<p><SPAN name="c44" id="c44"></SPAN> </p>
<p> </p>
<h3>CHAPTER XLIV</h3>
<h3>How It Was Done<br/> </h3>
<p>The story was soon about the town, and was the one matter for
discussion in all racing quarters. About the town! It was about
England, about all Europe. It had travelled to America and the
Indies, to Australia and the Chinese cities before two hours were
over. Before the race was run the accident was discussed and
something like the truth surmised in Cairo, Calcutta, Melbourne, and
San Francisco. But at Doncaster it was so all-pervading a matter that
down to the tradesmen's daughters and the boys at the free-school the
town was divided into two parties, one party believing it to have
been a "plant," and the other holding that the cause had been
natural. It is hardly necessary to say that the ring, as a rule,
belonged to the former party. The ring always suspects. It did not
behove even those who would win by the transaction to stand up for
its honesty.</p>
<p>The intention had been to take the horse round a portion of the
outside of the course near to which his stable stood. A boy rode him
and the groom and Tifto went with him. At a certain spot on their
return Tifto had exclaimed that the horse was going lame in his off
fore-foot. As to this exclamation the boy and the two men were
agreed. The boy was then made to dismount and run for Mr. Pook; and
as he started Tifto commenced to examine the horse's foot. The boy
saw him raise the off fore-leg. He himself had not found the horse
lame under him, but had been so hustled and hurried out of the saddle
by Tifto and the groom that he had not thought on that matter till he
was questioned. So far the story told by Tifto and the groom was
corroborated by the boy,—except as to the horse's actual lameness.
So far the story was believed by all men,—except in regard to the
actual lameness. And so far it was true. Then, according to Tifto and
the groom, the other foot was looked at, but nothing was seen. This
other foot, the near fore-foot, was examined by the groom, who
declared himself to be so flurried by the lameness of such a horse at
such a time, that he hardly knew what he saw or what he did not see.
At any rate then in his confusion he found no cause of lameness, but
the horse was led into the stable as lame as a tree. Here Tifto found
the nail inserted into the very cleft of the frog of the near
fore-foot, and so inserted that he could not extract it till the
farrier came. That the farrier had extracted the nail from the part
of the foot indicated was certainly a fact.</p>
<p>Then there was the nail. Only those who were most peculiarly
privileged were allowed to see the nail. But it was buzzed about the
racing quarters that the head of the nail,—an old rusty, straight,
and well-pointed nail,—bore on it the mark of a recent hammer. In
answer to this it was alleged that the blacksmith in extracting the
nail with his pincers, had of course operated on its head, had
removed certain particles of rust, and might easily have given it the
appearance of having been struck. But in answer to this the farrier,
who was a sharp fellow, and quite beyond suspicion in the matter,
declared that he had very particularly looked at the nail before he
extracted it,—had looked at it with the feeling on his mind that
something base might too probably have been done,—and that he was
ready to swear that the clear mark on the head of the nail was there
before he touched it. And then not in the stable, but lying under the
little dung-heap away from the stable-door, there was found a small
piece of broken iron bar, about a foot long, which might have
answered for a hammer,—a rusty bit of iron; and amidst the rust of
this was found such traces as might have been left had it been used
in striking such a nail. There were some who declared that neither on
the nail nor on the iron could they see anything. And among these was
the Major. But Mr. Lupton brought a strong magnifying-glass to bear,
and the world of examiners was satisfied that the marks were there.</p>
<p>It seemed however to be agreed that nothing could be done.
Silverbridge would not lend himself at all to those who suspected
mischief. He was miserable enough, but in this great trouble he would
not separate himself from Tifto. "I don't believe a word of all
that," he said to Mr. Lupton.</p>
<p>"It ought to be investigated at any rate," said Lupton.</p>
<p>"Mr. Pook may do as he likes, but I will have nothing to do with it."</p>
<p>Then Tifto came to him swaggering. Tifto had to go through a
considerable amount of acting, for which he was not very well
adapted. The Captain would have done it better. He would have
endeavoured to put himself altogether into the same boat with his
partner, and would have imagined neither suspicion or enmity on his
partner's part till suspicion or enmity had been shown. But Tifto,
who had not expected that the matter would be allowed to pass over
without some inquiry, began by assuming that Silverbridge would think
evil of him. Tifto, who at this moment would have given all that he
had in the world not to have done the deed, who now hated the
instigator of the deed, and felt something almost akin to love for
Silverbridge, found himself to be forced by circumstances to defend
himself by swaggering. "I don't understand all this that's going on,
my Lord," he said.</p>
<p>"Neither do I," replied Silverbridge.</p>
<p>"Any horse is subject to an accident. I am, I suppose, as great a
sufferer as you are, and a deuced sight less able to bear it."</p>
<p>"Who has said anything to the contrary? As for bearing it, we must
take it as it comes,—both of us. You may as well know now as later
that I have done with racing—for ever."</p>
<p>"What do you tell me that for? You can do as you like and I can do as
I like about that. If I had had my way about the horse this never
would have happened. Taking a horse out at that time in the
morning,—before a race!"</p>
<p>"Why, you went with him yourself."</p>
<p>"Yes;—by Pook's orders. You allowed Pook to do just as he pleased. I
should like to know what money Pook has got on it, and which way he
laid it." This disgusted Silverbridge so much that he turned away and
would have no more to say to Tifto.</p>
<p>Before one o'clock, at which hour it was stated nominally that the
races would commence, general opinion had formed itself,—and general
opinion had nearly hit the truth. General opinion declared that the
nail had been driven in wilfully,—that it had been done by Tifto
himself, and that Tifto had been instigated by Captain Green. Captain
Green perhaps over-acted his part a little. His intimacy with the
Major was well known, and yet, in all this turmoil, he kept himself
apart as though he had no interest in the matter. "I have got my
little money on, and what little I have I lose," he said in answer to
inquiries. But everyone knew that he could not but have a great
interest in a race, as to which the half owner of the favourite was a
peculiarly intimate friend of his own. Had he come down to the
stables and been seen about the place with Tifto it might have been
better. As it was, though he was very quiet, his name was soon mixed
up in the matter. There was one man who asserted it as a fact known
to himself that Green and Villiers,—one Gilbert Villiers,—were in
partnership together. It was very well known that Gilbert Villiers
would win two thousand five hundred pounds from Lord Silverbridge.</p>
<p>Then minute investigation was made into the betting of certain
individuals. Of course there would be great plunder, and where would
the plunder go? Who would get the money which poor Silverbridge would
lose? It was said that one at least of the large bets made on that
Tuesday evening could be traced to the same Villiers though not
actually made by him. More would be learned when the settling-day
should come. But there was quite enough already to show that there
were many men determined to get to the bottom of it all if possible.</p>
<p>There came upon Silverbridge in his trouble a keen sense of his
position and a feeling of the dignity which he ought to support. He
clung during great part of the morning to Mr. Lupton. Mr. Lupton was
much his senior and they had never been intimate; but now there was
comfort in his society. "I am afraid you are hit heavily," said Mr.
Lupton.</p>
<p>"Something over seventy thousand pounds!"</p>
<p>"Looking at what will be your property it is of course nothing. But
<span class="nowrap">if—"</span></p>
<p>"If what?"</p>
<p>"If you go to the Jews for it then it will become a great deal."</p>
<p>"I shall certainly not do that."</p>
<p>"Then you may regard it as a trifle," said Lupton.</p>
<p>"No, I can't. It is not a trifle. I must tell my father. He'll find
the money."</p>
<p>"There is no doubt about that."</p>
<p>"He will. But I feel at present that I would rather change places
with the poorest gentleman I know than have to tell him. I have done
with races, Lupton."</p>
<p>"If so, this will have been a happy day for you. A man in your
position can hardly make money by it, but he may lose so much! If a
man really likes the amusement,—as I do,—and risks no more than
what he has in his pocket, that may be very well."</p>
<p>"At any rate I have done with it."</p>
<p>Nevertheless he went to see the race run, and everybody seemed to be
touched with pity for him. He carried himself well, saying as little
as he could of his own horse, and taking, or affecting to take, great
interest in the race. After the race he managed to see all those to
whom he had lost heavy stakes,—having to own to himself, as he did
so, that not one of them was a gentleman to whom he should like to
give his hand. To them he explained that his father was abroad,—that
probably his liabilities could not be settled till after his father's
return. He however would consult his father's agent and would then
appear on settling-day. They were all full of the blandest
courtesies. There was not one of them who had any doubt as to getting
his money,—unless the whole thing might be disputed on the score of
Tifto's villany. Even then payment could not be disputed, unless it
was proved that he who demanded the money had been one of the actual
conspirators. After having seen his creditors he went away up alone
to London.</p>
<p>When in London he went to Carlton Terrace and spent the night in
absolute solitude. It had been his plan to join Gerald for some
partridge-shooting at Matching, and then to go yachting till such
time as he should be enabled to renew his suit to Miss Boncassen.
Early in November he would again ask her to be his wife. These had
been his plans. But now it seemed that everything was changed.
Partridge-shooting and yachting must be out of the question till this
terrible load was taken off his shoulders. Soon after his arrival at
the house two telegrams followed him from Doncaster. One was from
Gerald. "What is all this about Prime Minister? Is it a sell? I am so
unhappy." The other was from Lady Mabel,—for among other luxuries
Mrs. Montacute Jones had her own telegraph-wire at Killancodlem. "Can
this be true? We are all so miserable. I do hope it is not much."
From which he learned that his misfortune was already known to all
his friends.</p>
<p>And now what was he to do? He ate his supper, and then without
hesitating for a moment,—feeling that if he did hesitate the task
would not be done on that night,—he sat down and wrote the following
letter:<br/> </p>
<blockquote>
<p class="jright">Carlton Terrace, Sept. 14, 18—.</p>
<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dear Mr. Moreton</span>,</p>
<p>I have just come up from Doncaster. You have probably
heard what has been Prime Minister's fate. I don't know
whether any horse has ever been such a favourite for the
Leger. Early in the morning he was taken out and picked up
a nail. The consequence was he could not run.</p>
<p>Now I must come to the bad part of my story. I have lost
seventy thousand pounds! It is no use beating about the
bush. The sum is something over that. What am I to do? If
I tell you that I shall give up racing altogether I dare
say you will not believe me. It is a sort of thing a man
always says when he wants money; but I feel now I cannot
help saying it.</p>
<p>But what shall I do? Perhaps, if it be not too much
trouble, you will come up to town and see me. You can send
me a word by the wires.</p>
<p>You may be sure of this, I shall make no attempt to raise
the money elsewhere, unless I find that my father will not
help me. You will understand that of course it must be
paid. You will understand also what I must feel about
telling my father, but I shall do so at once. I only wait
till I can hear from you.</p>
<p class="ind10">Yours faithfully,</p>
<p class="ind15"><span class="smallcaps">Silverbridge</span>.<br/> </p>
</blockquote>
<p>During the next day two despatches reached Lord Silverbridge, both of
them coming as he sat down to his solitary dinner. The first
consisted of a short but very civil note.<br/> </p>
<blockquote>
<p>Messrs. Comfort and Criball present their compliments to
the Earl of Silverbridge.</p>
<p>Messrs. C. and C. beg to offer their apologies for
interfering, but desire to inform his Lordship that should
cash be wanting to any amount in consequence of the late
races, they will be happy to accommodate his Lordship on
most reasonable terms at a moment's notice, upon his
Lordship's single bond.</p>
<p>Lord Silverbridge may be sure of absolute secrecy.</p>
<p class="noindent">Crasham Court, Crutched Friars,
Sept. 15, 18—.<br/> </p>
</blockquote>
<p>The other despatch was a telegram from Mr. Moreton saying that he
would be in Carlton Terrace by noon on the following day.</p>
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