"He is really going there," said M. de Cernay. "He often takes the notion of speaking on some political question which pleases him, and which he always treats with unquestionable authority; but he so detests both London and England that he leaves his carriage at Westminster, takes his seat, makes his speech, gets into his carriage, and returns to Paris."
Lord Falmouth just then returned. He was gracious enough to ask me to call on him at some future time. His courier started off, and he got up into his carriage.
"The race is to come off at two o'clock," said M. de Cernay. "The weather is superb. I have sent my horses around to the Porte Dauphine; if you would like to take a turn in the Bois, I have a horse that is at your service."
"Many thanks," said I, "I have sent my horses there, too. But will this race be an interesting one?"
"It is, unfortunately, only too interesting: two miles to run, three hedges four and a half feet high, and, to finish, a barrier fixed at five feet to leap over."
"That is impossible!" I cried out. "For finish a barrier five feet high! But there are not two horses out of a hundred that could take such a leap, with any degree of certainty, after such a race; and if the horse should fail to take the bar, the rider would be instantly killed."
"That is just it," said the count, with a sigh. "I am in despair at having been chosen judge, or rather witness, of this deadly challenge which may cost the life of one or both of these brave gentlemen, perhaps both, but it was absolutely impossible to refuse."
"What do you mean by that?" said I to M. de Cernay.
"Oh," replied he, "it is quite a romance and a secret as sad as it is incredible; but I can tell you about it now, for if for certain reasons no one has yet been told of it, in an hour from now, on beholding the last terrible obstacle in this race, which is undertaken through a pretext, every one will see what is really a duel between the two young riders, and will easily guess the cause and the object."
I tried to read in M. de Cernay's face whether or not he was speaking seriously; but if he were joking my penetration was at fault, so much in earnest did he seem to be.