Reassured by this practical proof of his Lordship’s sincerity, the Honourable William (who, in spite of his innate honourableness, was rather a “leg” than otherwise), hastily muttered “that he’d a very safe book as it stood, and that if the Don was all serene, he had no wish to alter it,” and returned to reap some advantage from the information he had acquired.
“How did I do that?” asked Lord Alfred, as they cantered off.
“Splendidly!” was the reply; “when all other trades fail you, you’ll be able, with a little of my able tuition, to turn horse-chaunter and blackleg.”
Lord Alfred shook his head, adding, “Only let me get out of this affair safely, and if you find me doing anything in the horse line again, write me down the veriest idiot that ever ran his head, open-eyed, against a brick wall.”
Five minutes’ brisk riding brought them to the gate at which Tirrett had entered on the morning after the Blackwall dinnerparty. As they did so, a horseman left the yard by a hand-gate at the opposite corner. Lord Alfred gazed after him eagerly.
“Who is your mysterious friend?” inquired Harry.
“I can’t be certain,” was the reply, “but the figure, and the way in which he sits his horse, are very like that young scoundrel, Tirrett; I’ve a great mind to gallop after him, and either make him ride for me, or horsewhip him;” and Lord Alfred looked quite fierce and determined, as if he meant to do as he said, and was able; but Coverdale, smiling at his energy, restrained him—
“Gently there—take it coolly! why, you’re becoming quite a fire-eater,” he said, laughing; “but, seriously, if you could make him ride for you against his will, he would only contrive to lose you the race. And, as to horsewhipping, if you were to horsewhip every blackleg who breaks down with you in turf affairs, you’d require a portable thrashing-machine, for mortal arm could never stand it.”
As he spoke, they reached the stable, dismounted, and, tying their horses up to a couple of rings in the wall, Lord Alfred drew a key from his pocket, and, applying it to the lock, admitted Harry and himself. So quietly did they enter, and so engrossed was the groom with his occupation, that they had full time to observe him before he was aware of their presence. Fully equipped (with the exception of his coat) for appearing on the race-course, he was stooping over a pail of water bathing his nose, from which the blood was still rapidly dropping. Coverdale glanced expressively at Lord Alfred, then whispered, “Speak to him—I want to see his face.”
“Why, Dick, what is it? have you hurt yourself, my lad?” he inquired, good-naturedly.