"Then I will press you no farther; but I am ready to serve you at any time, don't forget that."
Meantime they had emerged from between the houses; before them on the boundless expanse of meadow-land was the race-course, with its tall stands, its little city of booths and tents, its long rows of carriages drawn up side by side, its dark crowd of curious spectators. A party of horsemen dashed past them at a furious gallop; one of them, not without difficulty, checked his foaming racer and came to the carriage door.
"What, Plüggen, are you not with the others?" cried the Prince.
"Paid the forfeit at the last minute, Your Highness, at the last minute--too certain it would turn out to-day as it did at the Derby, four years ago. Once in--ah! Gotthold, bon jour, bon jour! Your friend Brandow's doing a splendid business to-day, an infernally splendid business."
"How far away are they, then? Am I too late?"
"God forbid, your Highness! That is, they must be here in ten minutes. Just up to the last obstacle but one; everybody there--intense excitement. Exactly as it was at the Derby four years ago, when Hurry-Harry by Robin Hood out of Drury Lane--"
"Then we won't detain you, Plüggen. Au revoir until this evening; drive on."
Gustav von Plüggen, with rather a long face, touched his hat, turned his horse, and dashed after his companions.
"So you know this Brandow?" asked the Prince. "It's a pity about that man; he would have had, I think, the material for a splendid general of cavalry; a clear head, a keen eye, never at a loss, and withal brave even to foolhardiness; but amid these tame plebeian surroundings he will make, I fear, nothing better than a mauvais sujet. But it is shameful that they took the piece of bog into the course on purpose to injure him. I hear it was only done to give the other horses a chance, since it is generally believed that a horse of Brownlock's weight cannot cross a swamp."
"He will cross it, Your Highness," said Gotthold, "you can bet a million on it."