Although by my desire this second match was fixed for an early hour of the morning to keep away loafers, the affair had got wind, and to my intense annoyance there were hundreds of spectators. The English colony was present to a man, that officious ass the reporter of the Journal du Nord was there, busy with his pencil, an expatriated bookmaker was fully occupied in taking the odds—they laid 2 to 1 on Clotilde—and Monsieur H—— 's friends mustered in great force. An even start was effected at the first time of asking; for three parts of the journey I contented myself with racing side by side with my opponent, but when the last quarter of a mile was reached, I gave my horse his head. He instantly took advantage of his freedom, and carried me past the judge about ten lengths in front of Clotilde. The only trouble I had in the race was to hold back my horse, who almost pulled my arms out of their sockets. Perfidious Albion had regained her prestige, and my winnings were not to be despised.
"What the deuce have you got there?" asked an English officer, after the race.
"Only a winner of the Two Thousand," was my somewhat astonishing but truthful answer.
My friend Clarence offered me for choice two horses, the second in the Cesarewitch and a winner of the Two Thousand Guineas, and I selected the latter.
CHAPTER XIV.
UNFORTUNATE POSTAGE-STAMP.
A street acquaintance— The fascinating widow—Fatal marriage—Marrying another man's wife—A question of damages—Lucky hit at Ascot.
"Do you know that you have married my wife?"
This somewhat extraordinary piece of intelligence was communicated to my friend Alfred Drummond in his own home about three months after he was married. The person who claimed a prior right to the lady had scamp plainly written on his bloated features, and he looked all over a man who lived by his wits. I thought it an ill-advised union from the first, but when I ventured on a word of warning, I was immediately put down as an old croaker, so I determined to let the wilful man have his own way. The lady was certainly beautiful in that voluptuous sense so much admired by painters of the Dutch school, but I was not taken with her. There was a shiftiness about her glance not pleasant to see either in horse or human being. Although I drank to their happiness in Irroy on that fatal wedding day, I was never sanguine of the result, but by the utmost stretch of my imagination I could not have foreseen the deplorable consequences. The marriage totally wrecked my friend's life, and all but ruined me.