London for stealing a poor man’s coppers, but you put a lot of money into any town in England, and this is what you’re likely to get.”
“I think if we were to make this tour at nightfall,” said I, “we would find that the residents of the makeshift dwellings are holding their own insofar as separating a poor man from his coppers.”
“P’rhaps so,” said he. “Are you truly proposing that we make such a tour?”
“No, not really. I believe we can spend our time better in another manner. Mr. Deuteronomy said to me earlier that he would be taking Pegasus out for a run in the early evening if the course is not too crowded. I thought you might like to see him put through his paces.”
“Would I, though! Indeed! Just as soon as the sun goes low in the sky.”
Thus was it agreed. We had by that time looked so long and hard for Alice that I felt not the slightest guilt in temporarily deserting our search.
So it was that at the time suggested by Mr. Patley we made our way down the hill to watch Pegasus’s second run of the day. It would not be long until sundown and, again, not long after that before night fell. All the many against whom I had struggled to return to the Good Queen Bess yesterday in the early afternoon were now returning; and so it was a bit of a battle making our way down to the track whereon I had watched Pegasus through his morning workout.
Yet we arrived in ample time, for, just as we approached, I spied Mr. Bennett aiding Mr. Deuteronomy with a leg up into the saddle.
“Look how well he sits up there!” Mr. Patley exclaimed admiringly.
And it was true. I have not done justice to the rider’s seat upon his mount. Though a small man, as I have described him, one had no doubt that he was in command once he took his place upon Pegasus. It was there in his erect posture, even in the set of his features. A few words to the horse-I would have given anything to know what he said-and they were away. The horse went at a trot and only later increased his pace to a canter-and how beautifully the two of them did move together. The way ahead was clear.
Meanwhile did Bennett retire, ducking beneath the rail, then leaning over it, that he might study horse and man better. He, too, in his way, knew horses as well as Mr. Deuteronomy. He stood some distance away from us, so that I was certain that I would not be overheard if I were to voice to Mr. Patley my opinion of him.
“That man there,” said I, nodding toward Bennett.
“The trainer?”
“I suppose that’s what he is, yes. I like him well enough, but I don’t accept his disavowal of all knowledge of how that pistol came into the hands of Katy Tiddle.”
“Disavowal?”
“Denial. Nor do I accept Mr. Deuteronomy’s ready acceptance of that denial.”
“Seemed a little hasty to me, too,” said Mr. Patley. “What do you plan to do about it?”
“Nothing, for the moment,” said I, “but I just wanted you to know how I felt about them-and find out how you felt, too.”
“Much as I like our Mr. Deuteronomy, that’s how I feel.”
We left it at that and turned our attention to the track. This was indeed the time to watch Pegasus at exercise. The light held good for far longer than I expected, and it was not long until the two of them, horse and rider, were the only such pair upon the course. It was then that the rider urged the horse to a canter. And only when all the rail-birds (as they are known) had departed, he allowed Pegasus to break into a full gallop, as the horse had been straining to do for many minutes. ’Twas not, by any means, the horse’s fastest, or so I was informed by Constable Patley. But fast enough it was, and both jockey and mount gloried in it. Nevertheless, it was growing dark-too dark to circle round at such speed. Or so Deuteronomy judged it, for he reined in to a halt just as a most impressive coach and four pulled up at the rail.
Who could it have been but Lord Lamford?
He hopped down from the coach quick as his considerable bulk would allow and was followed by a sharp- featured man of uncertain age.
“Hi, you there, Deuteronomy! Give us another lap on Pegasus, will you?”
“Can’t do it, Lord Lamford. It’s a bit too dark for it now.”
“Do as I say, fellow. I want the Duke of Queensberry to see what he can do.”
“Well, all right. Will a trot round the course do for you?”
“Certainly
“He could break a leg, my lord.”
“Then I’ll buy another like him.
With a sigh and a shrug, Mr. Deuteronomy took the leg up offered him by Mr. Bennett.
“Your jockey’s right, you know. It is a bit too dark for this track,” said the Duke of Queensberry. (Whatever his reputation otherwise, he knew his horses.)
“I just want you to see what he can do,” said Lord Lamford.
“Well, let’s see, by all means.”
Mr. Deuteronomy leaned forward and whispered something in the horse’s ear. Mr. Bennett backed away, and, seconds later, the horse was off at a gallop.
Ah, but was it a full gallop? Of that I was unsure. I thought I had seen Pegasus run faster but a few minutes before, and I was sure I had done so last Sunday in Shepherd’s Bush. A horse like Pegasus (I was later told by Mr. Patley) can often appear to run at his utmost and still hold back a bit to be called from him by the right jockey. There could be no doubt that Mr. Deuteronomy was the right jockey, but he chose not to call from him that something extra.
Mr. Patley looked my way and gave me a wink.
Once Pegasus had cleared the brook that ran cross the race course, it was evident that he would not break his leg-at least not that evening. He drew up just opposite us. Deuteronomy halted him so sudden that the horse reared, and just as soon as four hooves were firm upon the turf, the rider slid off and handed him over to Mr. Bennett.
“Ah, well, Lord Lamford,” said the Duke of Queensberry, “you’ve got a good little horse there. He’ll win a few races for you. I’ve heard of your jockey, though. What’s his name?”
“Er. . Deuteronomy something. I’m not sure.”
“I’d like to meet him.”
“Certainly, certainly.”
And having said that, he called out for Mr. Deuteronomy. As the jockey marched past us, he muttered out the corner of his mouth that he would meet us for dinner in the tap-room.
“I’ve something to tell,” said he.
Once he was past and presented to the Duke of Queensberry, I turned to Mr. Patley and suggested that we be on our way. He was more than willing-eager, in fact, to be quit of Lord Lamford. We wasted no time.
When we had started up the hill, Patley turned to me and said, “Now, Jeremy, I understand why you have so little use for that fellow Lamford-or whatever his family name might be.”
But I hardly heard him at all, for I was just at that moment looking at something so astonishing that it did fair amaze me. ’Twas the slate that hung high above the stall of the turf accountant, giving the odds on each horse. I had looked at it the day before and complained that Pegasus was not even listed, and the constable had explained that it was because he had not yet been officially entered. Well, now he was entered and was listed at the very bottom.
“Mr. Patley,” said I, “just look at the odds on Pegasus!”
“Well, it don’t matter what they be,” said he. “The place is closed for now, and. . and-oh, dear God in heaven, I never did see such odds as that!”
Yet there it was, posted plain upon the slate: “Pegasus, 33 to 1.” We stopped, stared, repeated it each to himself, over and over again.
“Well,” said I, recalling Clarissa’s instructions, “those are certainly favorable odds.”
“They are indeed.”
By the time we found our way to the tap-room, we could only hope that Mr. Deuteronomy would still be present, for we two together had caught bettor’s fever. Mr. Patley spun great fantasies of just what he might do if
