"You too, then, believe in Figaro?" asked Parkington.
"I do," she said; "six pistoles at three to one, five pistoles at two to one, and two pistoles at even odds—it will keep me in spending money for a few weeks."
"Or make you without spending money for a month."
"I shall not lose," she said; "I shall not lose.... Ah, Mr. Maynadier, do you know Sir Edward Parkington?"
Maynadier turned, and, for a moment his eyes rested on Sir Edward with an uncertain and hesitating recognition. Then, he shook his head.
"I do not know," he said. "There is something familiar in his face, yet I can not say. I met so many people in London, at one time, that it is difficult to remember. I trust Sir Edward Parkington will understand. But whether or not we have ever met before, I am very glad to meet him now."
"I think you are right," said Sir Edward, taking Maynadier's hand; "or, at least, if we met, I have no recollection of it. Indeed, I have no recollection of having met any one from Annapolis—much, as I see now, to my loss."
"The horses are at the post!" exclaimed Miss Stirling, and each was glad for a moment of respite.
This time, Figaro showed his blood. They ran easily enough, and together, but any one could see that the others had shot their bolts. In the last hundred yards, the red and white of Dr. Hammond went to the front and won handily.