en a relief to hear Copley say that he would not be down again
till the end of the week. Therefore he had three days in which to think
of some scheme. It was a bright, fresh February morning, with a touch of
frost in the air, but the diamonds were growing soft and yielding to the
sunshine. May Haredale was in excellent spirits. It was impossible not
to catch the infection of her gaiety. Fielden put trouble on one side.
There would be time for that later, he thought, as they rode out
together over the Downs. They were out again in the afternoon and it was
dark before they returned. It was like old times for Fielden to feel a
good horse under him. The exercise and motion drove all gloomy thoughts
away. Still, from time to time the shadow of distress lay heavily upon
his shoulders.

He strolled round to Mallow's after tea to have a pipe and chat with
Raffle. Everything appeared to be going well, and the old man was in
high glee.

"We shall try the colt at daybreak," he said. "Would you like to come
and have a look, Mr. Harry? I daresay there will be one or two people
about, but I don't think they'll learn much. I've got a plan of my own
on foot, and after to-morrow I shouldn't be surprised if you found the
colt going a little queerly in the betting."

Raffle chuckled as he spoke, but refused to be more explicit.

"Oh, never you mind, sir," he said. "There are some things it is as well
not to talk about. If you like to turn out to-morrow as soon as it is
light, I think I can show you something worth looking at."

Fielden nodded approvingly. He woke fairly early with the pale dull
light of the wintry morning streaming through his window, crept
downstairs into the deserted hall and let himself out by a side door.
The grey mist hanging over the Downs lifted as the sun began to make his
influence felt. A little later Fielden discerned a group of figures
faintly sketched against the skyline, and could see two horses in their
clothing. Then he picked out the form of Joe Raffle. There was a stretch
of turf between two banks of gorse, and the horses began to move along
the flat expanse. Fielden strolled up to the group, and was amused to
see the suspicious glances turned in his direction.

"That's all right, Mr. Mallow," Raffle muttered. "This gentleman is a
friend of mine. Now, sir, will you go on to the top of the Downs and
wait for us by the boundary stone? That will be the winning post. No
reason, I suppose, to ask you if