Lord Alfred looked—as he was—singularly puzzled, but of the hundreds who were flocking to that race-course, Coverdale was the only man on whom he felt he could rely, and he most willingly placed himself in his hands.
Having insinuated the drag into the most favourable position for beholding from its roof the line of the course, the Hon. Billy Whipcord, having acquitted himself so as to call forth an encomium even from Harry Coverdale, who was a severe critic in such matters, descended from his seat, and, with most of the others, repaired to an extempore betting-ring, composed of all the knowing ones present.
Lord Alfred was about to accompany them, when Harry laid his finger on his arm to detain him.
“What time did you order the Don to be on the ground?”
Lord Alfred referred to his watch.
“He won’t be here for the next half-hour,” was the reply. “It was considered advisable to spare his excitable nerves as much of the noise and bustle as possible.”
“He is at a farm somewhere near, is he not?” continued Coverdale. “I see your saddle-horses on the ground; let us canter down and have a look at him.”
Lord Alfred agreeing, at a signal from his master the packgroom rode up, and resigning his horse to Coverdale, the friends mounted, and were about to ride off in the direction of the farm-house, when the Honourable Billy Whipcord intercepted them with a face expressing the deepest concern.
“My dear Courtland,” he began, “a report has somehow got abroad that Tirrett won’t ride for you, and that Irish blackguard, Captain O’Brien, does not scruple openly to declare that he is to ride Broth-of-a-Boy for him instead; the rumour gains ground every minute, and the Don is going down accordingly; all his best friends are hedging wherever they can get a bet taken. I hope there’s no truth in it.”
Coverdale glanced for a moment towards Lord Alfred, who replied carelessly, “Don’t alarm yourself, my dear fellow, I can hardly suppose even Phil Tirrett would have the face to throw me over and ride for O’Brien; but, if he should indulge in such a caprice, I know my man, and am prepared with a substitute so efficient, that I rather hope your tidings may be true.” Seeing that the Honourable William looked incredulous, he continued, “If you’re inclined to follow the hedging dodge yourself, I’m as willing as ever to back the Don against the field: how do the odds stand?”