‘Oh, no, Catch, you do not think so; you think you think. Go and take all the odds you can get upon Goshawk. Come, now, to-morrow you will tell me you have a very pretty book. Eh! mon cher Catch?’
‘But do you really think Goshawk will win?’ asked Lord Cathimwhocan, earnestly.
‘Certain!’
‘Well, damned if I don’t go and take the odds,’ said his lordship.
‘Mirabel,’ said a young noble, moving his horse close to the Count, and speaking in a low voice, ‘shall you be at home to-morrow morning?’
‘Certainly. But what do you want?’
‘I am in a devil of a scrape; I do not know what to do. I want you to advise me.’
‘The Count moved aside with this cavalier. ‘And what is it?’ said he. ‘Have you been losing?’
‘No, no,’ said the young man, shaking his head. ‘Much worse. It is the most infernal business; I do not know what I shall do. I think I shall cut my throat.’
‘Bêtise! It cannot be very bad, if it be not money.’