For a few minutes St. Josephs had been in earnest conversation with one of the "jackeens," who earlier in the day, might have been seen taking counsel of Mr. Sullivan.
"I've marked your card for you, Miss Douglas," said the General. "I've the best information from my friend here, and the winner ought to be one of these four—Leprauchan, Shaneen, St. George, or Satanella. The English horse for choice if he can keep on his legs."
"I must have a bet on Satanella," exclaimed Miss Douglas irrepressibly, whereat the General looked grave, and Norah gave her an approving pat on the hand. "Send somebody into the ring, General, to find out her price, and back her for ten pounds at evens, if they can't do better, on my behalf."
"I'd like to share your wager," said Norah kindling.
"And so you shall, dear," replied Miss Douglas. "You and I, at any rate, want him to win, poor fellow; and good wishes will do him no harm."
"Here he comes!" replied Norah; and while she spoke, Satanella was seen trotting leisurely down the course, snorting, playing with her bit, and bending to acknowledge the caresses Daisy lavished on her beautiful neck with no sparing hand.
The mare looked as fine as a star. Trained to perfection, her skin shining like satin, her muscles salient, her ribs just visible, her action, though she trotted with rather a straight knee, stealthy, cat-like, and as if she went upon wires.
It is the first quality of a rider to adapt himself easily to every movement of the animal he bestrides, but this excellence of horsemanship is much enhanced when the pair have completed their preparation together, and the man has acquired his condition, morning after morning, in training walks and gallops on the beast. This was Daisy's case. Satanella, to a sensitive mouth, added a peculiar and irritable temper. Another hand on her rein for an hour would undo the work of days. Nobody had therefore ridden her for weeks but himself, and when the two went down the course at Punchestown together, they seemed like some skilful piece of mechanism, through which one master-spring set all parts in motion at once.
"He's an illigant rider," groaned Mr. Sullivan, who stood to win on Leprauchan. "An' 'a give-and-take horseman's' the pick of the world when there's leps. But it's not likely now they'd all stand up in such a 'rookawn,'"[4] he added, "an' why wouldn't the Captain get throw'd down with the rest?"