They reached the course and took up their position under the hill, the coach being greeted, if anything, by more public interest than the year before. "Old Rory" himself was always an object to attract attention, but, on the present occasion, it was upon Rada that all eyes were fixed.
The girl looked so young, almost a child, and yet it was quite three years since she had registered her colours. The lemon and lavender quartered were already well known and recognised by most race-goers.
Sir Roderick made his traditional little speech very much in the same words as the year before, save that he ended up by wishing good-luck to Castor and to Pollux, and expressed a fervent wish that both horses might win. After that, as was usual, the company dispersed to follow their own pleasures. Captain Armitage alone remained stolidly seated in his place, and he shook his head savagely when the butler, who knew him well and was accustomed to administer to his fancies, handed him up a brimming glass of champagne. Champagne was strictly forbidden; Captain Armitage was allowed a little weak whiskey and water with his meals, and no more. It was with a curse muttered under his breath that he informed the butler of the fact, and requested a little plain soda-water instead.
Pierce stuck close to Rada that morning, though on one occasion he nearly came to high words with Lord Caldershot, who, as soon as the little party had begun to disperse, waited at the foot of the coach for Rada, eager that he should have the honour of conducting her to the paddock.
"There's a horse belonging to a friend of mine running in the first race, Miss Armitage," he drawled, "and I want you to come and have a look at it. You can't do better than back Galahad to win, and a shop. I'll get the money on for you, if you like," he added eagerly.
"Thank you," replied Rada coldly, "but I'm not going to back anything to-day. I've got quite enough interest in the one race. Mr. Trelawny has promised to walk with me to the paddock."
Lord Caldershot drew back, feeling unwarrantably snubbed, and was perforce obliged to continue his attentions to the gushing little damsel who had been his companion on the way down, and whom he regarded as altogether too inexperienced to merit the time which he had wasted upon her.
For the nonce Rada seemed to have lost all her reckless carelessness; she was quiet and subdued, and she went about her work with all the calm self-possession of a woman of the world. She interviewed her jockey and her trainer—old William Treves himself—who had brought Castor to Epsom, and who was prepared to stake his reputation upon the ultimate success of his stable. He would turn up his nose defiantly at all mention of Pollux, and the state of the betting did not influence him in the least any more than did the unbeaten record of Castor's adversary. As the horses paraded in the paddock, he would even point out to his cronies certain fancied defects about Pollux which were visible only to his imagination.
The absence of Mostyn Clithero, the owner of the latter horse, caused some remark, but the story of his accident had got abroad, and sympathy with him was very generally expressed. The reason why "Old Rory" should have disposed of his colt to that remarkably enthusiastic young sportsman was a matter for far greater speculation, and it was estimated that the sum paid by young Clithero must have been enormous.
The most astonishing stories had got abroad as to Mostyn's wealth and as to his desire to win a big race. His name was coupled with that of Rada, and there were many who had evolved a romance out of the rivalry of Castor and Pollux.