 
 However, of course, he replied to the letter
 
 The Telegram. 49 
 
 of Messrs Drysdel and Pecker, informing 
 them that he had had a telegram from his 
 daughter which confirmed the news of her 
 uncle's death, that Miss Bramton was on 
 her way home, and was expected at 
 Temple Rising in a few days. His an- 
 swer produced another letter from Messrs 
 Drysdel and Pecker, in which they briefly 
 requested to be immediately apprised of 
 that young lady's arrival. 
 
 ' Suspicious chaps these lawyers ; must 
 have evidence that poor Dick is dead. I 
 suppose he fancies that Lucy can swear 
 to it.' 
 
 VOL. T.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 DICK BRA M ton's WILL. 
 
 There was a ringing of bells, and a sound 
 as if a tornado had swept through the 
 house, when about a week later Lucy 
 Bramton, in deep mourning, drove up to 
 the door of Temple Rising. It was not 
 in the least that this ostentatious style of 
 arrival accorded with Lucy's ideas, but her 
 father and mother had no notion of paying 
 servitors for nothino-. If the man at the 
 lodge didn't make the bell peal again, and 
 thereby give due notice to the outside 
 world that there were visitors at Temple 
 Rising ; if the butler did not throw open 
 the door with a crash, and make the very 
 walls resound with the name of those
 
 Dick Bramtons Will. 5 1 
 
 visitors ; if the very footman did not in 
 some way contrive to pervade the very 
 stairs with the intelHgence that Mr and 
 Mrs So-and-so had done the^nselves the 
 honour to call at Temple Rising, they 
 were of no account, and useless in the 
 eyes of Mr and Mrs Bramton. No people 
 these to conceal their light under a bushel ; 
 and if perchance a duke or very much 
 minor light of the peerage should deign 
 to call upon them, they were most dis- 
 tinctly of opinion that it would be good for 
 all Barkshire to know it. Poor Lucy, ter- 
 ribly shocked at the tragedy which, so to 
 speak, had taken place almost under her 
 own eyes, would have crept quietly enough 
 into her own home, if she could have done 
 so, but the henchmen of Temple Rising 
 were much too well-trained for anything 
 of this kind, and before she could clasp 
 her mother's neck, the name of Miss Lucy 
 Bramton was sounded through hall and 
 corridor, and neither the Grand Duchess 
 of Russia, nor the heiress of that mythical 
 monarch Prester John, could have been an- 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 ILLINOIS LIBRARlfi
 
 52 Lo7ig Odds. 
 
 nounced with greater fanfare of trumpets. 
 ' Miss Lucy Bramton ! Miss Lucy Bram- 
 ton ! ' resounds through hall and stair- 
 case, and then the slight girlish figure 
 in black is sobbing on the breast of a 
 middle-aged, bald-headed, prosaic-looking 
 gentleman. 
 
 * Very, very glad to see you back, my 
 dear!' exclaimed John Bramton. ' It has 
 no doubt been a terrible shock to you and 
 poor Dick. Well, of course, we always 
 knew he carried on anyhow, but I never 
 thought he would make an end of it that 
 way.' 
 
 ' Once for all, father, understand this,' 
 exclaimed the girl, rapidly releasing her- 
 self from his embrace, and drawing her 
 slender figure up to its full height, ' I will 
 listen to no reflections against Uncle Dick. 
 He might be rough, but he was ever to 
 me the kindest and most indulgent of re- 
 lations ; not a whim or caprice of mine 
 that he would not indulge. You are a 
 kind and a dear father to me, but even 
 you have never humoured me in the way
 
 Dick Bramton s Will. 53 
 
 poor Uncle Dick used. How he got into 
 that wretched place, how he met his doom, 
 I can't think. I, at all events, can bear 
 to hear no stones thrown at his memory. 
 I know what mother is, I know what 
 Matilda is, let them think as they like, 
 but please, please father, let them say 
 nothing against Uncle Dick's memory 
 before me.' 
 
 ' No, no ; certainly not, my dear. I'll 
 tell your mother, and I'll speak to Matilda. 
 They sha'n't trouble you, my pet,' and 
 then John Bramton inwardly wondered 
 what deference to his prohibition would 
 be accorded by that dictatorial wife of 
 his. 
 
 ' It was an awful shock for me when 
 they told me he was dead. He left me 
 after dinner, as he said, to smoke a cigar, 
 as he had done scores of times before. 
 What induced him to go to the vihainous 
 den at which he met his death, I can't 
 say. I have been abroad with him often, 
 and feel sure it was contrary to his usual 
 habits ; but he's gone. I kissed his dear
 
 54 Long Odds. 
 
 face, and I can't bear to hear anything 
 said against him. Let it be, father. He 
 has gone ; whatever his faults might have 
 been, don't let me hear of them.' 
 
 ' Quite right, my child, quite right,' said 
 John Bramton, gently patting the head 
 that nestled on his shoulder. ' I'll do my 
 best, but you are aware that your mother, 
 and, I may say, even Matilda, are a little 
 trying under these circumstances. Good 
 woman, your mother, very good woman, 
 but she will speak her mind, you know ; 
 and Matilda, well Matilda takes a litde 
 bit after her mamma. I will do my best. 
 I will speak to them ; but bless you, 
 Lucy, you know when your mamma is 
 ** on the rampage " she can't hold her 
 tongue ; and I wouldn't say a word against 
 Matilda for the world ; but whenever she 
 marries, I think her husband will come 
 pretty much to the same conclusion. Good 
 women both, my dear, but rather free of 
 speech.' 
 
 The third morning after Lucy's return 
 was signalised by the arrival at Temple
 
 Dick Bramto7is Will. 55 
 
 Rising of Mr Pecker, junior partner of 
 the firm of Drysdel and Pecker. He was 
 cordially welcomed by Mr Bramton in the 
 first instance, and at once proceeded to 
 unfold the object of his errand. 
 
 ' We have acted for some years as the 
 legal advisers of the late Mr Richard 
 Bramton. We made his will, which is 
 dated some five years back. It is very 
 simple, and to the best of our belief per- 
 fectly incontestable in any court of law. 
 The deceased gentleman was an excellent 
 man of business.' 
 
 'What!' exclaimed John Bramton ; 'Dick 
 a man of business ! Nonsense ! don't tell 
 me.' 
 
 The lawyer shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 ' Ah,' he said, ' I see ; like many other 
 people you're under the delusion that 
 racing men are not men of business. 
 You are wrong ; professional racing men 
 are about the most astute men of business 
 I ever come in contact with. I have 
 considerable experience of them, and 
 remember, I draw a great distinction
 
 56 Long Odds. 
 
 between racing men and men who go 
 
 racmg. 
 
 ' Well, to hear that poor Dick was a 
 man of business beats me ! ' said John 
 Bramton, evidently in utter amazement 
 at the bare idea. 
 
 ' You must take my word for it,' said 
 Mr Pecker, smiling. ' You will perhaps 
 also be surprised to hear that he was a 
 man of considerable property. As the 
 greater part of his securities are deposited 
 in our hands, and as we possess a list 
 of those which he thought fit to keep 
 at his bankers, we can speak confidently 
 on this point. Mr Richard Bramton 
 has left behind him about five-and-thirty 
 thousand pounds, besides his racing stud. 
 What that may be worth I have no 
 conception. I have no knowledge of 
 such matters.' 
 
 ' Five-and-thirty thousand pounds ! ' ex- 
 claimed John Bramton. ' Why I should 
 never have given Dick credit for as many 
 hundreds ; and who has he left it all 
 to.?' - .
 
 Dick Bramtoiis Will. 57 
 
 ' He has left everything, the horses In- 
 cluded, to his niece, Miss Lucy Bramton, 
 and you are appointed sole executor. I 
 have brought the will with me for you 
 to read ; it's very brief, and cannot well 
 be simpler, with the exception of this 
 codicil ; and about this, I must tell you, 
 I'm not quite sure. It sa)S, as you will 
 see,' and Mr Pecker pointed to the place, 
 ^ quite clearly that the horses are to be 
 run through their engagements. This, as 
 far as I understand, means that Miss 
 Lucy cannot dispose of the stud till such 
 engagements as have been made for the 
 various horses have been decided. Who- 
 ever has charge of them will, I presume, 
 advise her how to manage on that point ; 
 but it is open to question whether she 
 has the power of selling them before their 
 engagements have expired.' 
 
 ' You are aware, Mr Pecker, that my 
 daughter is a minor, that I consequently 
 am her natural trustee, and that what is 
 to be done with those horses will therefore 
 rest in my hands ; and I tell you what it
 
 58 Long Odds, 
 
 is, sir, I don't want any time to decide. 
 I know nothing about race-horses, and 
 don't want to. I'm not going to take to 
 gambling at my time of life. Those 
 horses go to the hammer before six weeks 
 are over our heads. 
 
 ' Ah ! ' said Mr Pecker, putting his head 
 rather on one side, * this gives rise to the 
 rather curious question of whether youVe 
 the power to act in this way. There is no 
 doubt about the body of the will ; but our 
 late client, just before starting on his last 
 unfortunate trip to Egypt, had his will, 
 together with some other papers, back for 
 a night, and has added this codicil himself, 
 without consultation with us. It is a deli- 
 cate and most interesting point to know 
 whether that codicil implies a wish, or im- 
 poses a condition.' 
 
 ' Condition ; nonsense ! ' exclaimed Mr 
 Bramton. ' You can't make it a condi- 
 tion that I'm to keep an expensive lot 
 of animals that I don't want.' 
 
 ' Oh, yes, my dear sir ; excuse me, 
 that's quite possible. Old^ ladies are very
 
 Dick B rami on s Will. 59 
 
 apt to provide for favouite cats in that 
 way. As I told you, I'm not quite pre- 
 pared to say the codicil does that. You 
 will have to take counsel's opinion on 
 it if necessary ; but as you are acting 
 for your daughter, and I can't suppose 
 that Miss Lucy would have any desire 
 to keep on her uncle's stud unless she 
 was obliged, it would be possible per- 
 haps to treat it as merely a wish ; and 
 then, my dear sir, it becomes a matter 
 of simply what deference you mean to 
 pay to the desire of your deceased 
 brother.' 
 
 ' Don't put it in that way ! ' exclaimed 
 Mr Bramton. ' Of course I am anxious 
 to do everything that poor Dick wished, 
 but he never could have intended that 
 either Lucy or myself were to take to 
 horse-racing. Now come into the other 
 room, and have some lunch.' 
 
 * In a few minutes, Mr Bramton, with 
 pleasure ; but I shouldn't be doing my 
 duty if I didn't personally read and ex- 
 plain this will to Miss Lucy. It won't
 
 6o Long Odds. 
 
 take five minutes, if you will only be good 
 enough to fetch her.' 
 
 John Bramton rose, and speedily re- 
 turned, accompanied by his younger 
 daughter. He had briefly explained the 
 fortune she had come in to, and what she 
 was wanted for. Mr Pecker, on being 
 introduced to her, wasted no time, but 
 proceeded at once to business. He read 
 the will through, codicil and all, and 
 briefly explained to her the doubt which 
 existed in his mind as to which way the 
 codicil was to be regarded, whether as a 
 wish or a condition, winding up with the 
 remark, ' But as this is a matter that lies 
 between you and your father, it is hardly 
 likely to be called into question.' He 
 then briefly congratulated her on her 
 inheritance, looked at his watch, and 
 said, — 
 
 ' And now, Mr Bramton, if you can, 
 give me something to eat. I've just 
 twenty minutes to spare before starting 
 for the railway station.' 
 
 Lucy had made no comment upon the
 
 Dick Bramton s Will. 6i 
 
 will, except to acknowledge the lawyer's 
 congratulations. She had hardly opened 
 her lips, but for all that, she had listened 
 very attentively to what Mr Pecker had 
 said to her, more especially with regard 
 to that strange codicil. To say that she 
 had come to any resolve concerning it 
 would be absurd. She did not exactly 
 comprehend as yet what it meant. All 
 she knew was this, that the colt called 
 Damocles was one of her uncle's most 
 cherished possessions, and that his dying 
 messao^e had commended Damocles to her 
 care. 
 
 About this period it suddenly dawned 
 upon Her Majesty's Government that a 
 person called the Mahdi was about to 
 occasion trouble in Upper Egypt. Her 
 Majesty's Government, with that grand 
 geographical ignorance that usually char- 
 acterises it, whether Liberal or Conserva- 
 tive, suddenly awoke to the fact that a 
 place called Khartoum was rather an im- 
 portant city in those parts which it be- 
 hoved them to hold. Her Majesty's
 
 •62 Long Odds. 
 
 Government, furthermore, became some- 
 how av/are that a person of the name of 
 Gordon had more knowledge of those 
 parts than any one Hving. Further, that 
 the said Gordon was an officer of con- 
 siderable distinction, and that, if there 
 was anything to be done in the way of 
 saving Khartoum, this was the man to 
 do it. Government, not particularly clear 
 about what the especial object was in 
 saving Khartoum ; not in fact very clear 
 about the Soudan and Upper Egypt 
 generally, but hazily aware that the Mahdi 
 promised to be an uncomfortable fact in 
 the case, and give trouble generally, at 
 la.st gave Gordon a roving commission to 
 do as he thought best for the pacification 
 of the Soudan, and then, after the usual 
 manner of British Governments, having 
 picked out the very best man for the 
 work, proceeded to tie his hands in all 
 possible directions. They took no notice 
 of what he demanded, although he made 
 his way promptly to Khartoum ; informed 
 them at once that it was the key of the
 
 Dick Bramtons Will. 63 
 
 Soudan, and that as long as he held that, 
 let what wild work might go on in the 
 desert, he was the virtual ruler of the 
 country. Government read his despatches, 
 said, ' We have bombarded Alexandria, 
 put down Arabi, taken Cairo ; good, it 
 will be time enough now to see about 
 Egypt in another year or two.' Letter 
 after letter, despatch after despatch, came 
 from the grand soldier who had taken 
 upon himself this terrible burden. The 
 errand which the Government had sent 
 him on they now sought to repudiate. 
 They tried to make out that his mission 
 had been of his own seeking ; but the 
 gathering roar of the British public at 
 last convinced them that they stood bound 
 to fall by the man they had virtually sent 
 to grapple with the insurrection of the 
 Soudan. 
 
 By this time all England was aware 
 that Chinese Gordon was shut up in 
 Khartoum, and was defending himself 
 against swarms of fanatical Arabs. Closely 
 beleaguered though he was, he managed
 
 64 Lo7ig Odds. 
 
 to get despatch after despatch through his 
 myriad foes ; and those short pithy de- 
 spatches never varied in their tenor. ' I 
 can hold my own/ he invariably said, 
 ' till the end of December ; that passed, 
 we shall be destitute of food, and I can 
 guarantee no more.' Months still inter- 
 veninor between this and December, but 
 the heat of summer having commenced, 
 and the fall of the Nile having begun, it 
 suddenly occurred to the Government 
 that, however late it might be for an ex- 
 pedition of this kind, the irritation of the 
 British public must be appeased. Utterly 
 deaf to the man they had doomed to de- 
 struction, the Government yielded to the 
 political outcry of the country, and sum- 
 moning all the military experts to their 
 councils, debated as to how Khartoum 
 might be most speedily relieved. That 
 they had probably hit upon the best 
 device to achieve that result is possible ; 
 we only know two things, they were 
 too late, and they did not take the 
 route which Gordon, who might be
 
 Dick Bramtons Will. 
 
 supposed to know something about it, 
 advised. 
 
 All this discussion and turmoil as to 
 the relief expedition took place just after 
 Lucy Bramton had come into her in- 
 heritance. 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE HELIOTROPE. 
 
 A VERY lively club was the Heliotrope, 
 much given to baccarat, poker, and divers 
 games at times not recognised at clubs 
 of greater stability, — one of those mush- 
 room night clubs that spring up and are 
 wont to have the mushroom's ephemeral 
 existence. All London — that is, the ten 
 or twelve thousand people who consider 
 themselves all London — would have un- 
 animously admitted that, to put it mildly, 
 the members of the Heliotrope were a 
 'lively lot.' It was a club with no archi- 
 tectural pretensions whatever ; indeed, the 
 three hundred members who constituted 
 it contented themselves with a roomy first
 
 The Heliotrope, 67 
 
 floor off the Strand. The club, indeed, 
 practically consisted of three rooms : 
 the supper-room, card-room, and kitchen. 
 There was much discussion, scandal, and 
 tobacco going on in the supper-room one 
 evening, when a studious member, who 
 had pulled himself together and devoted 
 himself to the mastery of the evening 
 papers, suddenly exclaimed, — 
 
 ' Hallo, Dart, here's something will 
 interest you ! ' 
 
 *Very glad to hear it,' replied a tall, 
 good-looking young fellow about thirty. 
 * It's such a godsend when anything does, 
 considering the awful way in which those 
 fellows down at St Stephen's bore us. 
 Can't conceive myself what makes the 
 governor so persistent about my going in 
 for representing the county. Suppose he 
 suffered from it himself in his youth, and 
 thinks it a wholesome chastisement for 
 his first-born. What's your news? If 
 you've found anything in that paper, 
 drawl it out.' 
 
 ' Only this,' replied the speaker ; * Dick
 
 6S Lon^: Odds. 
 
 Bramton has got wiped out in a gambling- 
 house row at Cairo : and considering your 
 father snapped all the yearling books 
 about Damocles when the colt was sold, 
 I thought it might interest you.' 
 
 'Interest me; by Jove ! I should think it 
 did ! ' said Lord Dartree. '' I took twenty 
 thousand to three hundred about Damocles 
 once, and the crovernor took it as often 
 as he could get it. In fact, between us 
 we captured every yearling book there 
 was going. Damocles is entered in the 
 name of his breeder, so that's all right; 
 but Avhat becomes of him is quite another 
 matter. Dick Bramton would have run 
 him as strai^^ht as a die. He is an 
 old racing pal of the governor's, and 
 knew he could have any fair share of 
 the plunder that he chose to stipulate 
 for.' 
 
 ' He'll most likely be sold now, I 
 should think,' observed Anson, the gentle- 
 man who had read out the news. 
 
 ' Suppose he will,' rejoined Lord Dar- 
 tree. •' I must try and persuade the gov-
 
 The Heliotrope. 69 
 
 €rnor to buy him, though how the deuce 
 we are to lay our hands on ten thousand 
 pounds, or whatever it is they want for 
 him, I'm blest if I know. We have got 
 partridges, we have got stabling, we have 
 got gardens, and no end of a library at 
 Knightshayes, but, my dear Anson, we 
 haven't got any money. Everybody 
 knows that the agricultural interest has 
 gone to the devil, and that your big 
 landowners are merely genteel paupers/ 
 
 ' Only wish I was one of you genteel 
 paupers too,' said Anson, who was one 
 of those extraordinary young gentlemen 
 who had knocked about town for years, 
 and couldn't if he tried have explained 
 to his dearest friend how he did it ; but 
 he had one of those elastic minds that 
 was equally prepared to discuss with his 
 friends the raising of ten thousand pounds 
 or a five-pound note. In fact, in his 
 more volatile moments, he had been 
 known to say that ' it was the insigni- 
 ficance of the sum required that made 
 the difficulty. You see,' he would con-
 
 70 Long Odds, 
 
 tinue, 'when you want a few hundreds, 
 and your name is well known about 
 London, the money-lenders can't believe 
 but what there is some prospect of your 
 paying ; but when you go to them for 
 dribblets, they want to know what office 
 you're in, or some rot of that sort. Drib- 
 blets are connected with clerkships ; 
 hundreds with visionary incomes.' 
 
 ' It's a deuce of a bore,' said Lord 
 Dartree. * From all I hear, this is an 
 uncommon smart colt, and the governor 
 stands to win over a hundred thousand 
 pounds on him. Now, if he's put up for 
 sale, it's as likely as not that he will be 
 bought by the very men who laid the 
 money, under which circumstances, it is 
 not likely he'll win the Derby next year.' 
 
 * No,' said Anson, ' it's hardly likely 
 they'll win the race for the pleasure of 
 paying you all this money. One don't 
 know, but the probability is the horse 
 will be put up for sale. Pretty sure to 
 be, unless there is racing stock in the 
 family ; and I always understood that
 
 The Heliotrope, 71 
 
 old Dick Bramton had neither chick nor 
 child ; never heard he had a relation of 
 any kind. Nobody knows much about 
 him. But he began life as a stable lad, 
 didn't he ? ' 
 
 ' Something of that sort/ said Lord 
 Dartree ; ' don't know exactly, but he 
 could always win races when he meant 
 business. The governor's no fool ; and 
 when he found out that Bramton had 
 bought the colt he went to him at once, 
 and said point blank, " I have got all the 
 yearling books about Damocles for the 
 Derby. My risk, not yours at present. 
 You have nothing to do but to tell me at 
 the end of his two-year-old career how 
 much you would like of them, and you 
 will find me quite reasonable." ' 
 
 * And what did he say ? ' asked Anson. 
 
 * " All right, my lord,' was his reply. 
 ** If the colt turns out as good as he looks, 
 you will have a rare run for your money." ' 
 
 ' It's uncertain property to invest in, 
 a two-year-old that has never run,' re- 
 marked Anson ; ' but then people wouldn't
 
 72 Long Odds, 
 
 lay such liberal odds if there was not all 
 the uncertainty about it. You'll have to 
 buy the colt if you can, or else come to 
 some arrangement with his new owner.' 
 
 ' I suppose so,' replied Lord Dartree. 
 'It's a great bore. Can't understand a 
 man like Dick Bramton getting into such 
 a scrape. Should have thought him too 
 clever a man to play against the tables.* 
 
 * You mieht have known better than 
 that,' laughed Anson. ' Who know better 
 the folly of backing horses than the book- 
 makers, and yet they do it at times.' 
 
 ' True,' replied Dartree ; * we all deride 
 the idea when in London of playing 
 against the tables, but as soon as we get 
 to Monte Carlo we feel bound to try our 
 luck.' 
 
 * Well, what becomes of Damocles must 
 interest you much. Still, if any one can 
 rise to the occasion, it Is your noble 
 father.' 
 
 'Why, that is just what I tell you he 
 can't,' retorted Dartree Irritably. * You 
 may know what to do, and not be able
 
 The Heliotrope. ']Z 
 
 to do it. This is a question of money, 
 and that is exactly what I have told you 
 the noble house of Ranksborow has not.' 
 
 ' No,' said Anson quietly ; ' but Lord 
 Ranksborow is a man of infinite resources, 
 more especially on the turf. It's very 
 easy to do most things with money, but 
 it takes a clever man to attain his ends 
 without. Now I have a very high 
 opinion of your father's talents in his own 
 line ; indeed, in any line. Years ago, he 
 showed in the House of Lords what he 
 could do ; and before that, in the House 
 of Commons, as Lord Dartree, was pro- 
 nounced one of the most promising young 
 ones out. But he cut politics for racing, 
 and, as we all know, is as good a judge 
 as any man on the turf.' 
 
 * Well,' rejoined Lord Dartree, ' he has 
 a great opportunity now for exercising 
 his faculties, and by hook or by crook 
 acquiring the control of Damocles. Buy 
 the colt he can't, unless they are willing 
 to sell on tick, Avhich is not at all likely.' 
 
 ' No,' rejoined Anson, ' there's not much
 
 74 Long Odds. 
 
 of that in horse-dealing ; still I've great 
 confidence in your father, and only wish 
 I had a bit of your book, for though the 
 colt has never run, I doubt a good man 
 laying you half the odds now.' 
 
 But if the members of the Heliotrope 
 were fluttered at the news of the death 
 of Dick Bramton, it made a much more 
 considerable stir down at Newmarket. 
 Stubber the trainer was simply, to use 
 his own expression, 'flabbergasted.' Even 
 his intimate friends, who really were as 
 much puzzled and disappointed about the 
 affair as himself, could not refrain from 
 laughing at Mr Stubber's melancholy re- 
 frain of ' What's to become of the bosses ? ' 
 He discussed the affair with them from 
 every point of view ; he vowed that 
 Damocles was the speediest yearling he 
 ever tried ; and look at the blood, too, 
 by Tyrant out of Packthread; the Tyrants 
 always stay. He eulogised the dead man, 
 and said, ' There were few shrewder men 
 on a racecourse than Mr Bramton. Why, 
 he'd have won a fortune with this colt ;
 
 The Heliotrope. 75 
 
 and now I should just like to know what's 
 to become of the hosses ? It's cruel I've 
 never had the luck to train the winner 
 of the Derby yet, and I did think I should 
 do it next year/ 
 
 The curiosity to know how Dick Bram- 
 ton had disposed of his property was very 
 great at Newmarket, but none of his 
 friends there seemed to be aware that he 
 had had a brother. In fact, though they 
 might be supposed to be better informed 
 about the dead man's family than the 
 members of the Heliotrope, they seemed 
 equally ignorant that he had either kith or 
 kin belonging to him. Still it is so rarely 
 that a man stands utterly alone in this 
 world, that they all supposed his property 
 would go to some distant relation ; but on 
 one point they were unanimous, and in 
 response to the trainer's dolorous question, 
 rejoined that the horses would come to the 
 hammer. Cold comfort all this for Sam 
 Stubber, who really was honestly wrapped 
 up in his charge. He was a conscientious 
 man, and thoroughly to be trusted, or he
 
 76 Long Odds, 
 
 never would have been employed by Dick 
 Bramton. He was a man of much experi- 
 ence, and though perhaps somewhat san- 
 guine, quite understood how to try a horse. 
 They had very good trying tackle in the 
 stable, and as far as it was possible to test 
 a colt of the age of Damocles, Mr Staples 
 had done so, and with very satisfactory 
 results. In fact, as he told his intimates, 
 he had never tried a youngster so high 
 in his life, and the thought that his 
 favourite would be probably taken out 
 of his charge was gall and wormwood to 
 him ; and of course it was probable that 
 whoever bought Damocles would transfer 
 the horse to his own stable. Still at 
 present he heard nothing from anybody 
 on this point, and at this Mr Stubber 
 and his friends marvelled greatly. What 
 could be the meaning of it ? Could 
 Richard Bramton have died intestate, 
 and were they searching for his heir, 
 or had he died insolvent ? He had made, 
 no doubt, a good bit of money on the 
 turf, but then there was the manner of
 
 The Heliotrope. ^"j 
 
 his death — killed in a gambling-house ; 
 and no people knew better than the 
 Newmarket men how quickly it is pos- 
 sible to knock down any amount of turf 
 winnings in houses of that description. 
 The rooms at Newmarket, like those at 
 Doncaster, had been wont to give in- 
 structive lessons on that point. In the 
 meantime the spring was drawing on. 
 The Two Thousand was a thing of the 
 past, and the New Stakes at Ascot had 
 been selected for the ddbut of Damocles, 
 when one morning, after returning from 
 the Heath with his charges, Mr Stubber 
 was informed there was a gentleman in 
 the parlour who had arrived from London 
 and wished to see him. Sam Stubber 
 at once went into the room, found his 
 visitor gazing in an absent way out of 
 the window, and invited him to join him 
 at breakfast. 
 
 * I shall be very glad,' replied the latter. 
 ' The morning air gives one an appetite, 
 and we can discuss our business over it as 
 well as anywhere. I must at once intro-
 
 78 Long Odds, 
 
 duce myself as Mr Pecker, of the firm of 
 Drysdel and Pecker, solicitors. I have 
 come down to see you about the racing 
 stud of our late client Mr Richard 
 Bramton.' 
 
 'Well, Mr Pecker, I'm right glad to see 
 you, though I am afraid you bring no good 
 news for me. What's to become of those 
 bosses has been a sore puzzle to me. I 
 suppose they're to be sold, and I should 
 very much like to know who'll buy two or 
 three of 'em.' 
 
 *Well, we've got no immediate instruc- 
 tions about them,' replied Mr Pecker ; 
 'but I should suppose that would be 
 their destiny, as far as we can guess. 
 What I've come down here for is to 
 make out a list of what horses there 
 actually are, and to ask you to give me 
 a rough valuation of them.' 
 
 * And whose property are they at this 
 minute ? ' inquired Mr Stubber. 
 
 ' That,' replied the attorney, ' I am not 
 at liberty to mention, and it's possible 
 you will never know. They will be sold
 
 The Heliotrope, 79 
 
 as the property of the late Mr Richard 
 Bramton ; and how he has disposed of 
 his personal property is, I take it, of not 
 very much consequence to anyone.' 
 
 * Before I say anything about the 
 valuation, Mr Pecker/ rejoined the 
 trainer, ' I should like to ask you when 
 you think of selling these horses, because 
 that would make a difference.' 
 
 ' Oh, I see,' rejoined the lawyer, ' some 
 times are more favourable for that sort 
 of thing than others.' 
 
 'Just so,' replied Mr Stubber ; 'the 
 most valuable horse, I reckon, in Mr 
 Bramton's stud, is a two-year-old called 
 Damocles. Now you can dispose of him, 
 no doubt, for a good round sum by private 
 contract ; on the other hand, you can run 
 him for the New Stakes at Ascot in 
 about three weeks' time — a race that he's 
 pretty certain to win, and which, if he 
 does win easily, will considerably in- 
 crease his value.' 
 
 • And which course should you re- 
 commend, Mr Stubber.^'
 
 8o Long Odds. 
 
 ' That must depend upon what sort of 
 a man the present owner is. In the first 
 method of disposing of the colt there is 
 no risk, in the second there is. The 
 youngsters in the New Stakes are mostly 
 dark, and there may be one, though I 
 don't think it, too good for us. If 
 Damocles got badly beat, the gilt would 
 be off the ginger-bread. Then there 
 are the chances of training. Damocles 
 is as sound as a roach, but legs will go, 
 and bosses give trouble when least ex- 
 pected. If his new owner's a sportsman, 
 he'll run him,' and Mr Stubber cast an 
 inquiring look at the lawyer. 
 
 ' I'm sure I can't say about that,' re- 
 plied Mr Pecker, with an amazed look. 
 ' I can only report what you tell me to 
 my client. I don't understand anything 
 about these things myself 
 
 * Then perhaps, sir, you wouldn't care 
 to go round the stables ? ' 
 
 ' On the contrary, if not against all 
 rules, that is precisely what I should like 
 to do,' rejoined Pecker.
 
 The Heliotrope. 8i 
 
 ^ ' Then come along,' said Mr Stubber, 
 'and I'll show you Damocles, and all the 
 rest of 'em.' 
 
 Mr Pecker was excessively pleased with 
 all he saw, and when introduced to Dam- 
 ocles, a lengthy dark chesnut colt, with 
 thighs let down like a greyhound's, not 
 only expressed the greatest admiration for 
 him, but was so pertinent in his remarks 
 about his shape, that the gratified Mr 
 Stubber, when he bade the lawyer good- 
 bye, said, — 
 
 ' Well, sir, you may know nothing about 
 racing, but you do know a good hoss 
 when you see one.' 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A DELICATE COMMISSION. 
 
 * It's all very well, John, but you must 
 exert yourself. Other folks have to do 
 it when they go into a new neighbour- 
 hood. You must make acquaintances ; 
 people must be made to call. You've 
 dragged us down here to Temple 
 Rising — ' 
 
 * Upon my soul, Mrs Bramton, I like 
 that,' interrupted her husband. ' Dragged 
 you down here, indeed, when the old villa 
 at Wimbledon was quite good enough for 
 me. You would have me set up as a 
 country gentleman ; you said it was more 
 genteel. It strikes me we are not quite 
 genteel enough for the people round 
 here — '
 
 A Delicate Coniuiission. %2> 
 
 ' Pooh, nonsense ! ' rejoined Mrs Bram- 
 ton ; ' they may be very great swells, but 
 they're a poor lot. As far as I can 
 make out, there's very few of them drive 
 such carriages as I do. I'm sure you 
 could buy most of them up. Even Lord 
 Ranksborow, who has never deigned to 
 take the slightest notion of us, I am told 
 is as hard up as any one. You surely 
 might scrape acquaintance with him.' 
 
 * I tell you it's impossible ; it's not the 
 thing, you know, for us to call first. I 
 did tread upon his toe at that meeting 
 about the flower show, and then apologise, 
 and remark it was a fine day. I took off 
 my hat to him quite affable the next 
 time we met, but, Lord ! he only just 
 touched his, and evidently didn't recognise 
 me in the slightest degree.' 
 
 * Now what did I tell you, John, were 
 my reasons for buying a country place ^. 
 Simply, I said, to get the girls well 
 married. You've lots of money, John ; 
 now what do the girls want ? — blood and 
 position.'
 
 84 Long Odds. 
 
 *Ah! I know,' returned her husband, 
 * this blue blood they're always talking 
 about ; but I don't know where they sell 
 it, or how to buy it.' 
 
 ' Don't talk nonsense ! ' returned the 
 lady sharply. ' There are lots of young 
 men among these county families who 
 would be only too glad to marry a good- 
 looking girl with money ; and, though I 
 says it myself, my girls can bear looking 
 at in a ballroom as well as any of them.' 
 
 * Well, it's no good talking about it, my 
 dear. I don't see how the girls are to 
 marry without meeting young men ; and 
 the people about here apparently don't 
 care about knowing us. Now, w^hen we 
 were at Wimbledon, there were lots of — ' 
 
 ' John ! stockbrokers and City men,' 
 interrupted Mrs Bramton. ' Yes, I know 
 that ; but I look higher a good deal for 
 my girls, I can tell you. We m2tst make 
 the people know us.' 
 
 ' It's all very well,' replied John Bram- 
 ton, * to say we must.' 
 
 ' Very well,' interposed his wife, ' then
 
 A Delicate Commission. 85 
 
 I'll put it stronger, and say they shall. 
 You know, Mr Bramton, I'm a woman of 
 energy — ' 
 
 ' Ah ! yes, my dear, and of great con- 
 versational powers. I have never known 
 you without something to say.' 
 
 And with this mild sarcasm John Bram- 
 ton was about to leave the room, when 
 the door opened, and a footman said, — 
 
 ' There's a gentleman to see you, sir, 
 on business.' 
 
 ' What have you done with him, Wil- 
 liam ? ' 
 
 * Shown him into your study, sir.' 
 
 ' Quite right, William ; quite right, 
 William,' said Mr Bramton pompously. 
 * Visitors to the drawing-room, people on 
 business to my study,' with which remark 
 he followed the servant to the room in 
 question. 
 
 A stout, middle-aged man, with grizzled 
 hair, keen eyes, and a shrewd face, who 
 was apparently admiring the pictures on 
 the walls, turned abruptly and greeted 
 him.
 
 S6 Lo7tg Odds. 
 
 ' You've a beautiful place here, Mr 
 Bramton. I couldn't help admiring it as 
 I drove up the avenue. These pictures, 
 too, are some of them remarkably fine.' 
 
 ' Yes, I believe they are. They ought 
 to be. I gave a lot of money for 'em. 
 I left that department when I was furnish- 
 ing to old Lazarus of Wardour Street, 
 and he assured me they were all gems 
 and all bargains. Ha! ha! I've been too 
 long in business to swallow that last, 
 Mr — ' and here John Bramton paused a 
 moment while he glanced at his visitor's 
 card, ' Mr Skinner. Still I don't think 
 old Lazarus would cheat me altogether.' 
 
 * I don't think Mr Bramton is a man 
 who is easily got the best of,' replied the 
 stranger, smiling. ' I have no doubt that 
 you are as good a judge of a horse as you 
 are of a picture.' 
 
 ' Tol-lol,' said John Bramton, drawing 
 himself up, and falling into his favourite 
 attitude with his thumbs stuck into the 
 armholes of his waistcoat. ' I keep my 
 fellow up to the mark, I can tell you.
 
 A Delicate Commission, 87 
 
 You'll see some rare, shiny-coated, long- 
 tailed ones in my stables.' 
 
 'Ah,' said Mr Skinner, *I see you 
 know how a horse oueht to look. We 
 are a horsey nation, and there never was 
 an Englishman who didn't consider him- 
 self a judge of a horse.' 
 
 John Bramton was flattered. The 
 stranger had tickled him like a trout. 
 
 ' A very pleasant, gentlemanly man,' 
 thought the host; 'sees at a glance I'm 
 a judge of pictures and horses. What- 
 ever business he has come about doesn't 
 seem to be urgent. I daresay he would 
 like a walk round the grounds. Hang 
 it ! I'll ask him to lunch. We don't see 
 many people ; it'll be a change. By the 
 way, Mr Skinner, perhaps you would 
 like to look round the grounds 1 ' 
 
 ' Of all things,' replied the stranger. 
 
 ' And will do us the favour of stop- 
 ping to lunch afterwards?' continued Mr 
 Bramton. 
 
 The stranger bowed assent, and in 
 another minute or two they were strolling
 
 88 Long Odds, 
 
 through the gardens and pleasaunce. Mr 
 Skinner admired everything, the hothouse, 
 the conservatory, the orchid house, vinery, 
 and stables. 
 
 * I think Temple Rising the most per- 
 fect gentleman's seat I've ever been over, 
 and I've had some experience. By the 
 way, Mr Bramton, I've been so taken 
 up in admiring the pictures, horses, 
 flowers, etc., I quite forgot to mention 
 that I knew your poor brother Dick 
 very well.' 
 
 ' Did you, indeed ! that's odd. Poor 
 fellow, I never knew exactly how he lived. 
 He was always gambling. Came by his 
 death through it.' 
 
 ' It was a bad business,' said Mr 
 Skinner ; ' and how Dick Bramton came 
 to go in for roulette, rather beats me. I 
 suppose he found it dull out there. No- 
 thing to do, nobody to talk racing with. 
 He wanted a little excitement, and he 
 would know how to take care of himself, 
 too. I don't mean when it came to 
 knives, for he was a little man, and a
 
 A Delicate Commission. 89 
 
 delicate man, but he was a very leading 
 man on the turf, I assure you, Mr 
 Bramton.' 
 
 ' Ah ! so I've understood lately. He 
 left a comfortable bit of money behind 
 him. They tell me,' and here John Bram- 
 ton looked a little inquisitively at his 
 auditor, * that he made a regular business 
 of it.' 
 
 Bramton, in fact, was not quite sure 
 whether Mr Pecker had not been either 
 mistaken himself or hoaxinof him when 
 he said that the turf could be made a 
 business. 
 
 * Business of it ! I should think he did ; 
 and so do most men who are really 
 on it.' 
 
 ' Come in at this window, Mr Skinner, 
 and let me introduce you to the ladies, 
 and then we'll go in to lunch.' 
 
 They stepped through the window. 
 
 ' Margaret, my dear,' exclaimed John 
 Bramton, * let me introduce you to a 
 friend of poor Dick's ! My daughters, 
 Mr Skinner.'
 
 90 Long Odds. 
 
 The visitor bowed, and then, turning 
 to Mrs Bramton, said, — 
 
 ' Yes, ma'am, Dick Bramton was a very- 
 old friend of mine, and was one of the 
 cleverest men we had. No man ever 
 made more dashing coups on the turf. 
 I assure you he was well known to all the 
 racing magnates.' 
 
 Now, Mrs Bramton, who during his 
 lifetime had had the greatest contempt 
 for her brother-in-law, had considerably 
 changed her opinion since she had learnt 
 that he had left five-and-thirty thousand 
 pounds behind him, and left it, as she 
 considered, though not quite properly, still 
 satisfactorily. ' It ought to have been 
 left,' she argued, * to her husband in the 
 first instance, even if it went to Dick 
 Bramton's favourite niece afterwards.' 
 Then she had been rather struck by the 
 very flattering notices about him that had 
 appeared in the papers. 
 
 ' Yes,' she murmured, * I believe he 
 was very well known to the members of 
 the Jockey Club.'
 
 A Delicate Commission. 91 
 
 Mr Skinner bowed assent. 
 
 * And a very successful man besides.' 
 
 * Very,' rejoined their visitor. 
 
 ' So clever, and so successful,' said Mrs 
 Bramton, smiling sweetly, * that I believe 
 the Jockey Club paid him the compliment 
 of warning him off the turf.' 
 
 Mr Skinner's sole reply was a burst of 
 lauo^hter ; and it was a minute or two 
 before he could at all master his risible 
 faculties. 
 
 ' Ten thousand pardons, my dear 
 madam ! ' he exclaimed at length, ' but 
 I'm sure you don't understand what you 
 have said. "Warning off the turf" is a 
 punishment for disgraceful practices on 
 it ; and poor Dick never did anything to 
 warrant that extreme sentence of the 
 Jockey Club.' 
 
 John Bramton, on hearing this expla- 
 nation, exploded even more boisterously 
 than Mr Skinner, while poor Mrs Bramton 
 blushed as red as a peony, and Miss 
 Bramton bit her lip with vexation, and 
 muttered to herself, —
 
 92 Long Odds, 
 
 * Mamma is always committing some 
 gaucherie like that.' 
 
 ' My eye, Margaret, you have put your 
 foot into it!' said John Bramton, as 
 soon as he could speak. * You see, Mr 
 Skinner, we ain't racing people. We 
 don't know anything about it. Poor 
 Dick and I went difterent ways in life, 
 and never saw very much of each other. 
 When we met, you see, we had nothing 
 in common. He didn't understand my 
 business, nor I his. In fact, I thought 
 his business was gambling until the 
 other day. Now let's come in to 
 lunch.' 
 
 ' Do you live in this neighbourhood, 
 Mr Skinner?' said Miss Bramton, as they 
 took their places at table. 
 
 ' No, I regret to say not. My business 
 compels me to live in London ; but it 
 must be a charming part of the country. 
 Thickly populated, so many gentlemen's 
 places, plenty of society, and all that sort 
 of thing.' 
 
 *Well, that's just what it isn't,' said
 
 A Delicate Commission. 93 
 
 Mrs Bramton. ' There are plenty of 
 people, no doubt, but they're not inclined 
 to be sociable, — rather stiff and stand- 
 off—' 
 
 ' Mamma, mamma,' interposed Miss 
 Bramton, * you forget. The fact is, Mr 
 Skinner, we are newcomers in the county, 
 and, as you know, it always takes time 
 to know people.' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Mr Bramton, ' your ma is 
 right, Matilda. That's just what they 
 are, 'aughty. Now, here's my neighbour 
 the Earl of Ranksborow, I'm sure I wish 
 to be sociable, but he don't seem to 
 see it.' 
 
 ' I think, papa,' said Lucy quiedy, 
 ' that you're a little impatient. I daresay 
 we shall know people in time, although 
 not perhaps the Earl of Ranksborow.' 
 
 * I am staying at Knightshayes,' ob- 
 served Mr Skinner. ' I'm sure you will 
 find the Earl a very pleasant and cour- 
 teous neighbour as soon as you know 
 him. Somewhat quick-tempered, perhaps, 
 but that's all.'
 
 94 Long Odds. 
 
 ' Oh ! no doubt,' replied John Bramton 
 hurriedly. ' I'm sure, when I trod on his 
 toe by accident at the flower show meet- 
 ing, he accepted my apology quite affable 
 like.' 
 
 ' Well, I really must be going,' said Mr 
 Skinner, rising. 'What with your charm- 
 ing place, and your kindness, I have 
 quite forgot what I came about. I must 
 ask for a word with you in your study 
 before I leave.' 
 
 * Certainly,' replied Mr Bramton, and 
 Mr Skinner having said good-bye to his 
 hostess and her daughters, followed his 
 entertainer to the room in question. 
 
 ' The fact is,' said the visitor, ' I have 
 been told you have inherited poor Dick 
 Bramton's racing stud. Amongst those 
 horses is a colt called Damocles. It has 
 never run, but I candidly own that it is 
 supposed to be good. I am commis- 
 sioned to offer you one thousand pounds 
 for him.' 
 
 ' One thousand pounds ! ' ejaculated 
 John Bramton. ' I know they give long
 
 A Delicate Commission. 95 
 
 prices for some of these racers, but a 
 thousand pounds is a mint of money.' 
 
 ' It is,' rephed Mr Skinner drily. ' I 
 have known as much paid many a time 
 for quite as good-looking youngsters as 
 Damocles, and they've turned out not 
 worth a row of gingerbread.' 
 
 ' Quite so, quite so,' replied John 
 Bramton. 'A thousand pounds! — you're 
 in earnest, Mr Skinner.-^' 
 
 ' Never more so,' replied that gentle- 
 man. ' I'll write you a cheque for that 
 sum now, and let you know where to 
 send the colt after it's cashed.' 
 
 ' A thousand pounds ! ' exclaimed John 
 Bramton, starting to his feet. * If poor 
 Dick's horses sell like this, he has left a 
 deal more than I reckoned on. Excuse 
 me one moment, Mr Skinner,' and so 
 saying John Bramton dashed off in search 
 off his daughter. 
 
 ' Lucy, my dear,' he exclaimed, as he 
 pounced upon her in the drawing-room, 
 ' here's such a chance to get rid of one 
 of those horses. Mr Skinner has offered
 
 96 Long Odds. 
 
 a thousand pounds for Dam — Dam — 
 something.' 
 
 ' Oh ! papa, papa ! ' cried Lucy. 
 
 * No, my dear, I don't mean that. I'm 
 not a damning anything, only I can't re- 
 collect the name of the horse.' 
 
 ' Damocles, I suppose, papa ? ' 
 
 ' That's it. Think what a chance, 
 Lucy ; a thousand pounds for a wretched 
 brute who does nothing but eat, and, as 
 Mr Skinner says, may turn out good for 
 nothing. You can buy yourself a pair 
 of ponies, or anything you like, and put 
 a lot into the bank besides. We shall 
 never get such a chance again.' 
 
 'I don't know, papa; I'm not so sure 
 about that. I know more about the value 
 of racehorses than you do. Mr Skinner, 
 remember, was an intimate friend of poor 
 Uncle Dick's. The probability is, that he 
 is a much better judge of what Damocles 
 is worth than either of us. I know Uncle 
 Dick thought a great deal of that horse ; 
 besides, what made Mr Skinner come all 
 the way from London to offer you a thou-
 
 A Delicate Connnission, 97 
 
 sand pounds for that horse, if he didn't 
 think he was going to make a good 
 bargain ? ' 
 
 ' Pooh ! he didn't come down on pur- 
 pose. He's staying,' continued Mr Bram- 
 ton pompously, and sticking his thumbs 
 into the armholes of his waistcoat, ' with 
 my neighbour, The Right Honourable 
 the Earl of Ranksborow/ 
 
 * Well, never mind where he came 
 from, papa. He wouldn't come over 
 here quietly and offer you a thousand 
 pounds if he didn't think he was getting 
 Damocles cheaply.' 
 
 ' Upon my word, Lucy, I believe you're 
 right. You see I never dealt in these 
 kind of goods before. Perhaps that 
 Skinner is trying to "best" me. Never 
 mind, Lucy, you'll find your old father 
 is a match for most of them,' and so 
 saying John Bramton returned to the 
 study. 
 
 * Well, Mr Skinner,' he said, as he 
 entered, ' I don't think it'll quite do. 
 My girls have a fancy for that horse. I 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 98 Long Odds. 
 
 think it 'ud make a nice lady's 'orse, for 
 instance.' 
 
 Mr Skinner opened his eyes wide. 
 That a man should go and consult his 
 wife and daughters about the disposal 
 of a racehorse was to him a thing past 
 all understanding. Recovering himself, 
 with an easy smile, he said, — 
 
 * You will have your joke, Mr Bram- 
 ton. Not quite enough, eh ? Well, I'll 
 make it guineas.' 
 
 But all John Bramton's business in- 
 stincts were now thoroughly awakened. 
 If Mr Skinner could afford to spring in 
 his bidding, it was obvious that he was 
 offering considerably less than the valua- 
 tion he put upon the colt in question. 
 
 ' No,' said John Bramton ; ' I won't 
 sell him just at present.' 
 
 'Well, no harm done,' replied Mr 
 Skinner, as he rose to go. ' I have had 
 the pleasure of making your acquaint- 
 ance, and shall be able to tell Lord 
 Ranksborow what very charming neigh- 
 bours he has got'
 
 A Delicate Commission. 99 
 
 ' Ah ! do now, do now. That's kindly 
 of you. Tell him we do the thing tol- 
 lollsh. Very glad if his lordship will 
 come In and take a snack with us any 
 time he is passing this way.' 
 
 Mr Bramton insisted upon accompany- 
 ing his euest to the door, where a neat 
 dogcart was awaiting him. Just before 
 stepping into It, Mr Skinner turned and 
 said, — 
 
 ' I tell you what, it's overstepping my 
 commission, but I'll take my chance of 
 that. This Is my last word. Here's 
 twelve hundred for Damocles, and I'll 
 write you a cheque this minute.' 
 
 ' No, no, thank ye,' replied Mr Bram- 
 ton. * No ; you see we've taken a fancy 
 to the horse — quite a pet in the family — 
 not to be thought of. Good-bye, good- 
 bye ; so glad to have seen you. Re- 
 member me to his lordship,' and with 
 these words Mr Bramton bustled back 
 into the house. 
 
 ' Good Lord ! ' he muttered, ' to think 
 that I should ever refuse twelve hundred
 
 TOO Long Odds. 
 
 pounds for a horse. If he had button- 
 holed me a minute longer on the steps, 
 I must have taken it. Oh, dear ! if Lucy 
 is wrong, I shall never forgive myself for 
 having missed a chance like that.'
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 MR SKINNER REPORTS PROGRESS. 
 
 The Rlofht Honourable the Earl of 
 Ranksborow had been not at all badly 
 described by Anson at the Heliotrope — - 
 an undoubtedly clever man, a brilliant 
 man in pretty nearly everything he es- 
 sayed, but wanting in one great thing, 
 namely, stability of purpose. He was 
 always disappointing his friends in what- 
 ever pursuit he took up. His early 
 efforts were invariably so crowned with 
 success that great things were expected 
 of him. At one time in the political 
 world he was regarded as one of the 
 most rising young men of his party. He 
 was then Lord Dartree ; and it was pro-
 
 I02 Lo7ig Odds. 
 
 phesied of him that, with practice, he 
 would become one of the best speakers 
 in the House. But suddenly he cast 
 politics on one side and took to steeple- 
 chasine, and distinoruished himself at first 
 by riding with great dash but equal want 
 of judgment. However, he threw him- 
 self into his new pursuit with all the 
 ardour habitual to him, and racing men 
 were soon full of astonishment at the way 
 in which he improved. At one time he 
 had dabbled in literature, and some of 
 his hunting and society ballads were in 
 all the world's mouth. One thing after 
 another he took up only to throw upon 
 one side just as he was beginning to 
 make a name in it. As one of his most 
 intimate friends said at the time, * Dar- 
 tree is a rare beginner, but he can't 
 stay.' To all the pursuits of his youth 
 the Earl had remained faithful only to 
 the turf and the whist-table. He had 
 lost thousands at the former, but the 
 latter was no doubt worth some hundreds 
 a year to him. He was a scientific player,
 
 Mr Skimier reports Prog7^ess. 103 
 
 and nobody had ever seen the Earl lose 
 his head either on the race-course or at 
 the card-table, which, considering his 
 naturally hot temper, showed that he had 
 considerable strength of mind when his 
 interests required it. 
 
 * So you bungled it, Skinner. I gave 
 you a pretty liberal limit, too ; and, from 
 all I can hear, this John Bramton was 
 neither likely to want the colt nor to be 
 aware of his value.' 
 
 ' No, my lord,' rejoined Skinner quietly, 
 * I have made no mess of it whatever. I 
 did not bid to anything like what you said 
 I might. It would have been no good ; 
 it would have been showing one's hand 
 for nothing. This John Bramton knows 
 nothing of horses, but is a shrewd man, 
 with commercial instincts. The minute 
 he found I wanted the colt, he rushed 
 at the conclusion that it was worth 
 more than I bid for it. He doesn't 
 know what it's worth, but he is terribly 
 afraid of letting it go under its full 
 value.'
 
 I04 Long Odds. 
 
 * And there are plenty of people to tell 
 him that,' growled the Earl. 
 
 *Yes,' rejoined Skinner; 'and you 
 know, my lord, there are plenty of people 
 would go a good deal higher for the colt 
 than you authorised m.e.' 
 
 'Yes! Confound it! I'd bid high 
 enough if I had it, but then I haven't. 
 Damocles is worth more to me than he 
 is to any one else.' 
 
 The scene of the above conversation 
 was Lord Ranksborow's private den at 
 Knightshayes — a very different sanctum 
 from that of Mr Bramton. Instead of 
 pictures, the walls were lined with book- 
 cases containing a curious medley of litera- 
 ture. The Racing Calendar stood cheek 
 by jowl with Horace, Juvenal, Tacitus, 
 etc., while the English classics were 
 mixed up with the Sporting Magazine 
 and numerous old books which referred to 
 the turf in its earlier days. Above the 
 fireplace was a large oil-painting — the sole 
 one in the room — representing the great 
 match between Voltigeur and the Flying
 
 Mr Skinner reports Progress. 105 
 
 Dutchman, run over the Knavesmire in 
 '52, while opposite this was a tall ma- 
 hogany cabinet with glass doors, through 
 which you could see trays filled with 
 cigars of every description, something like 
 one of those cabinets in which collectors 
 keep birds' eggs, only on a larger scale. 
 Mr Skinner had so far told the truth 
 when he had said that he was staying at 
 Knightshayes. Indeed he often came 
 down for a night or two ; but he certainly 
 had not informed Mr Bramton of his exact 
 position there. He was a very leading 
 turf commissioner, and amongst his clients 
 had for many years numbered Lord 
 Ranksborow. In fact, in the early part 
 of his career, Mr Skinner had been in- 
 debted to the Earl for many remunerative 
 commissions, and owed his first start 
 in his vocation to that nobleman having 
 taken him up and recommended him to 
 two or three of his racino^ friends. But 
 the Earl treated him completely as a man 
 of business. He was always comfortably 
 put up, an excellent dinner and bottle
 
 io6 Long Odds. 
 
 of wine was always provided for him, and 
 Lord Ranksborow would sometimes dine 
 with him in the library ; but. he would 
 have as soon thought of asking his butler 
 to join the family circle as Mr Skinner. 
 * What the deuce is to be done ? I 
 fancied the looks of that colt immensely 
 when he came into the sale-ring. When 
 Dick Bramton endorsed my judgment 
 by giving a long sum for him, I fancied 
 him still more, and, as you know, I 
 snapped every yearling book I could get 
 hold of about him. Of course I told Dick 
 he could have as much as he wanted, and 
 he told me, poor fellow, just before he 
 went to Egypt, that he had tried him — " a 
 clipper." Stubber told me the same thing 
 again this spring. I never had such a 
 chance ; and now, goodness knows into 
 whose hands the colt will go. What the 
 devil is to be done, Skinner ? Take a 
 weed, Skinner. Put on your considering 
 cap, and think it out,' and as he spoke 
 the Earl pushed his cigar-box across to 
 his commissioner.
 
 Mr Skinner reports Progress. 107 
 
 The latter carefully selected a Cabana 
 from the box, lit it, and smoked for two 
 or three minutes in silence. 
 
 ' There's only one way out of It that I 
 can see, my lord,' he observed at length. 
 
 * I suppose you mean a big ten thousand 
 pounds and have done with it. I tell you 
 I can't ; I haven't got it.* 
 
 ' No ; I don't mean that exactly. I 
 think I see a way by which you might 
 possibly become owner of Damocles for 
 very much less money than that ; say 
 for the fifteen hundred which you author- 
 ised me to go to. And you know, my 
 lord, that anybody who knew anything 
 about horse-flesh would simply laugh at 
 such a bid as that. Our only chance of 
 getting hold of Damocles was Mr Bram- 
 ton's total Ignorance of everything con- 
 nected with racinor.' 
 
 'All's fair in horse-dealing,' rejoined 
 the Earl sharply. ' Be good enough, 
 Skinner, to remember that I don't employ 
 you to moralise, but to act.' 
 
 His lordship was quite aware that, in
 
 io8 Long Odds. 
 
 attempting to buy Damocles at the figure 
 he proposed, he was being guilty of a 
 piece of uncommon sharp practice, and 
 by no means relished being reminded of 
 it by his subordinate. 
 
 'Well, my lord,' said Skinner, 'I think 
 if you would drive over to Temple Rising 
 and see Mr Bramton yourself, and offer 
 him the fifteen hundred, he would very 
 likely take it from you.' 
 
 ' I don't see that he is more likely to 
 take the price from one man than another. 
 If you thought that, why the deuce didn't 
 you offer it him .^ ' 
 
 ' Because, my lord, I don't want to lose 
 your custom. I've heard you say again 
 and again that you never employ fools 
 knowingly. I purposely stopped at twelve 
 hundred, in order to leave you an open- 
 ing.' 
 
 ' I'll be hung if I understand you ! ' 
 exclaimed the Earl. 
 
 ' Mr Bramton has just bought a pro- 
 perty near you, and is simply dying to 
 make your acquaintance. Take my ad-
 
 Mr Skinner reports Progress, 109 
 
 vice ; call upon him at once, admire his 
 place and welcome him cordially to the 
 country. Call upon him again two or 
 three days later, offer him fifteen hundred 
 for Damocles, and I'll bet you a level fiver 
 it's a deal' 
 
 * What ! call upon that d — d trades- 
 man ! ' exclaimed the Earl. 
 
 ' Think of Damocles/ softly murmured 
 Mr Skinner, and then Lord Ranksborow 
 burst into a peal of laughter. 
 
 ' What on earth put this idea into your 
 head?' 
 
 * When one goes horse-dealing, one 
 naturally looks out for the weak points 
 both of the horse and his owner. You 
 know the old cant, my lord, of the dealer's 
 yard, " I wouldn't part with that animal to 
 any one but a real horseman like yourself." 
 Of course the dealer there is simply tick- 
 ling his customer's vanity. You must 
 tickle Mr Bramton's vanity. I don't sup- 
 pose he ever knew a real lord before, and 
 he's just simply death upon knowing one 
 now.'
 
 I lo Long Odds. 
 
 'By Jove! I'll do It, Skinner!' cried 
 the peer, laughing, * I'll do it ! ' 
 
 * Remember, the sooner the better. As 
 soon as it oozes out who Damocles 
 belongs to, it's quite likely there will be 
 others as anxious to buy as we are.' 
 
 ' Yes, and with more money,' muttered 
 the Earl. * No, you're quite right ; it 
 must be done at once. I'll drive over to- 
 morrow afternoon.' 
 
 ' By the way,' said Skinner, laughing, 
 * I quite forgot Bramton's message. He 
 sent you his kind regards, and he hoped, 
 any time you were passing, you would 
 drop in and take a snack.' 
 
 ' Confound his impudence ! ' exclaimed 
 the Earl. , 
 
 ' He further bid me tell you,' continued 
 Skinner, his mouth twitching with sup- 
 pressed laughter, ' that they did the thing 
 tol-lolish at Temple Rising.' 
 
 For a moment Lord Ranksborow's eyes 
 flashed, and then the absurdity of the 
 whole thing struck him, and he once 
 jiiore burst out into a peal of laughter.
 
 Mr Skinnei'' reports Progress. 1 1 i 
 
 ' I will, Skinner ; by heavens, I will ! 
 On the strength of that message, I'll go 
 over to lunch there to-morrow. I'll make 
 myself deuced agreeable both to Bramton 
 and all the ladies of the family.' 
 
 ' There's one thing more, my lord. Do 
 you think the ladles of your family — ' 
 
 ' Stop, sir,' interrupted the Earl. * My 
 calling is one thing ; it does not much 
 matter whom I know. With the Countess 
 and my daughters it's a very different 
 thing.' 
 
 ' Well, my lord, of course it's not for me 
 even to pretend to know anything about 
 these things, but remember it's a card in 
 your hand. If the Countess would call, 
 and you could just once in a way ask 
 them over to a family dinner, upon my 
 word, when you came to the wine and 
 walnuts, I think Mr Bramton would give 
 you Damocles.' 
 
 ' You mean well. Skinner, but I can't 
 have the Countess and my daughters 
 mixed up with such a menagerie as this.' 
 
 * I can be of no further use to you, my
 
 1 1 2 Lojtg Odds, 
 
 lord, in this matter, and will be off by the 
 early train to-morrow morning. Any 
 other instructions you have got to give 
 me, you will of course write or wire to 
 the Victoria Club.' 
 
 * Good-night, Skinner ; you've done 
 your best, and though you couldn't ac- 
 complish the deal, we have at all events 
 got soundings.' 
 
 * Good-night, my lord,' rejoined the 
 commissioner, as he threw the end of his 
 cigar into the fireplace and took his bed- 
 room candle. 
 
 ' A shrewd fellow that,' muttered the 
 Earl, as the door closed behind his agent. 
 ' I always said he would come to the top 
 of the tree ; and I suppose he has the 
 working of quite half the big commissions 
 that come into the market, and nobody un- 
 derstands the manipulation of the strings 
 about a big handicap better. That was a 
 masterly stroke of his, stopping at twelve 
 hundred ! It leaves me the chance of 
 offering fifteen hundred in an outburst of 
 patrician liberality,' and the Earl chuckled
 
 Mr Skinner reports Progress. 1 1 3 
 
 at his own sarcasm. 'What a judge of 
 human nature the beggar is ! He turned 
 that John Bramton inside out during the 
 couple of hours he spent at Temple 
 Rising. Poor Molyneux ! to think that 
 Temple Rising should pass into the hands 
 of a fellow who has made his money in 
 soap boiling, grey shirtings, or some such 
 business. It seems but yesterday Moly- 
 neux and I had our cottage at New- 
 market, and always took a place at Ascot 
 together. I wonder where he is now. 
 I implored him to hedge his Vanguard 
 money that Cesarewitch day, and I can 
 recollect now the smile with which he 
 said, " It's neck or nothing this time, old 
 man. I've got every acre of Temple 
 Rising on it. I'm going for the gloves, 
 and intend to be a man or a mouse over 
 this," and mouse it was. Ah, well, if 
 Knightshayes hadn't been strictly entailed, 
 I'm not certain it would be in the family 
 now. Well, to-morrow I must go over 
 and call upon this vulgar tradesman, I 
 suppose. If I could only get Damocles 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 114 Long Odds. 
 
 into my own hands, I'd give the ring a 
 shaker. Sharp fellow, Skinner, and not 
 given to make mistakes. I hope he hasn't 
 made one upon this occasion. By the 
 way, I wonder what Skinner was. He 
 must have had a superior education and 
 bringing up, he is so much better man- 
 nered than most of his brethren. An odd 
 thing one is always hearing stories of 
 what the leading bookmakers were before 
 they took to their present profession. 
 Heaven knows whether these legends 
 are true or not, but the odd thing is I 
 never heard anybody claim to know what 
 Skinner's antecedents might have been,' 
 and absorbed in this conjecture, his lord- 
 ship betook himself to his chamber. 
 
 As for the subject of these speculations, 
 he murmured, as he laid his head upon his 
 pillow, — 
 
 ' He'll only half do it, I know. His 
 confounded pride will stand in his way. 
 Yet, if any man on the turf wants a turn, 
 it's the Earl of Ranksborow. If he would 
 only just put his pride in his pocket, drive
 
 Mr Skinner reports Progress. 1 1 5 
 
 over to Temple Rising with the Countess, 
 and be a bit sociable with the Bramtons, 
 he might just now have Damocles at his 
 own price. Til lay a hundred but he'll 
 only half do it to start with, and before 
 he has thoroughly made up his mind to 
 swallow the Bramtons, John Bramton will 
 have come at the fact that the colt is 
 worth a deal of money.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 LORD RANKSBOROW CALLS. 
 
 John Bramton's daughters had been, as 
 is so often the case, brought up in a ver)' 
 different style from their father and mother. 
 They were quite ignorant of the genteel 
 poverty in which their parents' early days 
 had been passed. They had never seen 
 anything of that close economy in the 
 household which had been necessary, when 
 they were too young to recollect it, in 
 order to make both ends meet. John 
 Bramton had got his foot upon the ladder 
 when he ventured to marry, and his pro- 
 gress up it had been rapid. ^ 
 
 By the time Matilda and Lucy Bramton
 
 Lord Ranksborow calls. iiy 
 
 were children old enough to take note of 
 such things, their father, though not rich, 
 was in comfortable circumstances, and 
 from that time his store increased rapidly 
 year by year. He was a capital business 
 man, and a lucky one to boot, as lucky 
 in one line as his brother had been in 
 another. His daughters were sent to the 
 best of schools, and finished off at a 
 fashionable boarding-school. They were 
 pretty, lady-like girls, but differed a good 
 deal in disposition. Matilda was burning 
 with a desire to push her way into good 
 society, and looked down upon her father's 
 old friends and acquaintances with the 
 greatest contempt. She it was who, 
 working through her mother, had been 
 the main cause of their sellintr the villa 
 at Wimbledon and purchasing the estate 
 of Temple Rising from its luckless and 
 ruined owner. She wished to sever all 
 connection with what she was pleased 
 to term her father's ' City set,' and 
 had only just discovered that it docs 
 not follow that, because you settle in a
 
 1 1 8 Long Odds. 
 
 county, that county will receive you with 
 open arms. 
 
 Lucy differed in some respects from her 
 sister. She was quite as much awake to 
 the pleasures of good society as Matilda. 
 It was natural that both girls, refined as 
 they had been by their bringing up, should 
 shrink a little from the boisterous jokes 
 and vulgarity of their father's old friends. 
 He himself often set Matilda's teeth on 
 edge in this wise ; and of her mother's 
 gaucheries that young lady had much 
 horror. Lucy was equally alive to her 
 parents' weaknesses in this wise ; but the 
 difference between the two eirls was this : 
 that whereas Matilda could scarcely con- 
 ceal her impatience of her father and 
 mother's failings, Lucy never forgot that 
 they were her father and mother — a cir- 
 cumstance which, when irritated, Matilda, 
 if she remembered, was apt to take slight 
 heed of. 
 
 The Miss Bramtons, in short, had been 
 educated to a standard considerably above 
 that in which their parents habitually
 
 Lord Ranksborow calls. 119 
 
 mixed, and it was little wonder that they 
 were both somewhat discontented with 
 their lot. It is hard upon girls who have 
 been brought up as ladies, to be unable 
 to find amongst the men of their acquaint- 
 ance any whom they can quite regard as 
 gentlemen, and that was one reason that 
 made Lucy so fond of travelling about 
 with her late uncle. 
 
 Dick Bramton, although by no means a 
 refined man, was not so essentially vulgar 
 as his brother. If he mixed on the turf 
 with a rough lot, he also associated there 
 with men of undeniable polish and culture, 
 such as the Earl of Ranksborow, to wit. 
 Then, while travelling with him, Lucy 
 came across many pleasant people, who 
 were also wandering, and who, whatever 
 they might be at home, were unmistak- 
 ably well-bred. A pretty girl like Lucy 
 Bramton was almost sure to attract the 
 best young men, either on the steamers 
 or at the table d'hote, to her side ; and she 
 found their society infinitely more pleasant 
 than that of those young gentlemen in
 
 I20 Loiior Odds 
 
 ib 
 
 business who frequented the villa at 
 Wimbledon. 
 
 It would be absurd to suppose that 
 Lucy had forgotten that tall, good-looking 
 dragoon whom she had met at Shepheard's 
 Hotel. Captain Cuxwold had stood as 
 far as he could between her and the first 
 great sorrow of her life. She had been 
 inexpressibly shocked and grieved at her 
 uncle's death — an uncle who, let his faults 
 be whatever they might, had always been 
 most kind and indulgent to her. Cuxwold, 
 she knew, had saved her an infinity of 
 trouble, and she felt very grateful to him, 
 not only for the trouble he had taken, 
 but also for the delicate consideration he 
 had shown in all the arrangements he had 
 made for her. It was natural, under these 
 circumstances, that he should be often 
 present to her thoughts. Moreover, the 
 war clouds were once more rolling up over 
 the desert, and whether the Government 
 liked it or not, whether they cared to save 
 Khartoum, or whether they did not, it was 
 evident to all men that the Mahdi had to
 
 Lord Ranksborow calls. 121 
 
 be confronted and stemmed. From the 
 sands of the desert, from the waters of the 
 Oxus and Zaxartes, there has never been 
 any difficulty about gathering a horde of 
 vvarhke adventurers whenever a leader 
 arose who, dubbing himself prophet, fired 
 the fanaticism of his followers, and filled 
 their souls with the lust of plunder. From 
 time immemorial the bait dangled before 
 the eyes of the Turcoman has been India; 
 and again and again has he swept through 
 the wild Afghan country, and spread deso- 
 lation to the banks of the Ganges. To 
 the Arab, the lure has always been Lower 
 Egypt ; and when the green banner of the 
 prophet was first unfurled, it seemed as 
 if little less than the domination of all 
 Europe would content the wild horsemen 
 of the desert. 
 
 Little use to say the Mahdi was a mere 
 fakir, an outcast priest come from the 
 scum of the people, what you will. He 
 was a force and a focus for thousands of 
 the wild hordes of the desert ; and un- 
 disciplined though they might be, these
 
 122 Long Odds. 
 
 children of the sandy sea were men of 
 thews and sinews, reckless of life, and 
 could be depended upon to follow their 
 chiefs to the death. Interest be^an to 
 rise high in England when the fact was 
 grasped that the roar of public indignation 
 had at last made the Government tardily 
 decide to rescue the man whom they had 
 sent to pacify the Soudan, and then appar- 
 ently forgotten. There was something 
 dramatic in the picture of this one man 
 breasting the full flood of fanaticism ; in 
 this leader, abandoned by his chiefs, stand- 
 ing with colossal heroism in the breach 
 against anarchy ; in this one man dominat- 
 ing, by sheer ascendancy of will, over the 
 half-hearted and treacherous population- of 
 a city, and inducing them to stand the 
 privations of a siege. The attention of 
 England was centred on the hero of Khar- 
 toum, and the problem now was by what 
 means could assistance be most speedily 
 conveyed to him ; and over this point 
 there was much discussion^ amongst the 
 great military chiefs of the kingdom.
 
 Lo7^d Ranksborow calls. 123 
 
 That the expedition would have no easy 
 task before it was perfectly well recog- 
 nised, and that the race they were about 
 to encounter were made of very different 
 stuff from the Egyptians they so easily 
 beat at Tel-el- Kebir, was also perfectly 
 well known. 
 
 From having been in Egypt, and heard 
 a great deal of course about the first cam- 
 paign, Lucy naturally took a very deep 
 interest in everything connected with the 
 country. More especially did she feel 
 interested as to what share the 24th 
 Lancers might bear in the forthcoming 
 expedition. 
 
 She had promised Captain Cuxwold at 
 parting to let him know of her safe arrival 
 in England. That promise had been dul)' 
 kept, and she had received in reply a very 
 pleasant, chatty letter, in which the writer, 
 while expressing himself intensely sick of 
 Cairo, wound up by saying, — ■' But there 
 surely must be work for some of us before 
 long. The whole world will cry shame 
 on England if she abandon Gordon at
 
 124 Long Odds. 
 
 Khartoum, though how we are to get 
 to him, I confess I don't see. How- 
 ever, thank Heaven, that's a point which 
 our chiefs have to determine ; but it is 
 not likely that the Arabs will allow us 
 to promenade the desert without trying 
 what w^e're made of.' And then, con- 
 gratulating her upon being in England 
 instead of grilling at Cairo, he con- 
 cluded with ' Most sincerely yours, Jack 
 Cuxwold.' 
 
 We are all apt, on the verge of a cam- 
 paign, to speculate whether our friends, 
 relations, or even acquaintances will take 
 part in it, and therefore it is small wonder 
 that Lucy Bramton constantly wondered 
 whether the 24th Lancers would take part 
 in this expedition, which the papers fore- 
 told was not likely "to attain its end with- 
 out some sharp fighting of the tribes of 
 the desert. 
 
 Mr Bramton was sitting in the drawine- 
 room, yawning over the Times, and, sooth 
 to say, not a little weary of his new role 
 of a country gentleman.
 
 Lord Ranksborow calls. 125 
 
 ' It's all very well, Margaret,' he ob- 
 served, ' but I like Wimbledon better. 
 There were always lots of people to come 
 and see us, at Wimbledon, and then I 
 could always run into the City, and have 
 a crack with my old friends. No ; I 
 know, my dear, this is very genteel, but 
 it's devilish dull' 
 
 ' Nonsense ! You'll be all ri^ht when 
 we get to know people, and when you've 
 been made a magistrate. You ought to 
 farm a bit ; it's the proper thing for a 
 country gentleman to do.' 
 
 'Is it ? Then for once, Mrs Bramton, 
 I decline to play the part of a country 
 gentleman. Farming means ruin to those 
 who understand it. What it means to 
 those who don't, I'm sure I can't guess. 
 Oh, dear ! I wish lunch was ready ; it's 
 something to do, at all events.' 
 
 Suddenly the door was thrown open, 
 not by a footman, but by the butler in 
 person, who in full unctuous tones rolled 
 out the name of ' The Earl of Ranks- 
 borow.' The announcement of their
 
 126 Long Odds. 
 
 noble neighbour fell like a bombshell 
 upon the worthy pair. Mrs Bramton at 
 once began to shake out her skirts, while 
 as for her husband, he bounced out of 
 his chair, and advancing to the Earl, who 
 was making his way up the room, ex- 
 claimed, — 
 
 'How d'ye do, my lord? Happy 
 to make your lordship's acquaintance. 
 Lovely day, isn't it?' 
 
 'How d'ye do, Mrs Bramton?' said 
 the Earl, as, having shaken hands with 
 his host, he crossed to address the lady 
 of the house. ' I got a message from 
 an acquaintance of mine whom you 
 were good enough to show your place 
 to yesterday; and I've taken you at 
 your word you see, Mr Bramton. I 
 was passing, and I've come in to beg 
 some lunch.' 
 
 ' Only too happy, my lord,' rejoined 
 Bramton, as he made a nervous snatch at 
 the bell. ' Lunch, Peters, at once,' he 
 remarked to the butler,, as that function- 
 ary entered the room ; ' and Peters, ahem ! '
 
 Lord Rank sborow calls. 127 
 
 and here the Httle man indulged in a 
 perfect code of telegraphic signals, and 
 finally grievously tried Lord Ranksborow's 
 gravity by exclaiming, in a most audible 
 stage whisper, ' the extra dry, remember, 
 Peters.' 
 
 ' He evidently means doing me tol- 
 lolish,' thought the Earl, struggling hard 
 to restrain his laughter. 
 
 * It's a beautiful place your husband 
 has bought, Mrs Bramton. Temple Ris- 
 ing always puts me out of all conceit with 
 Knightshayes. My place is bigger, but 
 it's not half so pretty as this ; nor is my 
 old barrack near so comfortable a house 
 as yours.' 
 
 ' You know it well, of course, my lord '^. ' 
 said Mrs Bramton. 
 
 ' Known it all my life,' replied the 
 Earl. ' Poor Molyneux was a great 
 friend of mine, and, without the slightest 
 disparagement to you, I own I was very 
 sorry to lose him as a neighbour. How- 
 ever, we must all bow to the inevitable ; 
 and I can only hope I shall be on as good
 
 128 Long Odds. 
 
 terms with his successors as I was with 
 himself.' 
 
 Oh ! Lord Ranksborow, Lord Ranks- 
 borow ! Damocles once yours, and it's 
 little you will trouble your head about 
 the newcomers at Temple Rising. 
 
 At this moment the two Miss Bramtons 
 entered, and the Earl was most decidedly 
 astonished. 
 
 ' Two deuced pretty, ladylike girls,' 
 he muttered to himself. ' Who the deuce 
 would ever have thought that a couple 
 of vulgarians like these could have reared 
 two such thoroughbred-looking chicks as 
 those ! ' 
 
 He advanced and shook hands with 
 the young ladies most cordially, welcomed 
 them heartily to the county, and congra- 
 tulated them upon being the possessors 
 of the prettiest place in it. 
 
 ' You're laughing at us, Lord Ranks- 
 borow,' said Miss Bramton, smiling. ' I 
 fancy we dwindle into insignificance by 
 the side of Knightshayes.' 
 
 ' That, I trust, you will soon have an
 
 Lord Ranksborow calls. 129 
 
 opportunity of judging for yourself. As 
 I was telling Mr Bramton just now, my 
 place may be bigger, but yours has it 
 altogether in point of beauty.' 
 
 All through luncheon the Earl won 
 golden opinions on all sides. He talked, 
 perhaps, chiefly to Miss Matilda, but he 
 was far too experienced a man of the 
 world not to, as far as possible, make 
 the conversation general. Mrs Bramton, 
 however, could be persuaded to take but 
 little part in it. She was somewhat 
 awestruck by her guest, and still more 
 was she afraid of committing herself and 
 being pounced upon by her eldest daugh- 
 ter. Miss Matilda snubbed her mother 
 rather sharply at times for the solecisms 
 she was wont to commit. The meal 
 over, the Earl wished the ladies good- 
 bye, and said airily, — 
 
 ' ril just have a weed in your sanctum, 
 Bramton, before I start.' 
 
 * Certainly, my lord, certainly,' was the 
 reply, and that gentleman led the way 
 to his own room at once. 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 130 Long Odds. 
 
 Once seated there, and his cigar com 
 fortably alight, Lord Ranksborow pro- 
 ceeded at once to business. 
 
 ' Your brother was an old friend of 
 mine,' he said ; ' and I hear he has left 
 you all his horses ? ' 
 
 'Well, in a way, so to speak,' replied 
 John Bramton. 
 
 * You're not much of a racing man, I 
 think,' continued the Earl, ' or else I must 
 have heard of you before. If it's a fair 
 question, what do you think of doing 
 with them ? Will they be for sale ? ' 
 
 ' Damocles, Damocles,' muttered Mr 
 Bramton to himself; 'dash my wig, if 
 he ain't after Damocles ! Lucy has got 
 some gumption in her ; that horse is 
 worth a lot of money. I know he's worth 
 twelve hundred pounds, because I refused 
 that sum for him yesterday.' 
 
 ' I'm sure I don't know, my lord. I 
 don't know much about such things my- 
 self. I don't suppose poor Dick's nags 
 are of much account.' 
 
 ' The old fox,' thought the Earl, ' is
 
 Lord Ranksborow calls. 131 
 
 not quite such an innocent as Skinner 
 pronounced him. Yesterday told him that 
 one of them, at all events, was worth 
 money.' 
 
 ' Ah, well, if they are to come to the 
 hammer, I should like to know. There's 
 one or two of them I should like to have. 
 Indeed, if you think of selling them by 
 private contract, shall be very glad to 
 have the refusal of them.' 
 
 ' Well, my lord, I haven't at all made 
 up my mind as yet.' 
 
 ' You've a young one called Damocles,' 
 continued the peer, as he flipped the ash 
 off his cigar. * Now, I can give you a 
 good round sum for him, if you like to 
 part with him. Now, I'm not going to 
 beat about the bush, or have any shilly- 
 shally about it — that's all very well 
 amongst horse-copers, but it's not the 
 thing between gentlemen. Now, once 
 for all, Bramton, I've taken a fancy to 
 Damocles. Will fifteen hundred pounds 
 buy him ? If not, there's no more to 
 be said.'
 
 132 Long Odds. 
 
 ' Fifteen hundred ? That's a deal of 
 money, to say nothing of the opportunity 
 of obHging your lordship. Excuse me 
 for one moment, I'll just go and consult 
 — that is to say, I'll just go and look 
 at some papers. I should just like to 
 mention it. Poor Dick's last will and 
 testament, you know.' 
 
 * Now, what in Heaven's name does 
 he mean by all that farrago ? He surely 
 can't mean to consult Mrs Bramton about 
 selling a horse. I wonder if he'll bite ? 
 By Jove ! what a coup if he does.' 
 
 A few minutes and Mr Bramton re- 
 enters the room. 
 
 ' I'm very sorry, my lord, awfully sorry,' 
 he exclaimed, ' but I can't give you any 
 decided answer to-day ! I won't say no, 
 but I can't say yes.' 
 
 * All right,' said the Earl, ' no harm 
 done. Send me a line over to Knio^ht- 
 shayes when you've made up your mind. 
 Good-bye ; very glad to have made your 
 acquaintance,' and with these words the 
 Earl took his departure.
 
 Lord Ranksborow calls, 133 
 
 * There now,' said Mr Bramton, * Lucy 
 has done it. Fifteen hundred for a horse 
 — the friendship of an earl — a first-class 
 introduction to all the county, and dam'me 
 if the girl hasn't said no to it'
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 JOHN BRAMTON's eyes ARE OPENED. 
 
 No man could be more profoundly ignor- 
 ant of racing matters than Mr Bramton. 
 He would as soon have thought of 
 reading Horace in the original as the 
 sporting intelligence in the newspapers, 
 and would have understood as much about 
 the one as the other ; but John Bramton's 
 trading instincts were much too quick not 
 to see that Damocles was a very valuable 
 colt. What the horse might be worth he 
 had no conception, but he had not been 
 buying and selling all his life not to feel 
 perfectly sure that neither Mr Skinner 
 nor Lord Ranksborow had bid him full 
 value. About the declinincr of Mr
 
 yohn Bra77ito7is Eyes are opened. 135 
 
 Skinner's offer, he had no doubt but that 
 Lucy had persuaded him to do rightly ; 
 but the Earl's was quite another matter. 
 He felt pretty sure that the fifteen 
 hundred was considerably less than the 
 colt ought to fetch ; but then there was 
 the contingency. Fifteen hundred pounds 
 and the friendship of the Ranksborow 
 family ! Surely it was worth while to let 
 the Earl have a bargain, and by that 
 means arrive at intimacy with him and 
 his. Mr Bramton ought to have known 
 better than to believe that laying a man 
 under an obligation can be relied on to 
 entail his gratitude and friendship. He 
 had been angry and dumbfoundered at 
 Lucy's refusal to at once conclude the sale 
 of Damocles, but there was no time to 
 argue the matter out then, as the Earl was 
 awaitinor his decision. There was nothinor 
 for it but to temporise, so having briefly 
 informed his daughter that she was a 
 headstrong little fool, he rushed back to 
 his own room, and gave Lord Ranks- 
 borow the undecided answer we know of.
 
 136 Long Odds. 
 
 Lucy was destined to have a somewhat 
 uncomfortable time of it for the next 
 two days. Her whole family were up in 
 arms against her. In the eyes of her 
 mother and sister, Lord Ranksborow's 
 offer had been princely ; and then it was 
 so unkind, so ill-tempered of her, to 
 throw obstacles in the way of their enter- 
 ing county society. Such an opening 
 as this might never occur again ; and, 
 when the Earl was so anxious to be 
 friendly, it was so ungracious not to part 
 with a horse she had never seen and 
 could not possibly want. 
 
 ' This Damocles — such a name to eive 
 a horse ! ' cries Miss Matilda — ' is of no 
 use except for racing purposes ; and 
 though ladies go racing, yet nobody ever 
 heard of their owning racehorses ! ' 
 
 An observation which once more en- 
 dorses the correctness of Mr Billow's 
 famous line, ' That they didn't know 
 everything down in Judee.' 
 
 But Lucy was obstinate. She said 
 first of all it was by no means clear that
 
 John Bramton s Eyes are opened. 137 
 
 they had a right to dispose of these horses 
 until the engagements they were entered 
 for were over ; but, supposing that she 
 had the leral rio^ht, her uncle had left 
 her everything, had been very kind to 
 her all his lifetime, and she thought she 
 owed it to his memory to carry out his last 
 wishes as far as she could. She reminded 
 them all that his dying message to her 
 had been to ' take care of Damocles ; ' 
 then again she argued, — 
 
 * Remember what we've heard about 
 the Earl of Ranksborow since we've been 
 here. We know very well that, though 
 he is a nobleman with a large estate, he 
 is a notoriously hard-up man. Nobody 
 suggests for one moment that he is 
 narrow or illiberal in his dealings ; it is 
 simply that he has a great deal to keep 
 up, and barely the money to do it with. 
 Is it likely, father, that he could afford 
 to make you a fair bid for a horse ? ' 
 
 ' As a business man, Lucy, I tell you 
 fairly I think you're probably right ; but 
 this horse is nothing to you, and just
 
 13^ Long Odds. 
 
 think what it means to us all. Why, it'll 
 lead to you and Matilda making the 
 acquaintance of all the surrounding no- 
 bility and gentry.' 
 
 But Lucy stuck to her guns, and posi- 
 tively refused to give her consent to the 
 acceptance of Lord Ranksborow's offer, 
 upon which her father angrily reminded 
 her that she was a minor, and that, as 
 her trustee, he should act as he thought 
 best for her, and take the earliest oppor- 
 tunity of disposing of such a very tick- 
 lish property as a stud of racehorses. 
 
 How far Mr Bramton would have pro- 
 ceeded to carry out his threat is proble- 
 matical, but the second day brought help 
 to Lucy from a very unexpected quarter. 
 Mr Bramton was proudly contemplating 
 his domain from the terrace outside the 
 drawing-room window, when a footman 
 came to him and said, — 
 
 ' A gentleman to see you, sir, on busi- 
 ness. Hasn't got a card, sir, but gives 
 the name of Stubber.' 
 
 * Stubber, Stubber,' said Mr Bramton
 
 John Bramtons Eyes are opened. 139 
 
 meditatively ; ' never heard the name in 
 my Hfe. What have you done with him, 
 William?' 
 
 ' Shown him into your private room, 
 sin' 
 
 ' Quite right,' said Mr Bramton. ' Now 
 I wonder what this fellow can want ? ' 
 and so saying, he trotted off to discover. 
 
 Stubber was a trainer of the old school. 
 A slight, wiry, keen-eyed man of fifty 
 or thereabouts, attired in a broad-skirted, 
 pepper-and-salt coat, drab breeches and 
 gaiters. He rose from his chair as Mr 
 Bramton entered the room, and said, — 
 
 * Morning, sir ; I'd have been down 
 to pay my respects before, only I didn't 
 know who the horses belonged to. I'm 
 told Mr Richard has left the whole string 
 to you 1 ' 
 
 ' Another of them, by gum ! He's 
 come about Damocles,' muttered John 
 Bramton to himself. ' I wonder whether 
 he wants to buy him ? Not likely I'm 
 going to part with that valuable animal 
 to a fellow like him when there's an earl
 
 140 Long Odds. 
 
 wanting to buy him. Well, yes,' he 
 replied at length, ' that's about the size 
 
 of it; 
 
 * Well, sir, I always gave your poor 
 brother every satisfaction, and, though I 
 ses it myself, I know my business, and 
 can pitch 'em out as fit as any man in 
 Enorland.' 
 
 * Quite so, my good man,' replied John 
 Bramton, * though what you propose to 
 pitch out, and what your business may 
 be, I'm blessed if I've the slightest idea.' 
 
 'Why, sir, I'm poor Mr Richard's 
 trainer. I've come down to talk to you 
 about them bosses ; and I do hope you'll 
 leave ^em with me.' 
 
 'Ah!' rejoined Mr Bramton, with a 
 ^ong-drawn breath of a man who suddenly 
 makes a startling discovery, ' you're the 
 keeper of Damocles ? I mean, that you've 
 charge of that valuable animal. Keeper, 
 no ; that's what they say of the people 
 in charge of the wild beasts in the Zoolo- 
 gical Gardens. You're the — what was it 
 you called yourself ? '
 
 John Bramto7is Eyes ar^e opened. 141 
 
 * Trainer, sir. I've trained for Mr 
 Richard for the last eight years ; and as 
 for Damocles, he's a cHnker, he is. I 
 don't think I ever had such a coh in my 
 charge before.' 
 
 * Ah ! ' said Mr Bramton patronislngly, 
 and speaking as if he had been in the 
 habit of winning the Derby every four 
 or five years for some time past, ' I'm 
 told he's a nice 'orse. Why, I was bid 
 fifteen hundred pounds for him the begin- 
 ning of the week.' 
 
 * Fifteen hundred pounds ! ' ejaculated 
 the trainer, In tones of the most profound 
 contempt. 
 
 ' Just so, just so,' continued Mr Bram- 
 ton. ' I thought it wasn't enough. Now, 
 Mr Stubber, what do you consider the 
 value of a " clinker ? " ' 
 
 ' Damocles Is well worth five thousand 
 pounds this very minute, and will be well 
 worth ten before a fortnlo^ht Is over our 
 heads.' 
 
 John Bramton was thunderstruck. He 
 had been quite prepared to urge his
 
 142 Long Odds. 
 
 daughter to sacrifice a little money with 
 a view to getting- the entrance into the 
 county society they wished. He would 
 have said, and with some reason, to Lucy, 
 'You're a rich young woman, and it is 
 well worth your while to sacrifice two 
 or three hundred pounds in order to gain 
 a good social position/ But he had made 
 his own money much too hardly to think 
 of throwing away thousands for any such 
 shadowy idea as that. No man more 
 likely to have said, ' The money will stick 
 to you, my girl, and society perhaps 
 won't.' 
 
 'Why do you say, Mr Stubber,' he said, 
 at length, ' that this horse will be worth 
 so much more in a fortnight ? ' 
 
 'Well, sir,' replied the trainer, 'there 
 is no certainty in racing, but I'm as con- 
 fident as a man can be about anything 
 connected with it, that Damocles will win 
 the New Stakes at Ascot the week after 
 next, and, I think, easily too. If he does, 
 I can only say, in my opinion, considering 
 how heavily he is engaged, he'll be worth
 
 Joh7i Bramtoiis Eyes are opened. 143 
 
 double the money he is now. Whatever 
 else you may sell, sir, I do hope you won't 
 sell him, and I further venture to hope 
 you'll leave him in my charge. Be guided 
 by me, sir ; don't part with him, at all 
 events till after Ascot ; and if you're not 
 satisfied with the way he runs, then say 
 Sam Stubber is an old fool, and isn't fit to 
 look after a horse.' 
 
 ' Well, Mr Stubber,' said Bramton, * I 
 promise you, at all events, the horses 
 shall be left with you till after Ascot, 
 and by that time I shall probably have 
 made up my mind what to do about 
 them.' 
 
 ' Thank'ee, sir. Maybe you'll come 
 down and look at the horses ? I should 
 like you to see Damocles have his wind 
 up before Ascot.' 
 
 ' Thank you,' said Mr Bramton. ' I 
 don't know much about such things my- 
 self Don't quite understand how you 
 wind a horse up either, but I suppose, 
 like clocks, it's a mistake to overdo it' 
 
 The trainer smiled as he replied, —
 
 144 Long Odds. 
 
 ' Too bad of you, Mr Bramton, to 
 gammon me in this way, and pretend 
 you know nothing- about racing. That's 
 just where it is, many a good stake is 
 thrown away by over-winding.' 
 
 ' It strikes me I'm getting on in this 
 new line of business,' thouorht Mr Bramton. 
 * No,' he said, ' Stubber, I don't understand 
 it, and I shall leave you to manage matters 
 for yourself, at all events till after Ascot.' 
 
 'Very well, sir,' replied the trainer. * If 
 you do change your mind, there's my 
 address, and I can give you a comfortable 
 bedroom, and a decent dinner ; but now 
 I will say good-bye. I suppose you would 
 like the result of the New Stakes tele- 
 graphed ? ' 
 
 *Yes, I think so, Stubber. I'm not 
 much of a race-goer myself. Good-bye.' 
 
 Mr Bramton sat for some time lost in 
 thought after the trainer had departed. 
 It was quite obvious to him that his 
 noble friend the Earl of Ranksborow 
 had endeavoured to drive an uncommonly 
 good bargain for himself, if from no
 
 John Bramtons Eyes are opened. 145 
 
 other point of view than that of buying 
 a thing to-day to sell for two or three 
 times the sum to-morrow. Then it sud- 
 denly flashed across him that Mr Skinner 
 was staying at Knightshayes. Of course 
 they were in collusion. What a fool 
 he had been ; they had striven to buy 
 Damocles for about a fourth of his value. 
 John Bramton might know nothing about 
 racing, but his business instincts were 
 very wide avv^ake to buying cheap and 
 selling dear, and that the Earl and his 
 confederate saw their way into that he 
 made no doubt. 
 
 'Well,' he muttered to himself, 'folks 
 who have tried to best John Bramton 
 have generally got the worst of it. His 
 lordship has tried to *'do" me, and, in 
 my way, I'll just see if I can't "do" his 
 lordship. He wants something out of 
 me ; I want something out of him. A 
 regular game at cribbage between us ; 
 but his lordship will find that I can lay 
 out for my crib quite as cleverly as he 
 can,' and Mr Bramton quite chuckled at 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 146 Long Odds. 
 
 the game he was about to play with 
 Lord Ranksborow.' 
 
 The first thing he did was to indite a 
 diplomatic letter to the Earl, which, it 
 was rather fortunate for him, did not fall 
 under the eyes of his wife or daughters. 
 He was dreadfully given, on these occa- 
 sions, to drop into the idioms of his own 
 business, and though somewhat suspicious 
 of what a shrewd correspondent he was 
 dealing with, the peer could not but 
 laugh at some of the expressions in the 
 letter. 
 
 'I'm sorry I cannot yet give your lord- 
 ship a definite answer about your offer 
 for Damocles, but the fact I have got to 
 consider is whether the goods, that is 
 horses, will not sell better wholesale than 
 by dropping into the retail business. In 
 the event of the latter, your lordship may 
 depend upon having the very first offer 
 of the colt you are anxious to secure.' 
 
 Lord Ranksborow laughed when he 
 got this letter, but he was not in the 
 least deceived by it. He was quite as
 
 John Bramtons Eyes are opened. 147 
 
 astute a man In his own way as the 
 master of Temple Rising. 
 
 ' Skinner, my friend,' he muttered, ' you 
 made a great mistake when you thought 
 this man was a fooL He's as sharp as a 
 needle ; he has already found out that 
 these horses are valuable, how valuable 
 he don't know, but he is not going to 
 sell them until he does. That he is very 
 anxious to make my acquaintance, and 
 be asked, with his wife and daughters, to 
 Knightshayes is equally clear. Well, we 
 are not in the habit of selling our hospi- 
 tality, and that's a very ugly name to 
 give the transaction, but for all that, Mr 
 Bramton, my taking you up depends 
 entirely about what arrangement you 
 make about Damocles. I can't pay more 
 for the colt than I have already bid, 
 that's '*pos." I wonder if it will be pos- 
 sible to come to some other arrangement 
 about it. Ha ! that would do, if he 
 would simply keep him, and let me have 
 the management of him. He's not a 
 man to stand on much delicacy with.
 
 148 Lojig Odds. 
 
 I've no doubt, to use his own vernacular, 
 he has done a good deal of "You push 
 my shirtings, and I'll cry up your 
 calicoes." I must make him understand 
 that my taking him up must be a give- 
 and-take arrangement. The only thing 
 is, an understandinof must be come to 
 as quickly as possible, or else, tempted 
 by what he considers a rattling good 
 offer, he'll be selling the colt. Hang it! 
 Skinner was right. I shall have to play 
 my trump card after all, and get the 
 Countess to call. I thought I could have 
 managed it alone, but the little dry-goods 
 man is too cunning for me. He means 
 that he and his are to have their legs 
 under my mahogany, before he does 
 what I wish. Yes, that must be my 
 next move. I must tell the Countess 
 to call.'
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE Soudan's on the boil. 
 
 It is the end of the Ascot week, and a 
 depression seems to have fallen over 
 that lively community yclept the Helio- 
 trope. They don't say much, they are 
 mostly too good form not to take their 
 punishment mutely, but there are wan 
 and weary faces amongst them, that 
 show traces of an unsuccessful week's 
 battling with the bookmakers. The 
 morrow is a day of rest, — little rest 
 indeed to these unfortunates who know 
 that their liabilities have to be adjusted 
 on the Monday. 
 
 Sitting in one corner of the smoking- 
 room, holding anxious confabulation on
 
 1 50 Long Odds. 
 
 that constantly-recurring- problem, ways 
 and means, were Lord Dartree and his 
 equally impecunious friend and mentor, 
 Jim Anson. Suddenly their attention was 
 attracted by a tall, dreamy-looking man, 
 who lounged into the Temple of Nicotine 
 with a bored, languid air, and looked 
 wearily around for somebody on whom to 
 inflict his weariness. 
 
 ' Alec Flood ! by all that's unfathom- 
 able ! ' exclaimed Anson. ' Come here. 
 Alec, and tell us all about your adven- 
 tures ; how you escaped being bowstrung 
 by a pasha, knouted by a Boyard, eaten 
 by a tiger, or knifed by an Italian.' 
 
 ' How are you two fellows ? ' replied 
 Flood, as he shook hands with the twain. 
 * That last shot of yours, Jim, was a shave 
 nearer than your guesses generally are, 
 for I happened to be in Cairo at the 
 time of that p-amblinor-house row in which 
 Dick Bramton was killed.' 
 
 ' The deuce you were ! ' exclaimed 
 Anson. 
 
 * Yes ; your brother Jack and myself,
 
 The Soudan s on the Boil. 151 
 
 Dart, chanced to be present when the row 
 took place. What took us to that con- 
 founded den, I don't know.' 
 
 ' " Satan finds some mischief still for 
 idle hands to do," ' quoted Dartree de- 
 murely. 
 
 ' Stuff and nonsense, Dart ! ' exclaimed 
 Jim Anson. ' Satan never bothers him- 
 self about you and Jack. He knows he 
 can rely upon your finding that for your- 
 selves.' 
 
 ' You fellows knew Bramton, I dare- 
 say ? I didn't, but Jack did, as soon as 
 he made out who he was.' 
 
 ' Rather,' said Dartree ; ' considering he 
 owned Damocles, the first favourite for 
 the Derby, and was always a prominent 
 figure at Newmarket, etc., we all knew 
 him more or less.' 
 
 ' Was It a big fight ? ' inquired Anson. 
 
 * No ; one of those short, sharp scuffles 
 characteristic of a gaming-house row. 
 This poor fellow was knifed before we 
 could get to him. Neither of us saw who 
 struck the blow.'
 
 T52 Long Odds, 
 
 * And how's Jack ? ' inquired Dartree. 
 
 * Oh ! flourishing. Uncommon sick of 
 Cairo, which he pronounces a hole. Says 
 the Sphinx and the Pyramids are all very 
 well, once in a way, but they pall on re- 
 petition. However, he and some of the 
 other fellows out there think they're going 
 to fight something or somebody some- 
 where, and are looking forward to it. 
 Awfully bored they must be, you know, 
 when they are looking forward to a cam- 
 paign as diversion. You fellows have 
 been at Ascot, I suppose ? ' 
 
 ' Yes,' replied Jim Anson ; ' and, by 
 Jove ! don't we wish we hadn't. I never 
 had such a week. Except when Dam- 
 ocles romped in for the New Stakes, I'm 
 blessed if I turned a single trick ; and he 
 was only a six to four chance, so there 
 wasn't much money to be made out of 
 that.' 
 
 ' There, that'll do, Jim ; don't bore 
 Flood by enumerating all the losers we 
 backed at Ascot. It's sickenine to look 
 back upon. So Jack is pretty fit, is
 
 . The Soudan s on the Boil, 153 
 
 he ? When does he talk of coming 
 home ? ' 
 
 ' He doesn't see his way to it at all,' 
 rejoined Flood. ^ There's trouble brew- 
 ing up there in the Soudan.' 
 
 ' Yes ; but that's nothing to us,' replied 
 Lord Dartree. ' Government have de- 
 clared that they are not going to interfere 
 in the Soudan.' 
 
 ' Yes, I know,' rejoined Flood. ' But 
 when you rule an empire upon which the 
 sun never sets, it's all very well to say you 
 won't interfere with this, and you won't in- 
 terfere with that ; you can't help yourself. 
 Hicks' expedition to relieve El-Obeid, re- 
 member, terminated in the annihilation of 
 his whole force. Baker's attempt to re- 
 lieve Sinkat and Tokar met a precisely 
 similar fate. Now the result of these two 
 disasters is this— an enormous quantity of 
 rifles and several Krupp guns and 
 ammunition have fallen into the hands of 
 the Arabs. Naturally a most courageous 
 race, they have now got their tails up, 
 and there's no holding them. They talk
 
 154 Long Odds. 
 
 about sweeping the infidels from the 
 face of the earth, and carrying fire 
 and sword to Cairo and the gates of 
 Stamboul. We may say that we won't 
 interfere in the Soudan, but it's very pro- 
 bable that the Soudanese w^ill interfere 
 with us.' 
 
 * By Jove!' said Anson, 'that's a view 
 of the case that has never struck our 
 politicians.' 
 
 * No ; we are always preaching non-. 
 intervention, and then wind up by annex- 
 ing a province two or three sizes bigger 
 than the United Kingdom. We don't 
 want it ; but circumstances compel us to 
 take it. We don't want the Soudan, nor 
 does any one else, I should think, but our 
 philanthropic tendencies have led us to 
 interfere with their favourite pastime of 
 slave hunting, while the Egyptian officials, 
 on the other hand, in their anxiety to 
 enrich themselves, have ground the very 
 souls out of the wretched villagers. No ; 
 the Soudan is on the boil, and, to con- 
 tinue the metaphor, sooner or later, it
 
 The Sotidaiis 07t the Boil. 155 
 
 will devolve upon us to take the kettle 
 off; 
 
 ' Well, you've been out there,' said Lord 
 Dartree, ' have heard what people say, 
 and therefore ought to know rather more 
 about it than we do ; but nobody at home 
 here thinks we are going to interfere in 
 that embroglio.' 
 
 ' I suppose not,' rejoined Flood ; ' but 
 when the Arabs have got within a couple 
 of hundred miles or so of Cairo, Her 
 Majesty's Government will awake to the 
 situation, and exclaim, " Halloa ! this sort 
 of thing won't do, you know."* 
 
 ' Well, you can't be said to take a cheer- 
 ful view of things,' said Anson. 
 
 ' Not at all. I'm only taking a common- 
 sense one. Look at the blunder Govern- 
 ment has made about the evacuation of 
 the Soudan, loudly proclaiming their in- 
 tention. When one wants to run away, 
 one does it as quietly as possible. You 
 don't loudly announce that you're going 
 to do it.' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Dartree, ' to retreat silently
 
 156 LoJtg Odds. 
 
 is, I believe, an axiom in military tac- 
 tics.' 
 
 ' Ah ! and there is another axiom in the 
 history of both schoolboys and nations ; 
 the boy who won't fight is always kicked. 
 Other countries are always under the im- 
 pression John Bull won't fight, but too 
 late they discover he won't be kicked. 
 Origin this of half our wars.' 
 
 * Pity you're not in the House, Flood,' 
 remarked Anson ; * you would make your- 
 self so jolly unpopular, always carping at 
 the Government arrangements.' 
 
 ' Never mind,' replied the accused, 
 laughing. ' I'm never likely to be there, 
 and to play the critic is an easy role. 
 However, we've talked enough of the 
 East, I think. Tell me a little what you 
 fellows have been doing in the West.' 
 
 ' Nothing,' rejoined Lord Dartree, ' that 
 is, speaking personally, and doing it, too, 
 with our usual ability ; haven't we, Jim } ' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Anson ; ' but Dart has 
 done something more, than that. He 
 has evinced great diplomatic talent. His
 
 The Sottdaiis on the Boil. 157 
 
 father, as you know, is always at him 
 to go in for Parliament. Well, it oc- 
 curred to Dart this winter that he would 
 rather break his neck than his voice, and 
 that the society on a racecourse was more 
 select than the society at St Stephen's, 
 so he took to steeplechasing, and, I assure 
 you, made a very creditable ddbut between 
 flags, carrying off two local steeplechases.' 
 ' Yes,' chimed in Lord Dartree, * and 
 the best of the joke is this, the governor 
 is so delighted at my taking up one of 
 the favourite hobbies of his youth, that 
 he has ceased to bore me any more 
 about Parliament.' 
 
 * Of course he has,' remarked Flood ; 
 ' he sees you've taken up with a higher 
 vocation.' 
 
 ' By the way,' said Anson, * you had no 
 idea, when you saw Dick Bramton killed 
 at Cairo, what a sensation his death was 
 going to make in the turf world.' 
 
 ' How is that .^ ' inquired Flood. 
 
 * Well, for a long time we couldn't 
 make out what was to become of his
 
 158 Long Odds, 
 
 horses. At last it oozed out he had left 
 them all to his brother — a chap who don't 
 know a horse from a cow. The obvious 
 inference was that he would sell them, 
 but he somehow discovered that race- 
 horses are valuable property, and he is 
 so afraid of being '' done " that he can't 
 make up his mind what to do. He made 
 his money in trade of some sort, and he 
 is terribly afraid of not getting full value 
 for the stud.' 
 
 ' Racing is not much in my way,' 
 rejoined Flood, ' but one of Bramton's 
 horses should be at all events worth 
 money. It isn't running in his name, 
 but that's nothing. I happened to see 
 in the paper the other morning that 
 Damocles won the New Stakes at Ascot. 
 It's a very odd thing, but Dick Bramton's 
 dying words were a message to his niece 
 to ** take care of Damocles." ' 
 
 ' The ruling passion,' muttered Dartree. 
 * My father, you know, was rather chummy 
 with Dick Bramton, and I know from him 
 that the dead man thought a lot of that
 
 The Soudan s on the Boil. 159 
 
 colt. Curious, moreover, the present man 
 has just bought a place in our part of the 
 country.' 
 
 'Ah! I fancy I heard Jack say some- 
 thing about it. Now I'm off for a rubber,' 
 and, with a nod to his companions, Flood 
 strolled off to the cardroom. 
 
 By this time there was a growing feel- 
 ing in England that, whatever the Govern- 
 ment might assert, their interference in the 
 Soudan was not only imperative, but was 
 likely to cost considerable expenditure of 
 life and money. The disasters of Hicks 
 and Baker had been somewhat belittled 
 on account of the troops they were lead- 
 ing. These able and capable leaders, it 
 was urged, could do nothing with the 
 * stuff they commanded.' We had still 
 hardly grasped the fact that we had to 
 confront an enemy not only of superb 
 fighting capacity, but who, in his own 
 way, showed great powers of strategy. 
 Like most semi-civilised foes, his great 
 idea was an ambuscade, and in setting
 
 i6o Long Odds. 
 
 and luring his opponent into his trap he 
 showed marvellous astuteness. It was all 
 very well to say that well -tried chiefs 
 like Hicks and Baker, more especially 
 the latter, whose superb handling of the 
 Turkish rearguard In the retreat from the 
 Balkans Is worthy to rank with Ney's 
 similar heroic covering of the Grand 
 Armee's retirement from Moscow, could 
 do nothing with battalions whose nervous 
 affections of the legs impelled them to 
 take an opposite course to that which 
 their commanders would fain lead them. 
 But the fierceness of the foe we were 
 soon destined to comprehend. 
 
 The annihilation of Baker's expedition, 
 and the literally painful cowardice dis- 
 played by the Egyptian troops upon that 
 occasion, so emboldened Osman Digma 
 and his Arabs that they actually now 
 threatened Suakim ; and the British Gov- 
 ernment could no loncrer dlso^ulse from 
 themselves that, If the way to India by 
 the Suez Canal and Red Sea was to be 
 saved, it was high time that, like it or
 
 The Sotcdans on the Boil. 161 
 
 not, they should Intervene. Sir Gerald 
 Graham, at the head of some six thou- 
 sand British troops, was selected to chas- 
 tise Osman Digma and his following. 
 This was done, and done effectually ; but 
 the desperate resistance, and the reckless 
 charges of the Arabs, fully explained the 
 crushing defeats of inferior troops. How 
 the Arabs would fight we learnt at El- 
 Teb and Tamai. At the former, indeed, 
 a boy of twelve dauntlessly, knife in hand, 
 attacked two of our soldiers, paying the 
 penalty with his life ; while at the latter, 
 a square composed of some of our best 
 troops was momentarily broken, and the 
 formation not recovered till many of the 
 enemy had got inside, where they * fight- 
 ing fell.' But it speedily became evident 
 that, able as was his lieutenant, Osman 
 Digma the slave-dealer, with whose occu- 
 pation we had interfered, the focus of the 
 rebellion was with the Mahdi himself, and 
 o:ravitatinof towards Khartoum. About 
 the same time that Sir Gerald Graham 
 was chastising the tribes round Suakim, 
 VOL. I. L
 
 1 62 Long Odds. 
 
 Gordon made a sortie from the former 
 place, the result of which was simply to 
 show that the Egyptian troops could not 
 be brought to face the Arabs ; two thou- 
 sand of them, armed with Remingtons, 
 being upon this occasion scattered and 
 put to flight by some sixty wild horse- 
 men of the desert, which made it pretty 
 clear to Gordon, to whom had been con- 
 fided the task of withdrawing the Egyp- 
 tian garrisons from the Soudan, that 
 though it might have been possible once, 
 it was now too late, and without the aid 
 of the British, those Egyptian troops 
 would never return to their homes in 
 Egypt proper. Still the Government is 
 very determined not to intervene in the 
 Soudan, forgetting that it has already 
 done so, and that, having undertaken to 
 prevent anarchy in Egypt, it was diffi- 
 cult to lay down hard and fast rules, — 
 that you could no more say, ' I will be 
 responsible for order in this part of 
 Egypt, but not in that,' than a doctor 
 could say, ' I will have no fever in this
 
 The Soudan s on the Boil. 163 
 
 part of my patient's body, but will take 
 no heed to the rest.' 
 
 However, with the suppression of 
 Osman Digma, operations in the Soudan 
 came to a conchision for the present, the 
 EngHsh Government fondly hoping that 
 they were done with that question. True, 
 it was urged that after the battle of Tamai 
 there was nothing to stop Stewart's 
 cavalry riding into Berber, but it was 
 argued that nothing could come of such 
 an advance ; that the road from Suakim to 
 Berber would be no safer after the cavalry 
 had passed than it was at present, and, in- 
 deed, except the moral effect, it is hard 
 to see what result could have come of it ; 
 but then, in dealing with Eastern nations, 
 moral effect is everything, and if ever 
 there were people in this world who 
 ought to be aware of that, it is ourselves. 
 Aeain and ai^fain have we owed our exist- 
 ence in India to our military prestige ; 
 and had the matter been left in the hands 
 of the military chiefs, it is probable that 
 Berber would have been occupied ; and
 
 164 Long Odds, 
 
 who shall say what moral support would 
 have been afforded Gordon at Khartoum 
 by the intelligence that the British horse 
 were in Berber ? But no, the British 
 Government were excessively anxious to 
 wash their hands of this question of the 
 Soudan, but found that, once having 
 tarred its fingers, it was a matter of no 
 little difficulty to get rid of it. As it is, 
 the affair does not redound much to our 
 credit, as the problem has been elucidated 
 by the massacre of all the Egyptian gar- 
 risons, and the shameful sacrifice of the 
 man we sent out to withdraw them.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 / 
 
 THE BRAMTONS MAKE THEIR DEBUT. 
 
 Not very far from Temple Rising was 
 Roseneath, the residence of Mr and Mrs 
 Berriman. Mr Berriman was a man who 
 somewhat startled the inhabitants of that 
 neighbourhood by his ultra-democratic 
 opinions. It was a strongly Conservative 
 district, and when he first came amongst 
 them there had been some feeling against 
 the master of Roseneath on account of 
 his very Liberal views ; but when it was 
 discovered that he was a thorouo^h orood 
 sportsman, a staunch preserver of both 
 pheasants and foxes, and that his Radi- 
 cal opinions were chiefly theoretical, he 
 speedily became a popular man in the
 
 1 66 Long Odds. 
 
 county. As for Mrs Berriman, she was 
 a jolly, good-tempered woman, who de- 
 lighted in society, and was very catholic 
 regarding it. There was nothing ex- 
 clusive about Mrs Berriman ; she knew 
 everybody, and dispensed her hospitalities 
 with a free hand. Her manner was just 
 as frank and off-hand to the Earl of 
 Ranksborow as it was to the village 
 apothecary. That Mrs Berriman should 
 call upon the newcomers at Temple 
 Risine, was as natural as that Mrs Ber- 
 riman should give a garden-party. Mrs 
 Berriman's parties were always popular. 
 True some of the more exclusive people 
 of the neighbourhood — the very finest 
 porcelain of the community — turned up 
 their noses at the inferior earthenware 
 they encountered on such occasions, but 
 having remarked that 'poor Mrs Berri- 
 man's parties were really getting so very 
 mixed, they didn't know what to say about 
 going,' they went. 
 
 The Bramtons looked forward to this 
 entertainment not a little. It was a
 
 The Bravitons make tJieir Debut. 167 
 
 stepping-stone to making the acquaintance 
 of the neighbourhood. John Bramton and 
 his wife were naturally both sociable and 
 hospitable people, and would be only 
 too happy to dispense cakes and ale to 
 their neighbours, if only those neighbours 
 would let them. 
 
 Now a thing had come to pass, the 
 last two or three weeks, at which Mr 
 Bramton hardly knew whether to be 
 pleased or annoyed. When this much- 
 talked-of colt Damocles cantered in for the 
 New Stakes at Ascot, there was of course 
 much talk about whom he belonged to. 
 He had run in the name of the trainer, 
 but it was pretty generally understood that 
 Stubber was not his real owner, and it 
 then transpired that the horse was the 
 property of Mr Bramton. This, as we 
 know, was not exactly the case, but it 
 seemed so natural that the dead man 
 should have left his property to his 
 brother, that nobody dreamt of question- 
 ing the statement. Mr Stubber himself 
 was quite under that impression, and saw
 
 1 68 Long Odds. 
 
 no object In making a secret of it ; equally 
 are Mr Skinner and the Earl of Ranks- 
 borow under that belief, so it is very 
 little wonder that Mr Bramton is regarded 
 as the owner of Damocles. 
 
 ^ Pwoperty of a wetired linen-dwaper, 
 I'm told,' ejaculated young Pontifex of 
 the — th Dragoon Guards, as he joined 
 the dras: to which he was affiliated for 
 luncheon. 
 
 He had not backed the winner, and 
 his own father had been a cheesemonger, 
 whereas Mr Bramton had, at all events, 
 been a wholesale dealer in such goods 
 as he traded in. 
 
 Two or three of the sporting farmers, 
 and some of the few of the gentlemen 
 around, when they met Mr Bramton, had 
 congratulated him upon the triumph of his 
 horse at Ascot, some of them adding in a 
 jocular way that they supposed next year 
 the bells would be ringing at Temple 
 Rising, an ox would be roasted whole, 
 and a hogshead of home-brewed broached, 
 in honour of the victory of Damocles at
 
 The Brmiitons make their Ddbut. 169 
 
 Epsom. Now Mr Bramton took all this 
 very awkwardly. Guided by the lights 
 of his whole life, he felt that to be the 
 possessor of a racehorse boded his de- 
 struction ; that men would stand aloof 
 from him ; and, though he didn't quite 
 understand how, yet that there was a 
 great expenditure of money connected with 
 the ownership of this sort of property. 
 That was his theory, but his shrewd 
 common-sense showed him the reverse 
 was the case. He could not but see that 
 his sporting neighbours looked upon it 
 as quite a feather in his cap to be the 
 owner of such a ^ flyer' as Damocles. 
 Mr Stubber, in a letter which he had re- 
 ceived from him, congratulated him upon 
 having won fifteen hundred pounds in 
 stakes, on his horse having distinctly 
 established himself as a first-class two- 
 year-old, and again asseverating that the 
 value he had placed upon him a fort- 
 night ago was not a penny too much, 
 and imploring him not to be tempted to 
 sell.
 
 170 Long Odds. 
 
 'If, sir,' continued Mr Stubber, 'you 
 will allow me to advise, I would suggest, 
 if you do not want to continue racing, 
 your putting up the stud for sale during 
 the July Week, with the exception of 
 Damocles and old Whitechapel, whom I 
 want to lead him in his work.' (' Now I 
 wonder what he means by that ? ' muttered 
 Mr Bramton to himself, as he perused 
 the letter.) 'The young one is as sound 
 as a bell, and, I assure you, bids fair to 
 be a perfect gold mine to you.' 
 
 Now Mr Bramton could quite under- 
 stand all this. It was very pleasant to 
 learn that his property was improving in 
 value — or rather his daughter's — to learn 
 that they had won a stake worth fifteen 
 hundred pounds ; and then he thought it 
 was very odd that it hadn't been sent to 
 him, and remarked to himself that if that 
 was the way Royalty did business, he 
 could only remark that it was somewhat 
 lax ; then he wondered whether the Queen 
 or the Chancellor of the Exchequer was 
 the proper person to write to on the sub-
 
 The Bramtons make thew Ddbttt. 1 7 r 
 
 ject, and finally concluded that he had 
 better take council with the Earl of 
 Ranksborow. 
 
 Between this nobleman and Mr Bram- 
 ton there had been much finessinof. The 
 Countess had called, and, loyal to her hus- 
 band's instructions, had skilfully dangled 
 the bait of a dinner at Knightshayes 
 before the eyes of the family ; but she had 
 not named the day. On the other hand, 
 Mr Bramton had been equally indefinite 
 on the subject of Damocles. He did not 
 altogether decline the Earl's offer, but then 
 he most distinctly did not accept it. The 
 nobleman did not like to stir much in 
 the matter. He had orot to the leno^th 
 of his tether, and knew he was offering 
 nothing like the value of the horse. He 
 was afraid that Bramton already suspected 
 as much, and to press the offer would 
 only confirm those suspicions. But time 
 went on. As Artemus Ward remarks, 
 ' It's a way time has.' Damocles won the 
 New Stakes, and then Lord Ranksborow 
 recognised that to purchase him was out
 
 172 Long Odds. 
 
 of his power. His sole hope now was to 
 get the control of the horse. That, he 
 thought, should not be very difficult. Mr 
 Bramton, knowing nothing about racing, 
 would probably feel flattered and grateful 
 to a man like himself for taking the 
 management of his ' crack ' off his hands. 
 Then, again, he knew the Temple Rising 
 people set a high value on the friendship 
 of Knightshayes, so that the Earl an- 
 nounced to his Countess that dinner must 
 become a reality, and that as soon as, 
 with regard to due notice being given, 
 could be managed. Having failed to buy 
 the colt himself, the next thing was to 
 persuade John Bramton on no account to 
 part with it. 
 
 ' We must do it, Louisa. I have too 
 much depending on Damocles winning 
 next year, to throw away any chance 
 conducive to it. It won't bore you very 
 much. As for the Miss Bramtons, they 
 are pleasant, ladylike girls enough, and 
 though the father and the mother are 
 atrociously vulgar, yet they're so naive
 
 The Bramtons make their Debut. 173 
 
 with it, that it becomes more amusing 
 than offensive.' 
 
 * Oh ! I shan't mind it,' laughed her 
 ladyship. ' The only one trouble about 
 it is their charming imwetd is somewhat 
 provocative of laughter, and the Miss 
 Bramtons, bear in mind, are jealously 
 sensitive about their parents' mistakes.' 
 
 ' You may quite rely upon me upon 
 that point,' rejoined the Earl, 'though 
 they try one rather high at times.' 
 
 ' That's settled, then,' rejoined the 
 Countess. ' I'll write at once, and ask 
 them to dine here Friday week. I shall 
 meet them, most likely, at the Berrimans'. 
 All the neiohbourhood will be there to- 
 morrow, I suppose ? ' 
 
 ' Except myself,' replied the Earl. 
 ' However, Berriman does the thing well, 
 and all that can be made of a garden- 
 party will be done.' 
 
 The Temple Rising people were very 
 pleased with their ddbttt at Roseneath. 
 Good-natured Mrs Berriman never did 
 things by halves, and she introduced the
 
 174 Long Odds. 
 
 Bramtons in all directions. Mankind is 
 prone to novelty, and the girls being 
 pretty and attractive, soon drew several 
 admirers to their side ; amongst these was 
 Sir Kenneth Sandiman. 
 
 Sir Kenneth was a man about forty, 
 who having pretty well dissipated the 
 small inheritance with which he began 
 life, was now seeking to repair his for- 
 tunes by a wealthy marriage. He had 
 already heard of the Bramtons, and no 
 sooner did he set his eyes on the girls 
 than he thought his opportunity was 
 come. He was a proud, conceited man, 
 with an exaggerated idea of his own im- 
 portance. He had never distinguished 
 himself in any way, and really carried 
 very little weight in his own county or 
 anywhere else. The baronetcy was an 
 old one, and had he felt free to wed 
 accordinof to the dictates of his nature. 
 Sir Kenneth would have aspired to 
 alliance with the peerage. As it was, he 
 must marry money, and he considered 
 that the transforming of Miss Bramton
 
 The Braintons make their Ddbttt. 175 
 
 into Lady Sandiman was an honour quite 
 sufficient to turn the head of either girl. 
 A tradesman, as he argued superciliously, 
 who could afford to buy Temple Rising 
 must be rich. The girls really were very 
 pretty, and inquiry told him there was 
 no son. Yes, it would do very well ; old 
 Bramton would doubtless be delighted to 
 give his daughters handsome dots if they 
 married to his satisfaction, and it wasn't 
 likely they could hope to be anything 
 higher than Lady Sandiman. The idea 
 of a rebuff never even entered Sir Ken- 
 neth's head. There was only one diffi- 
 culty, which he confidentially told Mrs 
 Berriman. 
 
 * I can't see any myself,' returned his 
 hostess bluntly, with all a good-natured 
 woman's wish to forward a suitable mar- 
 riage. ' You're just the age, Sir Kenneth, 
 that a man ou^ht to settle down. Either 
 of those girls would bring you a good 
 lump of money, and do you credit as 
 a wife.' 
 
 * My dear Mrs Berriman, you don't
 
 176 Long Odds. 
 
 quite understand me,' said the fastidious 
 baronet ; ' the trouble is, I can't make up 
 my mind which I admire most' 
 
 ' Upon my word,' rejoined his hostess, 
 * I don't think that need trouble you this 
 afternoon. You can't possibly expect to 
 make such rapid progress as to render any 
 decision on that point necessary to-day.' 
 
 ' I don't know,' rejoined Sir Kenneth 
 languidly. * Eligible men with a position 
 to offer are soon snapped up in these 
 times.' 
 
 * Pooh ! Sir Kenneth,' replied Mrs 
 Berriman, * don't you talk about position, 
 and all that sort of thing, to democrats 
 like us. Don't you know that my hus- 
 band is an advanced Radical, who is all 
 for doing away with titles and such like 
 frivolities.' 
 
 'Just so,' replied the imperturbable 
 baronet. ' Government will make him a 
 baronet some day, and then you'll see 
 how he'll change his opinions.' 
 
 Mrs Berriman shook her fan merrily at 
 him as she replied, —
 
 The Bramtons make their Ddbut. 1 7 7 
 
 ' You'd better go and have a good 
 think, and, when you've made up your 
 mind, commence your courtship. I have 
 introduced you, so that everything lies 
 at your own discretion.' 
 
 'Well, Mrs B.,' said John Bramton, in 
 an undertone, ' how are you getting on 
 with the aristocracy ? A more affable set 
 of gents I never saw in my life ; but they 
 seem to think a deal more of me as the 
 owner of Damocles than as the owner 
 of Temple Rising. I'll tell you what, 
 my dear, it's getting awkward. On the 
 strength of that blessed horse, they will 
 have it that I'm a sportsman ; one of the 
 right sort they say. Well, I hope so ; but 
 I don't feel very sure about keeping it up. 
 What do you think, I have promised to 
 subscribe to the hounds.' 
 
 ' Oh ! John, what made you do that ? 
 You know you were never out hunting 
 in your life.' 
 
 ' No ; but I haven't said anything about 
 following them, you know. This keep- 
 ing up the character of a real sportsman 
 VOL. I. M
 
 178 Long Odds. 
 
 is rather expensive, Margaret. There 
 was another fellow said he knew I'd 
 give them a pony for their local races, and 
 when I said that I didn't happen to have 
 such a thing in the stable at present, he 
 poked me in the ribs, and said, " I would 
 have my little joke, and that he should 
 put me down for twenty-five pounds," 
 and, what is more, he did ! ' 
 
 ' Well,' said Mrs Bramton, ' I suppose 
 one must subscribe to all these sort of 
 things when one lives in the country.' 
 
 * The country seems to think so. 
 There's a parson who got hold of me, 
 hoped I would allow him to put me down 
 for the cricket club ; had no doubt I 
 played. However, I lost no time in dis- 
 pelling that illusion. I told him he could 
 put me down for the club, but added 
 emphatically that I only looked on. 
 There was another fellow, too, very anxi- 
 ous to discuss a division of the water 
 with me, and when I told him that he 
 might have it all as I didn't do much in 
 that way, he thanked me profusely, and
 
 The Bramtons make their Ddbut. 1 79 
 
 said It was the best stretch of fishing in 
 the county. I'm rather sorry I gave it 
 him now, for if I am to set up as a 
 sportsman, fishing strikes me as the 
 safest Hne to come out in ! ' and then 
 Mr Bramton strolled away again, to be 
 once more bewildered by the attentions 
 of his sporting neighbours, who could 
 not be convinced that the brother of so 
 well-known a racing man as Richard 
 Bramton could be anything but a gentle- 
 man learned in horse-flesh, and of sport- 
 ing tendencies. 
 
 Sir Kenneth Sandiman, meanwhile, had 
 commenced operations in good earnest. 
 He had walked Miss Bramton clear of 
 the general crowd, and, having disposed 
 of the usual conventionalities customary 
 in our first intercourse with strangers, 
 was fast settling down into an incipient 
 flirtation with his fair companion. Matilda 
 Bramton was no novice at the game — 
 quite able to take care of herself, and 
 as much disposed to while away an hour 
 or two in this harmless amusement as
 
 i8o Long Odds. 
 
 her cavalier. She laughed at his pretty 
 speeches, and put but little value upon 
 them ; and when they parted, mutually 
 well pleased with each other, nobody 
 would have felt more astonished than 
 herself if she had been told that Sir 
 Kenneth Sandiman had serious intentions 
 concerning her.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE DINNER AT KNIGHTSHAYES. 
 
 * Well, Lucy, what did you think of our 
 party to-day ? ' inquired Miss Bramton, 
 as she came into her sister's room, just 
 previous to dressing for dinner. 
 
 * They were a pleasant lot of people, 
 and seem inclined to be civil. There 
 was one thing rather interested me, and 
 that was I heard Lady Ranksborow tell- 
 ing Mrs Berriman that Mr Flood had 
 returned to England. He is evidently 
 well known down here.' 
 
 ' Flood — Mr Flood ? Ah ! I remember. 
 One of the gentlemen who took care of 
 you in Cairo. More to the purpose, my
 
 1 82 Long Odds. 
 
 sister, if it had been the other who had 
 come home, wouldn't it ? ' 
 
 ' I don't suppose it much matters, 
 but I saw a good deal more of Captain 
 Cuxwold than I did of Mr Flood. How- 
 ever, they were both as kind as they 
 knew how to be.' 
 
 'Well, I've no experience of soldiers; 
 but they've a general reputation for being 
 rather good at making themselves agree- 
 able when they choose. What did you 
 think of my cavalier, Sir Kenneth ?' 
 
 ' He was extremely attentive ; in fact, 
 quite as devoted as it was possible for a 
 man to be at a first interview. I should 
 say, Matilda, he was rather struck with 
 you ! ' 
 
 'Oh, you goose!' said Miss Bramton, 
 laughing merrily ; ' that's only his natural 
 manner. Sir Kenneth can't help it. He 
 is one of those men who would make 
 love to a petticoat if he met it on a 
 clothes-line. He is a confirmed flirt, and, 
 I should think, never had serious inten- 
 tions in his life. However, he was very
 
 The Dinner at Knight shay es, 183 
 
 pleasant this afternoon. Was there any 
 talk of Mr Flood's coming down here ? ' 
 
 ' Not that I heard/ replied Lucy ; ' in 
 fact, all I discovered about him was what 
 I told you.' 
 
 Now it was an odd thing, but it had 
 never as yet occurred to Lucy to connect 
 the Captain Cuxwold she had met in Cairo 
 w^ith the Ranksborow family ; firstly, she 
 had no idea that he was entitled to the 
 preface of the Honourable Captain Cux- 
 wold ; and secondly, until this afternoon, 
 she had really not known the Earl of 
 Ranksborow's family name. The pres- 
 ence of Lady Jane and Lady Emily Cux- 
 wold at Mrs Berriman's party had cer- 
 tainly opened her eyes, and made her 
 speculate as to whether the dragoon she 
 had known at Cairo was any connection 
 of the Ranksborow family, but it still 
 never occurred to her that he was a junior 
 scion of the house. Neither she nor her 
 sister were much given to a study of the 
 peerage ; although the probability was 
 that they would now, at all events, read
 
 184 Long Odds. 
 
 up the Ranksborow tree, if only to ascer- 
 tain the exact ages of Lady Jane and Lady 
 Emily, — there being always much exulta- 
 tion in the feminine mind on convicting a 
 sister of a year or two more than she ac- 
 knowledges. Lucy most certainly would 
 have liked to meet Mr Flood, if only for 
 the purpose of inquiring about his friend ; 
 but she had heard nothing that led her to 
 believe that his appearance in Barkshire 
 was expected at present. 
 
 As for Mr Bramton, the result of the 
 Berrimans' party had been most titillating 
 to his vanity. He had found himself 
 looked upon as a man of no little import- 
 ance, but he was too shrewd not to see 
 that the possession of Damocles weighed 
 heavily in the estimation of his neigh- 
 bours. There was no question now of 
 selling the horses ; on the contrary, he 
 felt so proud of the distinction that the 
 owning of a racing stud seemed to confer 
 upon him, that he quite forgot it was the 
 property of his daughter and not of him- 
 self. The neighbourhood was determined
 
 The Dinner at Knightshayes. 185 
 
 to regard him as a sportsman. He was 
 not the first man whom circumstances 
 have thrust into a role for which they are 
 perfectly unfitted ; but it was no use deny- 
 ing it. Disclaims on his part were only 
 met with polite incredulity, and, with the 
 exception perhaps of the Earl of Ranks- 
 borow, there were none who did not 
 believe that John Bramton was a good 
 all-round sportsman, but especially that 
 he was a very knowing hand about turf 
 matters. Several men that afternoon had 
 sought to draw him into racing conversa- 
 tion ; his reticence thereon, which was due 
 merely to ignorance, was put down to 
 astuteness, and they one and all believed 
 that he could tell them a good deal if he 
 chose to speak. 
 
 Ah ! how often we are condemned out 
 of our own mouths ; how many of us 
 might be credited with wisdom if we 
 could but hold our tongues. 
 
 One thing certainly filled Mr Bramton 
 with misgivings, how was he to keep up 
 this cheaply-won reputation '^, He knew
 
 1 86 Lon^ Odds. 
 
 he could not sustain it in the saddle, and 
 he was conscious of having accepted 
 sundry hazily-defined invitations to * shoot 
 when the season began.' True there 
 were rather over two months before, as 
 he remarked to himself, that casualty 
 could occur, but he could not disguise, as 
 he thought of these invitations, that his 
 knowledge of firearms went no further 
 than shooting for nuts at a fair. The last 
 words of the gentleman whom he had 
 unintentionally obliged about the fishing 
 had been, 'Of course I'll drop you a re- 
 minder ; but mind you're pledged to 
 come to me on the first.' 
 
 * Can't say where I may be on the first,' 
 murmured Mr Bramton, * but it certainly 
 won't be at the house of that bloodthirsty 
 bird-slayer.' 
 
 But there was another section of the 
 turf world vastly moved and puzzled by 
 Mr John Bramton's movements. Mr 
 Skinner had been duly informed by his 
 employer of his utter failure to purchase 
 Damocles, and he in his turn informed the
 
 The Dinner at Knight shay es. 187 
 
 Earl that there was a growing anxiety to 
 know what Mr Bramton meant to do with 
 those horses. 
 
 ' Resolves itself/ said Mr Skinner, ' into 
 the great fact that your lordship has got 
 all the yearling books about the colt, and, 
 judging by his ddbut, it looks very much 
 as if he had a great chance of winning the 
 Derby. Now you will excuse my saying 
 that your lordship didn't exercise your 
 usual discretion when you accepted twenty 
 thousand to three hundred from James 
 Noel. It is very rarely that anybody 
 wins long odds from him, and, though as 
 long as the colt is with Stubber no harm 
 will come to him that his trainer can 
 possibly guard against, yet there's some- 
 thing in what one of the most straight- 
 forward bookmakers said in my hearing 
 only yesterday about Damocles, ''We 
 needn't bother our heads much about that 
 one. Jim Noel has laid him, and it's 
 wonderful how a horse comes to grief 
 when Jim has laid long odds against 
 him." '
 
 1 88 Long Odds, 
 
 The Earl was much exercised about 
 this letter. He had never stood to win 
 such a stake over a horse in his life as 
 he did over Damocles for next year's 
 Derby. He knew Mr James Noel — 
 nobody better — and could but admit that 
 there was reason in what Skinner told 
 him. As for Bramton, he hadn't quite 
 made up his mind about him. That the 
 man was sharp enough he had no doubt, 
 that he knew anything about racing he 
 thought extremely questionable; if he did, 
 then all he could say was that John 
 Bramton played the innocent better than 
 any man he had ever seen. But his 
 own opinion was that his ignorance was 
 not feigned ; and yet, the Earl reflected, 
 the owner of Temple Rising seemed to 
 have determined to act on his own judg- 
 ment in racing matters. However, the 
 Earl's stay at Knightshayes was draw- 
 ing to a close ; but before it was over, 
 it had been arranged that the Bramtons 
 should dine there. The Ranksborows 
 were people who broke the London
 
 The Dinner at Knights hay es. 189 
 
 season by taking an occasional run down 
 to their country seat. On the present 
 occasion the Countess and her daughters 
 had come down for a somewhat pro- 
 lono^ed edition of the Whitsuntide holi- 
 days, and the Earl had joined them at 
 Knightshayes after the termination of 
 the Ascot week. At this dinner Lord 
 Ranksborow felt that, if possible, he 
 must come to some arrangement with 
 his guest about the control of Dam- 
 ocles. The colt was entered in the July 
 Stakes at Newmarket as well as havino: 
 two or three engagements at Goodwood ; 
 and from the style in which he had won 
 on the Royal Heath, it did not seem 
 likely that the penalty he was rendered 
 liable to by his Ascot victory w^ould 
 interfere with his success for whatever 
 he might be elected to run. Now this 
 was exactly the control that the Earl 
 wished to possess — the deciding for what 
 races Damocles should compete — and al- 
 though buying the colt was out of his 
 power, he thought it very possible that
 
 190 Long Odds. 
 
 he might fill the place of turf-adviser 
 to John Bramton. In good sooth no 
 one was better calculated for the post. 
 He was not only an astute and veteran 
 turfite, but, in the present instance, his 
 interests and John Bramton's lay in the 
 same direction. The Earl had been 
 much too long at the game not to re- 
 cognise the truth of the old axiom that 
 'A bet is never a bet till it is hedged.' 
 Standing as he did to win an enormous 
 stake over Damocles, the more that 
 colt distinguished himself in his two- 
 year - old career, the better it would 
 serve his turn ; every race the horse 
 won would shorten the price against 
 him for next year's Derby, and afford 
 the Earl the opportunity of attaining that 
 halcyon, though rarely experienced, state 
 of things known as * standing on velvet,' 
 whereby is, of course, meant the standing 
 to win a comfortable stake with no pos- 
 sibility of loss. As before said, the Earl 
 regarded Mr Bramton as unfeignedly ig- 
 norant of racing. He looked on Stubber
 
 The Dinner at Knightshayes. 1 9 1 
 
 the trainer as a straightforward, honest 
 man, who could be thoroughly trusted to 
 do his duty with the horses under his 
 charge ; but when it came to pitting 
 Stubber against such a perfectly un- 
 scrupulous turf tactician as Mr James 
 Noel, Lord Ranksborow regarded it as 
 pretty much the country yokel playing 
 against a thimblerigger. 
 
 ' Stubber,' he muttered, ' is no doubt 
 straight enough ; but Noel, if he couldn't 
 get at the horse in the stable, would get 
 at the jockey out. No ; a man wants to 
 be master of every move on the board 
 to play against him. If I can, I'll play 
 my own hand ! ' 
 
 The dinner party duly came off, and no 
 sooner had the ladies left the room than 
 Lord Ranksborow exclaimed, — 
 
 ' Come up to my end of the table, 
 Bramton. I want to have a racine 
 palaver with you. Why, I've hardly 
 had an opportunity of congratulating you 
 about Damocles' victory in the New 
 Stakes.'
 
 192 Long Odds, 
 
 ' Very good of your lordship, I'm sure. 
 I'm sorry I couldn't oblige your lordship ; 
 but the fact is — ' 
 
 ' I'd no idea how good he was,' inter- 
 rupted the Earl, in an easy, off-hand 
 manner ; * and didn't offer you above a 
 quarter his value. Your brother was a 
 rattling good judge, and I knew he had 
 a very high opinion of the colt. I know 
 two things more now ; first, that your 
 brother was quite right, and, secondly, 
 that I can't afford to buy Damocles.' 
 
 ' No judge of these things myself, but 
 I suppose that horse is worth a tidy 
 sum. Now, what should you say, my 
 lord?' 
 
 * Couldn't price him at all, Bramton. 
 He's worth a lot more than I offered you 
 for him ; but I hope your not thinking 
 of selling him. Let's bring the Blue 
 Ribbon to Barkshire, though I can't 
 afford to pay for the luxury of winning 
 it' 
 
 'Well,' said John Bramton, as he 
 sipped his port, ' I've always found in
 
 The Dinner at Knight shay es. 193 
 
 business it's a mistake, you know, to 
 stand out too long. It's always difficult 
 to know when the top of the market is 
 reached. You make a good spec' say, 
 and buy goods at 80 ; they run up to 
 115, and you say at 120 I'll sell; then 
 comes a sudden drop, and you are per- 
 haps glad to take 90 or so after all.' 
 
 ' I hope you'll allow me to guide you a 
 little in this matter. You mustn't think of 
 selling the colt yet. I assure you there's 
 a lot of money to be made out of him. 
 Now, for instance, there are the July 
 Stakes next month. I suppose you'll run 
 him for that ? ' 
 
 ' I'm sure I don't know. I didn't know 
 that he was in for such a thing. I've 
 never even seen him yet. By the way, 
 I don't want to make any scandal, but, 
 you know, I haven't heard anything about 
 that money I won at Ascot yet. I sup- 
 pose I had better write about it ? ' 
 
 ' I've not the slightest doubt Messrs 
 Weatherby in Old Burlington Street have 
 placed it to your account,' replied the Earl, 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 194 Long Odds. 
 
 lauo^hine. 'You must come down to New- 
 
 o o 
 
 market next month and see your colt run/ 
 ' Ah ! I suppose It is the proper thing 
 to do when you're an owner of racehorses,' 
 and Mr Bramton thrust his thumbs into the 
 armholes of his waistcoat and threw him- 
 self into his favourite pompous attitude ; 
 •' but I leave most of the arrangements 
 to Stubber, my fellow, you know — sort 
 of medical man in charge of the horses, 
 keeps em in health, and all that sort of 
 thing/ 
 
 ' I know him. Excellent man. No bet- 
 ter trainer at Newmarket ; but it is as well 
 to look after these sort of things yourself.' 
 ' Quite so, quite so,' replied Mr Bram- 
 ton. ' The only thing is when you're no 
 judge of the goods, by which I mean 
 the horses, it's best to leave the buying 
 and selling, by which I mean the settling 
 what they're to do, to somebody who 
 understands the business. Now, my lord, 
 the only thing I can understand is putting 
 these horses up to auction, and letting 'em 
 go for what they will fetcii. Stubber re-
 
 The Dinner at Knight shay es. 195 
 
 commends me to do that, and I've told 
 him to arrano^e to do it next month.' 
 
 ' God bless my soul ! man,' exclaimed 
 the Earl excitedly, ' you don't mean to 
 say you are going to put Damocles up 
 for sale next month ? ' 
 
 ' Bramton is joking,' cried Mr Berri- 
 man, who had been listening to the con- 
 versation with no little curiosity. ' You 
 can't mean to deprive Barkshire of the 
 honour of taking its first Derby ? ' 
 
 ' You didn't let me finish/ said John 
 Bramton. ' Stubber advised me to sell 
 the whole stud, bar Damocles and a horse 
 called Whitechapel, which, it seems, he 
 thinks necessary to " lead the work," 
 whatever that may mean.' 
 
 Mr Berriman and the Earl laughed, and 
 the former said : 
 
 ' It won't do, Bramton ; it won't do. 
 Fellows talk *' horse " very often who 
 know precious little about it, but you 
 don't catch me takino^ lono^ odds from 
 a fellow who pretends to know as little 
 about it as you do. Bless you, my boy,
 
 196 Long Odds. 
 
 I've been had by the innocents in my day. 
 We know all about the Heathen Chinee 
 and the game " he did not understand." ' 
 If Berriman and the Earl did, Bramton 
 did not. He had been a busy man all 
 his life till quite lately, and his reading 
 had been pretty strictly confined to the 
 daily papers, and, as we know, there were 
 some parts of those at which he never 
 elanced. But one things Bramton did 
 understand, and that was that the general 
 public were determined to regard him as 
 a sportsman, and that his affectation of 
 ignorance on the subject was regarded as 
 a capital joke. In racing matters this is so 
 constantly the case, that the man who knows 
 nothing, and maintains a rigid silence, is 
 always regarded as a model of astuteness, 
 and when, considerably more to his own 
 surprise than that of anybody else, the 
 horse which he has not backed for a six- 
 pence wins easily, he is credited with hav- 
 ing won an enormous stake, and having 
 been a very Mephistophiles in the mani- 
 pulation of the betting market.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Lucy's innoculation. 
 
 Lord Ranksborow, as they joined the 
 ladles, was hardly satisfied with the results 
 of his diplomatic dinner. Mr Bramton, 
 while quite admitting that his ignorance 
 of racing distinctly unfitted him to deter- 
 mine for what stakes Damocles should run, 
 yet by no means seemed desirous of hand- 
 ing over such decision to his host. Mr 
 Bramton, in his business days, had been 
 apt to reckon up his fellows pretty ac- 
 curately. He had come to the conclusion 
 that Mr Stubbcr was an honest, enereetic 
 man, who knew what he was about, and 
 he thought it just as well that the manage- 
 ment of the colt should be left entirely to
 
 198 Long Odds. 
 
 him. The Earl had sounded his guest 
 
 pretty freely on this point ; but though 
 
 John Bramton temporised, and did not 
 
 positively decline to accept Lord Ranks- 
 
 borow's proffered services, yet he never 
 
 for one second committed himself, and 
 
 boldly made the request which the Earl 
 
 had hoped, namely, that he would take 
 
 the entire management of Damocles. He 
 
 would go no further than saying that he 
 
 was extremely fortunate to have a friend 
 
 like his lordship, to whom he could always 
 
 come for advice, but he would not pledge 
 
 himself even not to sell the colt. He 
 
 would go no further than say he should 
 
 not part with him at present. He would 
 
 hear what Stubber had to say after the 
 
 others were sold, etc. In fact, the Earl 
 
 rather ruefully came to the conclusion 
 
 that John Bramton meant to take his 
 
 own way in this business, and that his 
 
 trainer would probably have more to say 
 
 to the tactics of the stable than any one 
 
 else. 
 
 *A deuced knowincr shot this,' mused
 
 Lucy s InnocitlalioJi. . 199 
 
 the Earl, * and perfectly able to take care 
 of himself. They'll not get Temple Rising- 
 out of him as they did from poor Moly- 
 neux ; but, shrewd as he is, he has one 
 weak point, and that point might cost 
 him a lot of money, as it has done many 
 others. He has a tremendous idea of 
 his own importance, and that will be my 
 safeguard about his sticking to Damocles. 
 He has already discovered that owning 
 the first favourite of the Derby adds to 
 his importance. It will be easy to keep 
 that feeling alive in a dozen different ways, 
 and as long as his pocket is not touched 
 too severely, he'll not forego the swagger 
 of the position.' 
 
 In the course of the evening the Miss 
 Bramtons were also made conscious of 
 the pleasures of owning successful race- 
 horses. Several trophies in the way of 
 cups decorated both the dinner- table and 
 the sideboard, which had been won by 
 the Earl in the course of his turf career. 
 Lady Jane Cuxwold, too, showed a hand- 
 some bracelet which her father had given
 
 200 Long Odds. 
 
 her upon the occasion of his winning the 
 Chester Cup some four years ago. The 
 Earl was lavish to his family when fortune 
 smiled upon him ; and when they saw the 
 interest the Miss Bramtons took in it, 
 the Countess as well as her daughters 
 exhibited various specimens of the spoils 
 of war. 
 
 Lady Ranksborow was not a little 
 struck by the keen, sensible inquiries that 
 Lucy Bramton made about turf matters. 
 The girl evidently knew but little about 
 them, but she was very persistent in her 
 endeavours to understand the mysteries of 
 racing. Her sister, on the other hand, 
 gabbled on as young ladies are some- 
 what wont to do, saying it must be de- 
 lightful to win races and get bangles, 
 and that she was quite sure that she 
 should delight in it ; that she had never 
 seen anything of it yet ; but that, now 
 her uncle had left them his stud, of course 
 they should go everywhere. 
 
 Now it must be borne in mind that 
 though Mrs and Miss Bramton were per-
 
 Lucys Innoculation. 201 
 
 fectly well aware that Richard Bramton's 
 property had been all left to Lucy, yet 
 they never proclaimed that fact, and were 
 indeed honestly ignorant that these race- 
 horses were not only hers, but that it was 
 an open question whether they were not 
 under her own immediate control ; that 
 she could positively decide for what stakes 
 they should run ; and that it would be a 
 fine point for the lawyers whether Lucy, 
 for instance, had not the right to strike 
 Damocles out of all engagements. The 
 young lady was very quiet, but she had 
 a will of her own. Her uncle's money 
 she knew must come positively into her 
 own possession when she came of age, 
 and, besides the desire to carry out her 
 uncle's last wishes, her Imao^Inatlon had 
 been highly inflamed by the victory of 
 Damocles at Ascot. Then these Ranks- 
 borow people, who had all been brought 
 up amidst the racecourse and the hunt- 
 ing field, still further excited her, and 
 she began to think that It would be 
 rather a fine thine to be the owner of
 
 202 Long Odds. 
 
 a few racehorses. Under the tuition of 
 Lady Jane and Lady Emily, she made 
 considerable progress in turf lore. That 
 evening she ascertained that there was 
 nothing out of the way in a lady keep- 
 ing some, though they usually ran them 
 In an assumed name ; and the result of 
 all this talk was that Lucy resolved to 
 ascertain at once how far her control really 
 extended over Mr Stubber's charores. For 
 
 o 
 
 instance, she knew her father was con- 
 templating the sale of the greater part 
 of them. At all events she would write 
 to Mr Pecker, and have a legal opinion 
 as to whether this could be done in op- 
 position to her wishes, should she think 
 fit to decree otherwise. However, in the 
 meantime, the appearance of the gentle- 
 men changed the tenor of the conversa- 
 tion, and Miss Bramton, at all events, 
 was soon immersed in her flirtation with 
 Sir Kenneth Sandiman. 
 
 ' Nice affable people the Ranksborows," 
 said Mr Bramton, as they drove home. 
 ' Not a bit stuck up. Being an owner of
 
 Lucys Innoc2ilation. 203 
 
 racehorses, you see, gives one a sort of 
 tone in society, I find. Bless you ! they 
 all seem to regard me as an authority.' 
 
 * I don't see much use in it, if we're 
 never to go and see races,' rejoined Miss 
 Bramton, rather sharply. ' Lady Jane 
 told me they always went to Ascot, and 
 was quite surprised that we were not 
 there to see Damocles win.' 
 
 * Yes, papa, and they would not believe 
 that we had never even seen him. I must 
 see Damocles.' said Lucy, with quiet but 
 decided emphasis ; and the girl was more 
 than ever confirmed in her resolve to write 
 to Mr Pecker on the morrow. 
 
 ' Yes, John ; we really must go to the 
 next fashionable gathering. I don't know 
 when it is, or where it is, but we must 
 
 go- 
 
 ' Yes ; and it's the proper thing to give 
 your daughters bracelets or something of 
 that sort when you win, papa ! ' exclaimed 
 Matilda. 
 
 ' Yes ; and you must win, and you must 
 do it,' chorused Lucy.
 
 204 Long Odds. 
 
 ' I tell you what it Is/ said Mr Bramton 
 testily, ' if an owner of racehorses is liable 
 to all these obligations, the sooner I'm 
 out of the lot the better,' 
 
 ' Oh ! you can't do that, papa. Lady 
 Ranksborow said she was sure you were 
 too good a sportsman to part with Damo- 
 cles before he had won the Derby.' 
 
 ' Well,' said Mr Bramton, ' I'm not sure 
 I'm quite calculated to make a good 
 sportsman ; it seems that there is a little 
 too much expected of one. Now, as far 
 as a quiet day's fishing goes, I don't 
 mind ; but this subscribing to the hounds, 
 etc., I don't exactly see.' 
 
 *A11 quite necessary in your position, 
 papa dear,' said Miss Matilda. ^ I'm sure 
 we've had a most delio^htful eveninor and 
 Sir Kenneth is a most agreeable man, 
 worth a hundred of those old business 
 frumps or young City prigs you used to 
 bring home to dinner at Wimbledon.' 
 
 John Bramton relapsed into silence. 
 The contest was too unequal — the ladies 
 were all against him — ^and he found him-
 
 L^Lcy s Iniioctdation. 205 
 
 self, so to speak, under such a cross-fire of 
 conversation that the holdino^ of his tongue 
 was the most discreet thinsf he could do • 
 and in spite of the elation the being the 
 reputed owner of Damocles had occasioned 
 him during the evening, he thought, per- 
 haps, that the sooner he got rid of the 
 horses, which he had now quite learned to 
 consider his own, the better. 
 
 ' What does Dartree say ? ' inquired the 
 Earl, as he entered his wife's room, and 
 found the Countess glancing over a letter 
 in her son's handwriting. 
 
 ' I was so late that I hadn't time to 
 read it before dinner,' replied Lady Ranks- 
 borow ; ' but there's nothing much in it, 
 imless you consider this message to you 
 of importance. " Tell my father," he says, 
 ''that Damocles is very unsteady in the 
 market. There's a tendency to lay against 
 him in somewhat dangerous quarters. No 
 reason that I can hear of except they say 
 that he will be offered for sale durinij the 
 July week. Ask him if he knows any- 
 thing about it." '
 
 2o6 Lono^ Odds. 
 
 i> 
 
 ' Know anything about it,' said the Earl 
 irritably. * I know as much about it as it's 
 possible to know with such a suspicious, 
 undecided fool as Bramton to deal with.' 
 
 * I think you're wrong there, Rank,' said 
 the Countess. ' It strikes me Mr Bramton 
 is no fool, whatever else he may be.' 
 
 * No, you're quite right, he isn't ; but 
 he's so afraid of anybody getting the 
 better of him, of his not making the 
 very most of these horses, that it's im- 
 possible to wring a decided answer out 
 of him about what he's going to do with 
 Damocles. He has eaten my mutton and 
 drank my claret,' continued the Earl, 
 laughing, * under false pretences to-night. 
 I asked him here for the purpose of 
 o^ettinor a distinct declaration of his views 
 on that very point. I wanted him to let 
 me have the management of the horse ; 
 but no, all I could get out of him was 
 that he had not as yet made up his mind 
 to sell Damocles, which I knew before.' 
 
 ' You and Dart stand to w^in a bio; stake 
 over this horse, don't you } ' ^
 
 Lucy s IjniociLlatioii. 207 
 
 'Yes.' 
 
 'And would rather he remained in Mr 
 Bramton's hands than otherwise ? ' 
 
 ' Just so,' said the Earl, with a nod. 
 
 ' Then you leave it to me and the 
 girls, Rank. You needn't laugh ; we can 
 do more for you than you think here. 
 Jane and Emily, without intending it, 
 have eiven the Miss Bramtons the 
 racine fever to-nio^ht. We'll take care 
 it don't cool. They'll never let their 
 father sell Damocles.' 
 
 Lord Ranksborow laughed. 
 
 'All right,' he rejoined; 'do your best. 
 Remember, if Damocles won, next day 
 there would be an easiness in the money 
 market to which for years we've been 
 unaccustomed.' 
 
 True to her resolve, the next morning 
 Lucy wrote to Mr Pecker to inquire 
 how her powers stood with regard to 
 this proposed sale. Mr Pecker's answer, 
 which arrived in the course of two or 
 three days, was clear and succinct. 
 
 ' With regard to the greater part of
 
 2o8 Long Odds. 
 
 these horses, no question arises. The 
 condition of the will is, till they have 
 run through their engagements. Most 
 of them have been nominated by the 
 late Richard Bramton, and such nomina- 
 tions are void by his death. Damocles 
 and another two-year-old called Lucifer, 
 both heavily engaged, are nominated by 
 Mr Stubber, as also, it appears, is a five- 
 year-old named Whitechapel, in one or 
 two instances. The question, therefore, 
 of your power to keep or sell under the 
 codicil are confined to these three ; and, 
 in the case of the latter horse, it will 
 speedily expire, as his engagements will 
 be fulfilled. With Damocles and Lucifer 
 the case is very different, as their en- 
 gagements extend over the whole of 
 next year, and even into the year beyond, 
 I have taken counsel's opinion, and the 
 result is that, though admittedly a very 
 fine point, the authority I consulted 
 thinks the codicil goes beyond a wish, 
 and implies a condition of inheritance 
 which might be legally disputed if not
 
 Lucys Innoc2ilation. 209 
 
 complied with. As far as we know, 
 there is nobody to raise the question ; 
 but, as a lawyer, I must say, '' Dont 
 give a possible somebody the chanced My 
 racing experiences are of little value, 
 but my advice to you would be to let 
 these horses run through engagements 
 at the discretion of their trainer. Mr 
 Stubber has the credit of being a clever, 
 straightforward man in his business, and, 
 from what he told me, Damocles will 
 more than pay all expenses.' 
 
 Bitten as Lucy was, but in much more 
 genuine fashion than her father, with a 
 strong inclination to dabble with the turf, 
 this letter was eminently satisfactory. 
 With her father, the possession or con- 
 trol of racehorses was merely a thing he 
 desired because it increased his import- 
 ance ; but Lucy's imagination had been 
 excited by the Ladies Cuxwold, and she 
 had begun to dream of seeing her own 
 horse and her own colours at Ascot, 
 Goodwood, or some of the great turf 
 social gatherings. Mr Pecker's letter 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 2IO Long Odds. 
 
 told her that it behoved her to keep 
 three of the horses, and amongst them 
 Damocles, which, from what her uncle 
 had told her, and from what she had 
 heard since, she believed to be much 
 the best horse she possessed ; and, in- 
 deed, it was to him she looked for the 
 attainment of such social successes as 
 she might attain on the racecourse. She 
 looked forward to the time when she 
 might become the heroine of the hour ; 
 when she might be pointed out as the 
 owner of Damocles, who had just won 
 the principal race at Sandown. She had 
 read only a little before that the Mar- 
 chioness of Budleigh had appeared in the 
 royal paddock at Ascot attired in a dress 
 of her husband's racing colours. Then 
 she wondered what Uncle Dick's colours 
 were ; and then came woman's natural 
 hope that they were pretty — thinking over 
 as she was this matter of a dress of the 
 same colours, it was highly essential that 
 they should be so. For instance, she had 
 read in this very account of somebody's
 
 Lucy s I nno dilation. 211 
 
 well-known jacket of white and green 
 spots proving triumphant. Now, what 
 was any woman to make of a dress of 
 that description ? However, she sup- 
 posed colours could be changed like other 
 things ; and then, I'm afraid, it occurred 
 to her feminine and uninstructed mind that 
 it might be nice to change her colours as 
 she did her dresses, or, at all events, once 
 every season. She had yet to learn that 
 a thorough turfite is devoted to his jacket 
 — as proud of the banner which he had 
 seen borne triumphant in a hundred frays 
 as the soldier of the colours under which 
 he has fought and bled. 
 
 Then she fell to ruminating on Mr 
 Pecker's letter. Armed with that, she 
 felt she could defy her father, who, though 
 flattered, as above said, by the importance 
 the ownership of Damocles conferred upon 
 him, was too keen a money-maker not to 
 sell the horse for a large sum if the matter 
 rested entirely with him. As a matter of 
 sport, Mr Bramton felt no manner of 
 interest in the inheritance that had come
 
 212 Long Odds. 
 
 to his daughter ; as a matter of swagger^ 
 he no doubt did. But Lucy knew that 
 her father's old business habits would 
 eclipse that as soon as the bait dangled 
 before his eyes was big enough. Armed 
 with Mr Pecker's letter, she felt that she 
 could do as she liked with her own, 
 although a good year must elapse before 
 she attained her majority.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MR SKINNER IS PUZZLED. 
 
 ^ Well, Stubber,' exclaimed Mr Skinner, 
 as he encountered the trainer coming 
 home with his string from the Heath on 
 the Monday in the July week, * I see Dick 
 Bramton's horses are all up for sale, bar 
 Damocles ? ' 
 
 ' Not quite,' replied the other as he 
 walked his cob aloneside the commis- 
 sloner's hack. ' My new employer has 
 kept Damocles, and Whitechapel to lead 
 him, at my request ; but I'll tell you one 
 thing- more, Mr John Bramton may know 
 nothlnir about thinors, but there is some- 
 body pulling the strings who docs. I 
 wonder who has recommended him to
 
 2 14 Long Odds. 
 
 keep Lucifer — never suggested it — but 
 whoever did is a good judge.' 
 
 ' Promising, eh ?' remarked Skinner. 
 
 * Yes ; he Is a smartish colt, though 
 backward. I've never been able to try 
 him properly yet, but I've no doubt, 
 before the end of the season, he will 
 show himself what I tell you.' 
 
 ' I suppose Mr Bramton never comes 
 down to look at the horses ? ' 
 
 ' Never been down since they were 
 his,' rejoined the trainer ; ' never had an 
 employer in my life who took so little 
 interest in racingf. I went to see him 
 once, and I've written to him several 
 times, and telegraphed to him besides, but 
 I've only had one letter from him, and 
 that was to tell me that I was to put all 
 the horses up for sale this week, with the 
 exception of the three mentioned. I'm 
 very glad he's going to stick to Damocles, 
 and I'm glad he keeps Lucifer ; but what 
 prompted him to keep the latter, I'm 
 jiggered if I know.' 
 
 'It is odd where he s^ot that hint/
 
 Mr Skinner is puzzled. 215 
 
 remarked Skinner. 'Why, even I, who 
 am always at it, didn't know that you 
 reckoned Lucifer smart. Of course I 
 knew you had got a colt of that name. 
 Lucifer by Satan, out of Morning Star, 
 is pretty heavily entered, but the very 
 horse-watchers haven't begun to talk about 
 him yet.' 
 
 ' No ; and he won't be seen out till the 
 back end. If Mr Bramton had been a 
 racing gentleman, I should have told him 
 not to part with that one, but I w^as so 
 afraid of his putting Damocles up for sale, 
 that I didn't like to go too far. Dam'me, 
 he looks upon racehorses as not only 
 expensive, but dangerous besides.' 
 
 'Well, good-bye, Stubber. I must go 
 home and get some breakfast. I don't 
 suppose the penalty will stop your colt in 
 the Julys.' 
 
 ' Not a bit of it,' laughed the trainer ; 
 'he could carry five pound more, and win. 
 Take advice, and though it is contrary to 
 your rule, stand the favourite for once.' 
 
 ' I think I must,' replied the bookmaker,
 
 2i6 Long Odds. 
 
 smiling, ' if the odds on him are not too 
 expensive. Good-morning. I'd give a 
 sovereign,' muttered Mr Skinner to him- 
 self, ' to know what induced John Bram- 
 ton to keep Lucifer.' 
 
 Little escaped Mr Skinner's notice. He 
 would never have obtained the position he 
 held, and the substance he possessed, had 
 it not been for his faculty of close obser- 
 vation. It was a maxim with him that 
 information, however trivial, was always 
 worth picking up. A straw shows which 
 way the wind blows, and racing men are 
 wonderfully quick at catching a hint that 
 will be of use to them in their vocation. 
 Many a trifle like this had, when inter- 
 preted, helped Mr Skinner to make money. 
 The mere fact of Lucifer not being offered 
 for sale would sueeest that the stable set 
 store upon him ; and his trainer freely 
 acknowledged that they were sanguine 
 about his turning out promising. But 
 the bookmaker looked upon it that he 
 had caught a clue to somethinof more 
 than that — a clue to what, he had no
 
 Mr Skinner is puzzled. 2 1 7 
 
 Idea—but what motive had John Bram- 
 ton in excepting this colt from his ap- 
 proaching sale ? Damocles and White- 
 chapel he could understand, that was by 
 the advice of his trainer, and it was quite 
 likely that Bramton, after tasting the 
 sweets of winning, might think that there 
 was more money to be made by running 
 Damocles than selling him. But these 
 reasons did not apply to Lucifer. Stubber 
 had most distinctly said that it was by no 
 advice of his that the colt was kept, and 
 whether he could win or not was yet to 
 be seen. A shrewd, suspicious man, but 
 with no great faith in anybody but him- 
 self, Mr Skinner turned this puzzle over 
 and over in his mind as he walked his 
 hack home to his lod^ines. 
 
 Lord Ranksborow had taken a much 
 more correct estimate than his commis- 
 sioner. True he had had many more 
 opportunities of seeing the owner of 
 Temple Rising than his agent ; but 
 Skinner had fallen into the mistake that, 
 because Bramton was simple and ignor-
 
 2i8 Long Odds. 
 
 ant about the affairs of the turf, he was 
 equally simple and foolish in other matters. 
 Lord Ranksborow had divined this ; he 
 saw that Bramton was a man who usually 
 acted on his own judgment, and that if 
 he sought advice eagerly about the dis- 
 posal of these horses, it was not so much 
 that he meant to take it, but really to 
 learn the worth of and how to make the 
 most of the property that had so unex- 
 pectedly fallen into his hands. Could 
 they but have known the real state of 
 the case, and seen Mr Pecker's last 
 letter, both Mr Skinner and the Earl 
 would have been not a little astonished. 
 However, Mr Skinner could make no 
 more of his puzzle at present than that 
 Lord Ranksborow must have been the 
 person who had inspired Bramton to 
 keep Lucifer, and yet, somehow, he felt 
 that was not the true solution. First 
 of all, the Earl usually confided to him 
 any piece of turf strategy which he had 
 planned ; and secondly, what object could 
 his patron have in the^ retention of
 
 Mr Skinner is puzzled. 2 1 9 
 
 Lucifer ? According to Stubber, they 
 had never as yet fairly tried the colt, 
 and their estimate of his merits was 
 therefore conjectural. He was not a 
 youngster for whom a long price had 
 been paid, as In the case of Damocles, 
 nor had he been talked about, nor his 
 advent on a racecourse expected with all 
 the Interest and curiosity that had at- 
 tended that of the latter. He doubted, 
 Indeed, whether Lucifer's career as yet 
 was not a matter of complete Indifference 
 to Lord Ranksborow, and then asked 
 himself again, angrily, * What the deuce 
 made John Bramton keep that colt ? ' 
 Mr Skinner had passed much time, and 
 not altogether unprofitably, In working 
 out knotty points of this description. 
 
 There were two other men also return- 
 Incr from the Heath after watching- the 
 gallops that morning, but these young- 
 persons were not riding, but trusting to 
 their own leo^s to brinor them back to 
 town. 
 
 ' It's a little hard, Sim,' said the younger
 
 2 20 Long Odds. 
 
 of the two, a fresh-complexioned young 
 fellow of about twenty ; ' those horses will 
 fetch a pot of money next week, and 
 by rights I ought to have the biggest 
 part of it.' 
 
 * If what you tell me is true,' replied 
 his companion, a sharp, wizened, preter- 
 naturally old young man, ' it is rather 
 rough. Richard Bramton must have left 
 a good bit of money behind him, and 
 if what you say is true, and you really 
 are his son, he ought to have done some- 
 thing for you ; but nobody ever heard 
 that Dick Bramton was married.' 
 
 ' Well, it was many years ago, and I 
 don't suppose he was much older than 
 I am now, and then he and mother soon 
 parted. They couldn't get along together. 
 I don't want to say a word against her, 
 poor thing, but you see, Sim, she had a 
 temper, and what's worse, she couldn't 
 leave the botde alone. It's not much 
 wonder Bramton couldn't get on with 
 her.' 
 
 ' You will excuse my asking a question,'
 
 J/r Skinner is pnzzled, 2 2 1 
 
 said Simon Napper, ' I suppose you've 
 got proof of this marriage ? ' 
 
 * No, I haven't ; but mother always 
 declared she was married.' 
 
 Mr Napper was an attorney's clerk, 
 and his profession taught him to put 
 but little faith in an assertion that could 
 not be corroborated. 
 
 ' And you've never been called by any 
 other name than Robbins ? ' 
 
 ' No,' returned the other. 'When my 
 father and mother separated, it was a 
 condition that she should resume her 
 maiden name, and live away from New- 
 market. He allowed her all he could at 
 first, and latterly made her a fairly liberal 
 allowance ; but a little before her death 
 he gave her a lump sum down.' 
 
 *I see,' said Mr Napper; 'he capital- 
 ised the allowance, and made it over to 
 her to do as she liked with.' 
 
 ' Not altogether,' replied Robbins ; ' she 
 could only touch the interest during her 
 life, but she could will it to whom she 
 liked.'
 
 2 22 Long Odds. 
 
 ' And she, I suppose, left It to you ? ' 
 
 * Yes ; but what was the good of three 
 thousand pounds ? ' 
 
 'Good of it?' returned Mr Napper ; 
 ' why, it was enough to start any man 
 with a head on his shoulders in any 
 business. Why, your father Dick Bram- 
 ton began with nothing, and he left, 
 according to all accounts, a pretty good 
 pile behind him.' 
 
 • Yes,' returned Robbins ; ' but then he 
 had such luck. Now, I never had any 
 luck. If I back a horse, it's sure to 
 break down or do something awkward — 
 go the wrong side of the post, or be 
 disqualified for foul riding.' 
 
 ' Strikes me, Master Tom, there was 
 just this difference between yourself and 
 your father, — he had a head on his 
 shoulders, and mentally you've not. 
 Didn't he ever take any notice of you ? 
 Didn't he ever do anything for you ? ' 
 
 'No; I never knew he was my father 
 even till after his death. My mother was 
 very ill then, and she told me the story,
 
 Mr Skimter is puzzled. 223 
 
 and vowed that she was really married to 
 him. She said she had kept the secret, 
 as she had promised, and would have 
 still kept it had it not been for his death. 
 A few weeks later, poor soul, and she 
 followed him.' 
 
 ' And he never did anything for 
 you ?' 
 
 ' Well,' replied Tom Robbins, in a 
 somewhat shamefaced way, ' you know 
 some three years ago, just about the time 
 you were articled, you were astonished at 
 my being taken into the bank. Well, 
 mother said a very old friend of hers had 
 managed that for her, and given her a 
 liberal cheque for me to get a regular 
 rig out with. As you know, it wasn't 
 many months before I got the sack. 
 Mother was in a great taking about it ; 
 said I'd quarrelled with the best friend 
 I had, who was very angry, and declared 
 he'd do nothing more for me. Now I 
 don't know for certain, but I think that 
 was my father.' 
 
 * Most likely,' rejoined Mr Napper.
 
 2 24 Lo7ig Odds. 
 
 ' Well, you were a fool, though, of course, 
 you didn't know how big a one at the 
 time. Nothing is more likely than that 
 you would have come into a big slice of 
 Dick Bramton's money if you had only 
 kept straight. I suppose you've made a 
 tidy hole in that three thousand pounds 
 your mother left you ? ' 
 
 ' Yes,' replied Tom Robbins ; ' I'm such 
 an unlucky devil, I never win.' 
 
 Mr Tom Robbins was a weak-kneed, 
 foolish young man, with no backbone to 
 his character, with idle and vicious pro- 
 pensities, never likely to do any good for 
 himself in this world, and who, had he 
 had the slightest idea of his claim upon 
 Richard Bramton, would have endea- 
 voured to batten on him like a horse- 
 leech. The very few people who knew 
 anything about this episode in Richard 
 Bramton's earlier life would, I fancy, have 
 put a very different complexion upon it. 
 They would rather have laughed at the 
 idea of there having been any marriage, 
 and pronounced Dick Bramton thoroughly
 
 Mr Skinner is puzzled. 225 
 
 justified in not binding himself for life 
 to a woman of such violent temper and 
 intemperate habits as Mary Robbins. 
 Moreover, it might have been very 
 plausibly argued that, if she had mar- 
 riage lines to show, such a headstrong 
 woman as Mary Robbins would never 
 have acquiesced in abandoning her posi- 
 tion as a wife. Further, scandal rather 
 credited her with being but a light o' 
 love at the best. 
 
 * Well, I did think I should have taken 
 something under his will,' continued Tom, 
 after a short pause. 'As I've never heard 
 from the lawyers anything about it, nor, 
 indeed, what his will was, I suppose 
 there is nothing for me. If I could only 
 find that certificate, I suppose, I should 
 come into all.' 
 
 * That don't follow at all,' rejoined 
 Mr Napper. ' Richard Bramton could 
 leave his money to whom he pleased, and 
 from all I've heard, Dick Bramton was 
 just the man to leave a son out in the 
 cold who displeased him.' 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 2 26 Long Odds. 
 
 'But it's deuced unfair!' cried Tom, 
 in a lachrymose tone, ' that everything- 
 should go to an uncle whom I've never 
 seen. There might be something left 
 to me ; there might be a recommenda- 
 tion to my Uncle John to lend me a 
 hand. I should like to see that will.' 
 
 ' You are perfectly right there,' rejoined 
 Mr Napper ; 'always see a will in which 
 you think there is any possibility of your 
 being interested. It only costs a shill- 
 ing, and it's worth the trouble and out- 
 lay. On the off chance, I don't suppose 
 anything will come of it, but, as I said 
 before, it's worth spending a shilling 
 oven' 
 
 ' I'll do it,' said Tom ; ' and now I 
 must go home and write my report' 
 
 Mr Robbins at present held the re- 
 sponsible position of reporter at head- 
 quarters to a London sporting paper, and 
 though so far he had never electrified its 
 readers by any striking intelligence, yet 
 he managed to get through his w^ork well 
 enough to retain his situation.
 
 Mr Skhiner is puzzled. 227 
 
 * He'll never come to any good, 
 thought Simon Napper, as he mused 
 over the above conversation. * She 
 didn't like to acknowledge it, no doubt, 
 but depend upon it, his mother never 
 was married ; and a self-made, reliant 
 man like Richard Bramton would have 
 no patience with a feeble, feckless fool 
 like that. Tom little thought when he 
 was kicked out of that situation, and 
 used to be swaggering and vapouring 
 about what a fast life he had led in 
 London, that he was doing this under 
 the nose of his own father, and a father 
 too, with a pot of money to leave.'
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE JULY STAKES. 
 
 The racing world were gathered together 
 at the back of the ditch for the celebra- 
 tion of one of the pleasantest meetings 
 of the year. After the roar of Epsom 
 and the crowd of Ascot the comparative 
 quiet of the July Meeting is most enjoy- 
 able. Held in the midst of summer, 
 and favoured as a rule with splendid 
 weather, it enjoys also another distinct 
 privilege — there Is licence in the matter 
 of dress. On the Royal Heath fashion 
 demands the showiest costumes, and is 
 inexorable about the chimney-pot on the 
 part of the male sex. At Newmarket 
 you may do as you please in the matter
 
 The July Stakes. 229 
 
 of attire, and defy the fierce rays of the 
 sun as you so will It. Amongst those 
 who had come for the sport were a con- 
 siderable section who were quite as much 
 attracted by the sales. To many men 
 the looking over thoroughbred stock, the 
 talking over how the youngsters are 
 bred, the arguing about the different 
 strains of blood, and, above all, how the 
 prices for which the youngsters are sold 
 coincides with their own judgment, is 
 quite as interesting as the racing Itself ; 
 then there were the buyers always ex- 
 pecting to draw a prize out of that most 
 capricious of lucky-bags, a yearling sale. 
 Often as they have given long prices 
 only to find that the youngsters who 
 had fallen to the auctioneer's hammer 
 for a thousand and upwards were never 
 destined to realise the high hopes enter- 
 tained of them, still, carried away by the 
 grand looks of some colt, or of a strain 
 of blood that they peculiarly fancy, they 
 take one more ticket in Fortune's wheel, 
 only to find once more that, —
 
 230 Long Odds. 
 
 ' Legs are not steel, and steel is bent ; 
 Legs are not rocks, and rocks are rent,' 
 
 and that the high price purchase suc- 
 cumbs to the exigencies of training. 
 
 The sale of the late Richard Bram- 
 ton's horses was not calculated to attract 
 undue attention. Good, useful horses 
 they were, and likely to sell well ; but 
 everybody knew that * the pick of the 
 basket,' Damocles, was not to be put 
 up. That Lucifer also was reserved 
 was noticed only by a few old hands. 
 The colt had never run, and therefore 
 was almost unknown by name to the 
 racegoers ; but amongst the few people 
 whose attention it did attract were Lord 
 Ranksborow, Mr James Noel, and Mr 
 Simon Napper. For the first time since 
 that memorable visit to Epsom in his 
 youth, John Bramton had been fairly 
 goaded into appearing on a racecourse. 
 He had no idea of being present at New- 
 market, or indeed any other race meet- 
 ing, but the feminine pressure brought 
 to bear had proved too strong for him.
 
 The July Stakes. 231 
 
 In spite of his first curt refusal, accom- 
 panied by the comments that he had 
 never heard such preposterous nonsense, 
 and that Newmarket was no place for 
 ladies, Mrs Bramton and her daughters 
 returned again and again to the charge. 
 Those comments of John Bramton had 
 been injudicious. He had advanced 
 reasons for his refusal, which, as Lord 
 Chancellor Thurloe said, ' you should 
 never do.' It was speedily proved to 
 him, on the testimony of the Ladies 
 Cuxwold, that there was nothing at all 
 preposterous in the idea, that ladies did 
 go to Newmarket, and that very jolly 
 it was. 
 
 'Quite lovely!' said Lady Emily. 
 'Just a sailor hat and a muslin dress; 
 and you take a big hamper in the carri- 
 age, and picnic on the grass ; and you can 
 get about, and haven't all the horrid crowd 
 of Ascot. I only wish papa would take 
 us ; but he says he can't afford a cottage 
 this year.' 
 
 Supported by these authorities, Mrs
 
 232 Long Odds. 
 
 Bramton and her daughters gave the head 
 of the house no peace. He felt that he 
 would have to yield. Mrs Bramton and 
 the girls usually carried their point at 
 last, and, therefore, John Bramton felt 
 he might as well give in as prolong the 
 struggle. Added to which, Lucy pri- 
 vately urged that she ought to be allowed 
 to see her own horses run, more especially 
 as she was in a position, as she said, ' to 
 pay for the lark.' So it had been resolved 
 that the whole party were to make their 
 racing ddbut on the Heath, under the 
 auspices of Lord Ranksborow. 
 
 One trifling difficulty had presented it- 
 self In the first instance. Lord Ranks- 
 borow had suggested a hack to Mr 
 Bramton, but about this the master of 
 Temple Rising was very positive. If 
 it were not possible to see horse-racing 
 except by getting on a horse, then he 
 would contrive to do without that sight. 
 
 The Earl laughed, and speedily re- 
 assured him, and said, ' that, upon the 
 whole, a good roomy carriage would pro-
 
 The Jttly Stakes. 233 
 
 bably suit the whole party much better,' and 
 re-assured for the present about Damocles, 
 the Earl promised to act as a mentor in 
 some sort, to see that their carriage was 
 placed in a proper position, etc., and 
 cordially accepted an invitation to come 
 and pick a bit with them at luncheon 
 time. 
 
 A favourite expression of Mr Bramton's 
 was, ' I never go in for things by halves ; ' 
 and, now, having gone in for racing, he 
 was determined to act up to his favourite 
 maxim. He sent down a roomy barouche 
 and a pair of job-horses from London, 
 and as for hampers, their size and number 
 gave the idea that Bramton contemplated 
 asking half the Heath to lunch with him. 
 He really was of a hospitable disposition, 
 but this result was principally due to the 
 absurd idea he had conceived of his own 
 importance as the soi-disant owner of 
 Damocles. He really did conceive that 
 many of the leading patrons of the turf 
 desired to make his acquaintance, and 
 would probably have expected to be at
 
 2 34 Long Odds. 
 
 once elected a member of the Jockey 
 Club, had he remembered that such a 
 body existed. His neighbours at Temple 
 Risinor had a little fostered this idea. 
 
 o 
 
 He ignored the well-known axiom, ' You 
 may be a big man in the country, 
 and a very small one in the metropolis.^ 
 Newmarket is the metropolis of the 
 turf. 
 
 The Miss Bramtons experienced much 
 difficulty in restraining their father in the 
 matter of dress. True to his great prin- 
 ciple of not going in for things by halves, 
 Mr Bramton was excessively anxious to 
 attire himself as a genuine racing man. 
 How these arrayed themselves he did not 
 know, but his own idea was evolved from 
 his inner consciousness and a hazy re- 
 collection of the Hill at Espom, and, but 
 for the control of his daughters, John 
 Bramton's get-up would have been very 
 striking. He had doubts as to whether 
 top-boots were not a sine qua iiori for a 
 professed owner of racehorses, but this 
 was finally compromised for a pair of
 
 The Jtdy Stakes. 235 
 
 extremely tight-fitting, horsey-looking cord 
 trousers and a white hat, which the girls 
 felt it was useless to combat, and, besides, 
 there was nothing remarkable in that, 
 but a dust -coloured coat of very pro- 
 nounced colour was the occasion of a long 
 struggle, eventually terminating in the 
 defeat of Matilda and Lucy. Mr B ram- 
 ton vowed he would go to Newmarket 
 in that salmon-tinted garment, or he 
 would not go at all ; and, thus attired, 
 armed with a Brobdignagian pair of race 
 glasses, made his first appearance on 
 Newmarket Heath. 
 
 Mr Bramton was not a little dis- 
 appointed at the aspect of Newmarket. 
 True to that one racing reminiscence of 
 his juvenile days, he had pictured to him- 
 self all the knock-'em-downs, cocoa-nuts, 
 nigger minstrels, and the other eccentric 
 artists that swarm about the Hill at 
 Epsom. The absence of this element 
 depressed him. 
 
 ' Aristocratic, my dears ! ' he exclaimed ; 
 ' but don't you think it's just a Icctlc dull ?
 
 236 Long Odds. 
 
 And if these are the swells, all I can say- 
 is they don't dress up to the mark.' 
 
 And here Mr Bramton pulled up his 
 shirt-collar, as much as to say that he, 
 at all events, was not liable to that 
 accusation. 
 
 ' That flame-coloured garment of papa's 
 will be our ruin ! ' whispered Miss Matilda 
 to her sister. ' What a happy thought 
 that was of yours, Lucy, about the gloves.' 
 
 Lucy had ingeniously kidnapped a very 
 bright-coloured pair of gloves that her 
 father had elected to wear at the last 
 m.oment, substituting a more sombre-hued 
 pair in their place. 
 
 And now the horses go leisurely down 
 to the post for the Julys. 
 
 ' Oh ! papa,' exclaimed Matilda, * what a 
 hideous jacket yours is ! You really must 
 change it.' 
 
 Once more did Lucy, thoroughly agree- 
 ing with her sister on this point, inwardly 
 vow that next year should see Damocles 
 run in prettier colours. 
 
 But the babel of the ring is stilled, the
 
 The July Stakes. 237 
 
 flag falls, and the field are away for the 
 Julys. Hardly a sound breaks the soft 
 summer air, and every eye is strained 
 upon that cluster of gay jackets so rapidly 
 nearing the spectators. The thud of the 
 advancing hoofs now falls distinctly on the 
 ear, followed by the cry of ' Prize-fighter 
 wins ! ' * Harlequin wins ! ' Mr Bramton 
 feels his head turnino^. He is fumbline 
 with his glasses, and^ has lost sight of 
 the horses, when suddenly rings through 
 the air the clear, distinct tones of Lord 
 Ranksborow, — 
 
 ' A hundred to ten on Damocles 1 
 Damocles wins ! — wins in a canter ! ' 
 
 A couple of minutes more, up goes 
 the number, and it is evident the Earl's 
 verdict has been confirmed. 
 
 * Let me congratulate you, Mr Bram- 
 ton,' said Lord Ranksborow, as he raised 
 his hat and reined up his horse by the side 
 of the carriage. ' I don't know what the 
 judge's verdict may be, but I'm quite con- 
 vinced that your horse won easily. I am 
 going to take the liberty of asking you to
 
 2^S Long Odds. 
 
 give an old friend of mine some lunch. 
 Let me introduce you to Mr Flood.' 
 
 Alec raised his hat, while a little hand 
 was extended from the carriage to him, 
 and Lucy exclaimed, — 
 
 ' Mr Flood and I are old acquaintances. 
 I trust you recollect me ? ' 
 
 ' Not likely that I should forget you, 
 Miss Bramton,' replied Alec, as he shook 
 hands. ' I have often wondered whether 
 we should meet again, and little thought it 
 would be here. I don't very often trouble 
 a racecourse, though I might have known 
 it was not an unlikely place to meet you.' 
 
 She could hardly have explained why, 
 but Lucy felt a little nettled at this re- 
 mark ; and yet she had been dying to pay 
 this visit to Newmarket. Her horse was 
 successful, and everything promised to 
 make the day coulettr de rose. She 
 wanted to meet Flood, but she was con- 
 scious that she would rather have met 
 him anywhere else. 
 
 * There you are wrong,' replied Lucy. 
 * I have never been on a racecourse be-
 
 The July Stakes. 239 
 
 fore, and \{ it hadn't been for my poor 
 uncle's death, should probably have not 
 been here now ; but Damocles, you know, 
 was his horse, and we were all anxious to 
 see him win just once.' 
 
 ' Of course ; I understand now. By the 
 way, I remember hearing that the stud 
 became your father's property. I must 
 congratulate you, Mr Bramton.' 
 
 ' Very good of you, I'm sure. Yes ; 
 they tell me that horse of mine is a regular 
 *' sneezer." At all events, he keeps win- 
 ning, which is satisfactory. But just give 
 your horse to one of the men there to 
 hold, and come up on the box and have 
 some lunch.' 
 
 ' Don't you think, Mr Flood, we have 
 the most hideous jacket there is re- 
 gistered ? Papa, you really must change 
 it.' 
 
 * Good heavens ! don't be so rash, Miss 
 Bramton,' cried Lord Ranksborow. ' You 
 can't do more than win. Any old race- 
 goer will tell you, as I do, that to change 
 your jacket is to change your luck.'
 
 240 Long Odds. 
 
 ' Poor Uncle Dick used to say that 
 they might not be pretty, that wasn't in 
 his way ; what he hked about them was 
 that they were good to see.' 
 
 ' Ridiculous ! ' exclaimed John Bramton. 
 ' Here am I, with a spic-span new pair of 
 Voigtlanders glasses, and I'm blessed if 
 I could ever see 'em at any part of the 
 race.' 
 
 ' There is a little knack in distinguish- 
 ing colours through a race-glass,' said 
 Ranksborow ; ' you will soon get into it. 
 And now, Mr Bramton, you must come 
 with me, and walk across and say some- 
 thing pretty to Stubber. Quite the 
 correct thing, I assure you, and I must 
 say he has done your colt every justice.' 
 
 ' Oh ! well,' said Mr Bramton, ' I shall 
 be only too happy, if it's the correct thing. 
 I'm always anxious to do the correct thing, 
 your lordship.' 
 
 The Earl had given his hack over to his 
 eroom while he made his modest lunch 
 at the Bramtons' carriage. Making a sign 
 to the lad to follow him, he and his en-
 
 TJie July Stakes. 241 
 
 tertalner now walked off in search of the 
 trainer, upon meeting whom Mr Bramton 
 was destined to be still further aston- 
 ished. Lord Ranksborow shook hands 
 with Stubber, congratulated him upon 
 landing the Julys, and complimented him 
 upon the condition of his horse, winding 
 up by saying, — 
 
 * I have brought Mr Bramton to talk 
 to you.' 
 
 * Hope you're satisfied, sir,' said Stubber, 
 as he touched his hat. 
 
 ' It's the correct thing to be affable ; 
 all the swells do it, I see,' muttered Mr 
 Bramton, sotto voce, * so here goes. How 
 d'ye do, Stubber } Very glad to see you, 
 Stubber. You do Damocles great credit, 
 or Damocles does you, which is it ? 'Pon 
 my word, I don't know ; but if you'll just 
 come across to my carriage we'll have a 
 glass of champagne over this.' 
 
 ' Yes, and a right good glass, too,' 
 chimed in the Earl. ' You ought to 
 drink Mr Bramton's health on his first 
 appearance on the Heath,' and with these 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 242 Long Odds, 
 
 words the Earl signalled to his groom 
 to bring up his hack, and left Mr 
 Bramton and his trainer to celebrate 
 their victory. 
 
 ' Have you heard lately from Captain 
 Cuxwold ? ' asked Lucy, as her father and 
 Lord Ranksborow left the carriage. 
 
 ' Not very lately,' replied Flood. ' But 
 why don't you apply to headquarters ? ' 
 and Alec jerked his head in the direc- 
 tion of the retreating Earl. 
 
 ' I was wondering only the other day,' 
 replied Lucy, ' whether he was connected 
 with the Ranksborow family.' 
 
 * Pretty closely,' rejoined Flood, laugh- 
 ing ; ' he is a son. I wonder you didn't 
 guess that long ago. Surely you knew 
 he was the Honourable Captain Cuxwold, 
 at Cairo ? ' 
 
 * No,' replied Lucy. ' I only knew that 
 he was Captain Cuxwold ; then, again, we 
 have only known Lord Ranksborow and 
 his family quite lately, and I must plead 
 guilty to being supremely ignorant about 
 the peerage. It was . only the other day
 
 The July Stakes. 243 
 
 that I knew Lord Ranksborow's family 
 name. But you have not answered my 
 question ? ' 
 
 ' I heard from Jack not long ago. Of 
 course you know he was up with Sir 
 Gerald Graham at Suakim, and you must 
 have read in the papers what the fight- 
 ing was like up there.' 
 
 ' Terrible,' rejoined Lucy ; ' but I had 
 no idea Captain Cuxwold was in the midst 
 of all that carnage.' 
 
 * Yes ; it was pretty hard fighting. 
 These Arabs are splendid fellows, and 
 fight like wild cats ; but they are likely 
 to see plenty more of it before all is over. 
 We've sent Gordon to Khartoum, and 
 he is besieged there. We are in honour 
 bound to go to his relief, and, what's 
 more, the outcry in the country is getting 
 so strong that Government cannot put 
 off sending an expedition much longer. 
 It doesn't much matter where they start 
 from, but there'll be bitter fighting in the 
 desert between that and Khartoum. But 
 see, they are going down for another race.
 
 244 Long Odds. 
 
 Do you take much interest in this sort of 
 thing ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, I do,' she repHed, as she stood 
 up in the carriage, with flushed cheeks 
 and sparkHng eyes, though how she could 
 look so excited, considering how little she 
 knew about it, was singular. It is possible 
 she was thinking more about the perils of 
 the Soudan than the mimic warfare of the 
 racecourse. ^ How I do wish we had a 
 horse of our own running in this.' 
 
 Alec Flood had never been suspected 
 of taking any very great interest in turf 
 matters, but this afternoon he spent 
 watching the racing closely from the box 
 of the Bramtons' carriage. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 COI.STON AND COMPANY, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.
 
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 ^.w-^^<et^y 
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF ILUNOIS-URBANA 
 
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