The Amateur Gentleman

"Well ridden, sir!" says the gentleman. "Couldn't have done it

better myself, no, by Gad I couldn't--could I, Sherry?"

"No, George, by George you couldn't!" answered a voice.

"Must take a run down to Brighton, Mr.--Mr.--ah, yes--Beverley.

Show you some sport at Brighton, sir. A magnificent race,

--congratulate you, sir. Must see more of you!"

Then, still as one in a dream, Barnabas bows again, sees Martin at

"The Terror's" bridle, and is led back, through a pushing, jostling

throng all eager to behold the winner, and thus, presently finds

himself once more in the quiet of the paddock behind the "White Hart"

inn.

Stiffly and painfully he descends from the saddle, hears a feeble

voice call his name and turning, beholds a hurdle set in the shade

of a tree, and upon the hurdle the long, limp form of Captain

Slingsby, with three or four strangers kneeling beside him.

"Ah, Beverley!" said he faintly. "Glad you beat Carnaby, he--crowded

me a bit--at the wall, y' know. Poor old 'Rascal' 's gone,

b'gad--and I'm going, but prefer to--go--out of doors,--seems more

room for it somehow--give me the sky to look at. Told you it would

be a grand race, and--b'gad, so it was! Best I--ever rode--or ever

shall. Eh--what, Beverley? No, no--mustn't take it--so hard, dear

fellow. B'gad it--might be worse, y' know. I--might have lost,

and--lived--been deeper in Gaunt's clutches than ever,--then. As it

is, I'm going beyond--beyond his reach--for good and all. Which is

the purest--bit of luck I ever had. Lift me up a little--will you,

Beverley? Deuced fine day, b'gad! And how green the grass is--never

saw it so green before--probably because--never troubled to look

though, was always so--deuced busy, b'gad!--The poor old 'Rascal'

broke his back, Beverley--so did I. They--shot 'The Rascal,' but--"

Here the Captain sighed, and closed his eyes wearily, but after a

moment opened them again.

"A fine race, gentlemen!" said he, addressing the silent group,

"a fine race well ridden--and won by--my friend, Beverley. I'll

warrant him a--true-blue, gentlemen. Beverley, I--I congratulate--"

Once more he closed his eyes, sighed deeply and, with the sigh,

Captain Slingsby of the Guards had paid his debts--for good and all.