“Yes!” exclaimed both together. “What could that mean?”
“A slight bit of a scrimmage we had on the way from town; a—”
“Mr. Kennyfeck engaged in a row!” cried Softly, almost incredible at the tidings.
“Yes. I fancy that is about the best word for it,” said Cashel, sipping his wine. “I suppose one ought not to mention these kind of things; but of course they are safe with you. They 'll never go further, I am certain.”
“Oh, never,—not a syllable,” chimed in the two.
“Well, then, on our way here, I learned that there were to be races a few miles from Coventry, and as I saw our friend Kennyfeck had no fancy for the sight, I just slipped a few half-crowns into the postboy's hand, and told him to drive there instead of taking the Liverpool road. Away we went at a good pace, and in less than an hour reached the course. I wish you saw the old gentleman's face when he awoke from a sound nap, and saw the grand stand, with its thousand faces, all in a row, and the cords, the betting-ring, and the whole circumstance of a race-ground. By good luck, too, the sharp jerk of our pull-up smashed a spring, and so we had nothing for it but to leave the chaise and wait till it could be repaired. While my servant was away in search of some kind of a drag or other, to go about the field,—there was no walking, what with the crowd and the press of horses, not to speak of the mud that rose over the ankles,—we pushed on,—that is, I did, with a stout grip of Kennyfeck's arm, lest he should escape,—we pushed on, into the ring. Here there was rare fun going forward, every fellow screaming out his bets, and booking them as fast as he could. At first, of course, the whole was all ancient Greek to me. I neither knew what they meant by the 'favorite,' or 'the odds,' or 'the field;' but one somehow always can pick up a thing quickly, if it be but 'game,' and so, by watching here, and listening there, I managed to get a kind of inkling of the whole affair, and by dint of some pushing and elbowing, I reached the very centre of the ring, where the great dons of the course were betting together.
“'Taurus even against the field,' cried one.
“'Taurus against the field,' shouted another.
“And this same cry was heard on every side.
“'Give it in fifties,—hundreds if you like better,' said a young fellow mounted on a smart-looking pony, to his friend, who appeared to reflect on the offer. 'Come, hurry on, man. Let's have a bet, just to give one an interest in the race.' The other shook his head, and the first went on, 'What a slow set, to be sure! Is no one willing to back the field, even? Come, then, here 's a hundred pound to any man who 'll take the field against Taurus, for two thousand.'