‘You was there, Jerry,’ his neighbour observed.
‘There I was, for sure. And there was Maister Dick with his horse Goggles that he was ready to back agin anything on four legs. It were a sight, I tell you. Nine on ’em started, and Goggles took the lead right away’—here old Jerry, with the stem of his pipe serving as a pencil, began to trace on the table the imaginary lines of the course—‘he cleared the water-jump pretty, and maybe half a dozen came after. On the flat they was nigh equal, but—Lor’ bless you—Goggles was only laughin’ at ’em. He knowed as he could get away as soon as the Maister pleased to give him head. They was a’most abreast when they came near the ugly fence down by Farmer Tubbs’s land. Then Goggles got his way. He were as brave as a lion—or a unicorn, for the matter o’ that—and he took the fence at the nighest but the worst part. We see him rise in the air as it might be, and dip again. Then—well, then, if he didn’t roll right over, and Maister Dick turned a somersault into the ditch.’
There Jerry would stop again in order that his listeners might realise the full horror of the position, emitting half-a-dozen deliberate puffs of smoke from his mouth, and proceed with the pride of a bearer of good news.
‘But the Maister was on his feet again afore you could count your fingers. So was Goggles. The Maister give him a pat on the neck and, says he: “If you can do it Goggles, I’m game.” With that he jumps into the saddle and went tearin’ after them as was proud to think that he was out o’ the chase, and he caught ’em up, and when they were about a quarter of a mile from home, Goggles put on an extra spurt and came in first by a neck. But that weren’t the end on it, for while everybody was a-crowdin’ round about him, Dr Mauldon says:
‘“What’s the matter with your right arm, Dick, that it’s hangin’ so limp-like at your side?”
‘“Dunno what it may be,” says Dick; “but it’s been no use to me since we tumbled over the fence.”
‘“Broken, sure-ly,” says the doctor angry-like, “and you went on riding the race—you’re a fool.”
‘“But I won it,” says Dick, “and I’m main proud on it, for there’s summat more nor the cup hanging on to Goggles this blessed day.”
‘Six months after that steeplechase, he married Hesba Loughton,’ the old man concluded with subdued but suggestive emphasis.
From that day the homestead of Willowmere had been a merry one, notwithstanding the dark shadows which had from time to time crossed it. Three children had been born, but one by one had passed away, leaving a blank in the lives of mother and father which nothing could fill. But it made them the more ready to welcome the child of Mrs Crawshay’s sister when misfortune fell upon her. Madge had been at once taken into their hearts as their own child, and had grown up with as much love and respect for them as she could have given to her parents proper.