The train of horses trotted out of their range of vision, and disappeared from view on another section of the circle.
“Is there time to lunch before the great race?” inquired Dick, with a hungry glance at the hampers.
“No, sir; they start in fifteen minutes,” answered Tredegar.
Those fifteen minutes passed in silent waiting. Fortune-telling, small-trading, ballad-singing, eating and drinking—all were suspended until the trial upon which such immense stakes were laid should be over. It was a holiday,—a festival; yet the hush that preceded the great event of the day, was like the awful pause before an execution.
“At length the spell was broken. The word went forth:
“They’re starting!”
Three hundred thousand people were on their feet in an instant.
“They’re coming!”
Field-glasses were raised and necks were stretched, and eyes were strained.
“Here they are! Here they are!”