"I'll have it," answered Alan; and the bookmaker said, "at a hundred to eight."
"That's a fair price," said Alan.
"Will he win, Mr. Chesney?"
"He has a real good chance, Peet," replied Alan.
The horses disappeared over the brow of the hill, cantered down the slope, and ranged behind the barrier, with the trees for a background. It was a beautiful line of color as seen from the top of the stands.
CHAPTER XII
A FINE FINISH
The big field got away in an almost unbroken line, a splendid start; a loud shout proclaimed the race had commenced. For a few minutes they disappeared, then as they came up the rise the caps appeared over the brow of the hill, and in a couple of seconds the thirty horses were in full view, stretched across the wide course, advancing like a cavalry charge.
A wonderful race the Royal Hunt Cup, a beautiful sight. It has been described scores of times and no description exaggerates its charm. The course is grand, the surroundings picturesque; historical associations cling to the famous heath, where kings and princes, lords and commoners, have assembled year after year, and royal processions have come up the course amid the enthusiastic plaudits of vast crowds. Truly the sport of racing is the sport of kings, and no less of a huge majority of the people.
Bernard Hallam and Valentine Braund acknowledged its charm. There was nothing quite like it anywhere, one of the racing sights of the world, different from Epsom on Derby Day, Doncaster on Leger Day, or glorious Goodwood, unique in its way; no such gathering can be seen in any other country.