Tales from Blackwood Volume Ii Part 15

"Hadn't you better go home at once?" suggested Randolph. "My horse is beginning to cough."

"Yes--yes!" cried half-a-dozen. "Go home at once."

"And if you are wise," added Hargate, "take a dip in the sea--boots, helmet, pantaloons, and all."

I obtained permission to fall out, and retired in a state of inconceivable disgust. Towards the carriage where Edith was seated I dared not go; and with a big and throbbing heart I recollected that she had witnessed my disgrace.

"But she shall yet see," I mentally exclaimed, "that I am worthy of her!

Once let me cast this foul and filthy slough--let me don her favourite colours--let me win the prize, as I am sure I ought to do, and the treasure of her heart may be mine!--You young villain! if you make faces at me again, I shall fetch you a cut over the costard!"

"Soor dook!" shouted the varlet. "Eh! see till the man that's been coupit ower in the glaur!"

I rode home as rapidly as possible. I throw a veil over the triumphant e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns of Nelly at the sight of my ruined uniform, and the personal allusions she made to the retreat and discomfiture of the Philistines. That evening I avoided mess, and courted a sound sleep to prepare me for the fatigues of the ensuing day.

CHAPTER V.

"Here is a true, correct, and particular account, of the n.o.blemen, gentlemen, and yeomen's horses, that is to run this day over the course of Musselburgh, with the names, weights, and liveries of the riders, and the same of the horses themselves!"

Such were the cries that saluted me, as next day I rode up to the race-course of Musselburgh. I purchased a card, which, among other entries, contained the following:--

EDINBURGH SQUADRON CUP, 12 STONE.

Mr A. CHAFFINCH'S br. g. GROGGYBOY--_Green and White Cap_.

Mr RANDOLPH ns. b. g. CAPSIc.u.m--_Geranium and French Grey_.

Mr M'WHIRTER'S bl. g. MASANIELLO--_Peach-blossom and Scarlet_.

Mr HARGATE ns. ch. m. LOUPOWERHER--_Fawn and Black Cap_.

Mr POUNSET'S b. m. MISS FROLIC--_Orange and Blue_.

Mr SHAKERLEY ns. b. g. SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION--_White body and Liver-coloured Sleeves_.

I made my way to the stand. Miss Bogle and Mary Muggerland were there, but so also was the eternal Roper.

"Ah, M'Whirter!" said the latter. "How do you feel yourself this morning? None the worse of your tumble yesterday, I hope? Mere accident, you know. Spiwited cweature Masaniello, it must be confessed. 'Gad, if you can make him go the pace as well to-day, you'll distance the whole of the rest of them."

"Oh, Mr M'Whirter! I'm _so_ glad to see you!" said Edith. "How funny you looked yesterday when you were running away! Do you know that I waved my handkerchief to you as you pa.s.sed, but you were not polite enough to take any notice?"

"Indeed, Miss Bogle, I had something else to think of at that particular moment."

"You were _not_ thinking about me, then?" said Edith. "Well, I can't call that a very gallant speech."

"I'll lay an even bet," said Roper, "that you were thinking more about the surgeon."

"Were you ever wounded, Mr Roper?" said I.

"Once--in the heart, and incurably," replied the c.o.xcomb, with a glance at Edith.

"Pshaw! because, if you had been, you would scarce have ventured to select the surgeon as the subject of a joke. But I forgot. These are times of peace."

"When men of peace become soldiers," retorted Roper.

"I declare you are very silly!" cried Edith; "and I have a good mind to send both of you away."

"Death rather than banishment!" said Roper.

"Well, then, do be quiet! I take _such_ an interest in your race, Mr M'Whirter. Do you know I have two pairs of gloves upon it? So you must absolutely contrive to win. By the way, what are your colours?"

"Peach-blossom and scarlet."

"How very gallant! I take it quite as a compliment to myself."

"M'Whirter! you're wanted," cried a voice from below.

"Bless me! I suppose it is time for saddling. Farewell, Edith--farewell, Mary! I shall win if I possibly can."

"Good-by!" said Roper. "Stick on tightly and screw him up, and there's no fear of Masaniello."

"Where the deuce have you been, M'Whirter?" said Randolph. "Get into the scales as fast as you can. You've been keeping the whole of us waiting."

"I'll back Masaniello against the field at two to one," said Anthony Whaup.

"Done with you, in ponies," said Patsey Chaffinch, who was a.s.sisting his brother from the scales.

"Do you feel nervous, M'Whirter?" asked Hosier, a friend who was backing me rather heavily. "You look a little white in the face."

"To tell you the truth--I do."

"That's awkward. Had you not better take a gla.s.s of brandy?"

"Not a bad idea;" and I took it.

"That's right. Now canter him about a little, and you'll soon get used to it."

I shall carefully avoid having any future occasion to make use of my dear-bought experience. I felt remarkably sheepish as I rode out upon the course, and heard the observations of the crowd.

"And wha's yon in the saumon-coloured jacket?"

"It'll be him they ca' Chaffinch."

"Na, man--yon chield wad make twa o' Chaffinch. He's but a feather-wecht o' a cratur."

"Wow, Jess! but that's a bonnie horse!"

"Bonnier than the man that's on it, ony how."

"Think ye that's the beast they ca' Masonyellow?"

"I'm thinkin' sae. That man can ride nane. He's nae grupp wi' his thees."

These were the kind of remarks that met my ears as I paced along, nor, as I must confess, was I particularly elated thereby. Pounset now rode up.