ntemplated all these women occupying the `grand stand'--cool and
dainty and elegant in their light summer attire--and this beautiful girl
queening it over her little court of admirers, it seemed to him that the
responsibility resting upon his own shoulders was too great, too awful,
too superhuman: and the thought flitted through his brain that perhaps
he ought never to have assumed it. A warning to the authorities to
postpone the race meeting and put the township into a state of defence--
would not such have been his plain duty? But then they would only have
laughed at him for a scare-monger and have done nothing. Moreover, even
had he decided on such a plan, the Fates had already decided against it,
for the lame horse on which he had started for Gandela had gone lamer
still, with the result that he had been obliged to abandon the animal,
and cover nearly half the distance on foot. He had further been forced
to make a considerable _detour_, in order to avoid the mustering impi,
portions of which he had seen, and all heading for the point arranged
upon--consequently it was not until the early afternoon that he gained
the township at all.

There was yet time. The prize-giving was the crucial moment, and that
would not take place for at least three hours. He made a good meal at
the hotel--an absolute necessity--and sent it down with a bottle of the
best champagne the house had got. Even then, when he arrived on the
course, he drew the remark that he was `looking rather seedy,' as we
have heard.

"Why, Mr Lamont, you are quiet," said Clare brightly. "Shall I offer
you the regulation penny?"

He smiled queerly.

"Am I? Oh, Driffield's making such a row one couldn't have heard
oneself speak in any case."

"I like that," exclaimed the implicated one. "By Jove, old chap, you do
look chippy! And--you've got a coat on."

"Yes. Premonitory touch of fever. No good taking risks. That you,
Ancram? I say, why the dickens didn't you send back my gee again? I've
been wanting him more than enough, I can tell you."

Ancram explained that he thought a day or two more or less didn't
matter, and he was awfully sorry, and so on, the while he was thinking
what a beastly disagreeable chap Lamont could be if he liked, and what
rotten form it was kicking up a row in public about his old bag of
bones, which he probably hadn't really been in want of at all.

"I'm tired of sitting here," pronounced Clare. "I want to walk ab