“He desired me to inform your lordship that his name was Turnbull,” was the answer.
With an oath at the man’s stupidity, Lord Bellefield desired him to admit the visitor instantly.
“Well, Turnbull,” he exclaimed eagerly as the trainer entered, “what is it, man?”
Thus adjured, Turnbull, a tall, stout-built fellow, with a clever but disagreeable expression of countenance glanced carefully round the room to assure himself that they were alone, and then approaching Lord Bellefield, began, “Why, you see, my lud, I thought I’d better lose no time, for there ain’t too many hours between now and tomorrow’s race, so I jumped on to my ’ack, cantered over to the rail, ’ailed a ’Ansom’s cab, and ’ere I am.”
“Nothing amiss, eh? nothing wrong with the colt?” asked Lord Bellefield with an affectation of indifference, though any one who had watched him closely might have seen that he turned very pale.
“No, bless his eyes, he’s as right as a trivet, and as playful and impudent as—as a brick,” continued Mr. Turnbull, rather at a loss for a sufficiently eulogistic simile; “it was only this morning he took up little Bill the ’elper by the waistband of his indispentionables and shuk him like a tarrier would a rat. It would have done your ludship’s ’art good to have seen him; he’ll come out to-morrow as fresh as paint, bless his bones.”
“Well then, what is it, if Oracle is all right?” returned his employer, greatly relieved.
“Why, unfortunately there’s somebody else as has got a ’orse as is all right too, and I’m afraid we ain’t quite so sure of the race as we fancied we was,” was the dispiriting reply.
“Why, I thought you had satisfied yourself that there was not a horse that could run near him. You tell me he beat Tartuffe carrying 5 lbs. extra weight.”
“Ay, so I believed; but the sharpest of us is done sometimes. It’s a wicked cross-bred world to live in, and a man need be wide-awaker than—than one o’clock, to be down to all their moves.” So saying, the discomfited trainer rubbed his nose as if to brighten his wits, and continued, “The truth is this, my lud—one of my grooms cum to me this morning, and said if I would stand a soveraign between him and one of his mates, he would tell me something as I ought to know. Well, seeing as this race is rather a peculiar one, and as any little mistake might turn out unpleasant——”