“Not so fast, my Lord,” he said, insolently; “I consider that you’ve insulted me by the terms in which you have just spoken, and I desire you to recall your words.”
An indignant refusal from Lord Alfred apparently exasperated the young blackleg beyond endurance, and raising his horsewhip threateningly, he advanced a step towards his opponent. As he did so, a heavy hand was pressed against his chest, effectually barring his farther progress, while a deep voice said sternly, “Stand back, sir! I should have thought you had been on the turf long enough to recognize a gentleman when you see him, and to know that such persons are not to be bullied, though they may be swindled. Let me give you a word of advice: you will have quite enough on your hands to get out of this morning’s work without some unpleasant exposé. Your associate, Captain O’Brien, seems inclined to be disagreeably communicative—don’t get yourself horsewhipped into the bargain!”
When Coverdale made the reference to O’Brien, Phil Tirrett turned pale, and gnawed his under lip in fruitless anger; but, as he concluded, he got up the steam sufficiently to inquire, with an insolent laugh, “Horsewhipped, eh?—who’s likely to do it, I should like to know?”
“I am,” was Coverdale’s quiet answer. Their eyes met—but Tirrett could not endure Harry’s steadfast gaze; so, favouring him with a most melodramatic scowl of hatred, he slunk away through the crowd. After much angry altercation, Captain O’Brien’s horse was withdrawn—other preliminaries of the race settled—and the time appointed for starting drew nigh, when Captain Annesley lounged up to Lord Alfred Courtland, and, twisting his moustaches, drawled out, “Haw! ar ’spose yur ’ware m’lord that—haw—tha’re all gentlemen riders?—eh! yur friend comes under that denomination, ’spose, haw?”
“When the officers of the ——th chose me as umpire about a disputed stroke at billiards, and I decided in favour of one Cornet Annesley, he did not object to the verdict on the score of my position,” returned Coverdale, with quiet self-possession; upon which the captain muttered—
“Hey, haw, Mr. Coverdale, aw think—arm sor davlish shortsighted—ar reely didn’t recognize yar—haw! beg par’n, reely,” and lounged off considerably discomposed.
After the ceremony of weighing the riders had been satisfactorily performed, and other preliminaries arranged, the bell rang for saddling, and Coverdale, flinging off his wrapper, and removing a pair of leggings which had effectually concealed his top-boots, appeared in full and appropriate racing costume, to Lord Alfred’s intense surprise.
“By Jove!” he exclaimed, as the blue silk racing shirt revealed its glories to his astonished optics—“by Jove! Coverdale, you really are one of the most wonderful fellows I ever came across; why, you were not aware two hours ago that there was a chance of your being required to ride this race, and yet you come togged out in as noble and appropriate garments as if you had been preparing for the last month—it is all a perfect mystery to me!”
“The mystery is easily explained,” returned Harry, laughing at his companion’s puzzled look. “When I left your rooms this morning, the idea of riding for you had already occurred to me; it so happened that I, when last in town, ordered a new pair of hunting breeches and boots of my tailor and boot-maker, which I knew would be ready for me to jump into; the tailor directed me to a masquerade warehouse, where I procured the racing shirt; and I purchased the wrapper and leggings ready made. In the carpet-bag I have a coat, which I could have put on at the stables, had Tirrett chosen, at the last moment, to keep his engagement with you: so you see there’s no magic in the business, after all.”
As he spoke, Don Pasquale, arching his neck, snorting, laying back his ears and pointing them forward alternately, rolling his eyes until the whites were plainly visible, and altogether showing symptoms of a temperament quite unlike that popularly attributed to the genus pet lamb, was led in by Dick and an attendant satellite, at the imminent risk of their respective lives and limbs. As the clothing was removed, Coverdale scrutinized him narrowly without speaking; at length he exclaimed—“He’s a devil, that there’s no mistaking; but he’s a splendid horse: if he’s sound, and it’s at all possible to screw him along, I’ll give you all the money you paid for him, and fifty pounds to the back of that, if you don’t like to part with him under.”