“Here is a true, correct, and particular account, of the noblemen, gentlemen, and yeomen’s horses, that is to run this day over the course of Musselburry, with the names, weights, and liveries of the riders, and the same of the horses themselves!”
Such were the cries that saluted me, as next day I rode up to the race-course of Musselburgh. I purchased a card, which among other entries contained thefollowing:—
Edinburgh Squadron Cup, 12 Stone.
MrA. Chaffinch’sbr. g.Groggyboy—Green and White Cap.MrRandolphns. b. g.Cheeser—Geranium and French Grey.MrM’Whirter’sbl. g.Masaniello—Peach-blossom and Scarlet.MrHargatens. ch. m.Loupowerher—Fawn and Black Cap.MrPounset’sb. m.Miss Frolic—Orange and Blue.MrShakerleyns. b. g.Spontaneous Combustion—White body and Liver-coloured sleeves.
MrA. Chaffinch’sbr. g.Groggyboy—Green and White Cap.
MrRandolphns. b. g.Cheeser—Geranium and French Grey.
MrM’Whirter’sbl. g.Masaniello—Peach-blossom and Scarlet.
MrHargatens. ch. m.Loupowerher—Fawn and Black Cap.
MrPounset’sb. m.Miss Frolic—Orange and Blue.
MrShakerleyns. b. g.Spontaneous Combustion—White body and Liver-coloured sleeves.
I made my way to the stand. Miss Bogle and Mary Muggerland were there, but so also was the eternal Roper.
“Ah, M’Whirter!” said the latter. “How do you feel yourself this morning? None the worse of your tumble yesterday, I hope? Mere accident, you know. Spiwited cweature Masaniello, it must be confessed. ’Gad, if you can make him go the pace as well to-day, you’ll distance the whole of the rest of them.”
“Oh, Mr M’Whirter! I’msoglad to see you!” said Edith. “How funny you looked yesterday when you were running away! Do you know that I waved my handkerchief to you as you passed, but you were not polite enough to take any notice?”
“Indeed, Miss Bogle, I had something else to think of at that particular moment.”
“You werenotthinking about me, then?” said Edith. “Well, I can’t call that a very gallant speech.”
“I’ll lay an even bet,” said Roper, “that you were thinking more about the surgeon.”
“Were you ever wounded, Mr Roper?” said I.
“Once—in the heart, and incurably,” replied the coxcomb, with a glance at Edith.
“Pshaw! because if you had been, you would scarce have ventured to select the surgeon as the subject of a joke. But I forgot. These are times of peace.”
“When men of peace become soldiers,” retorted Roper.
“I declare you are very silly!” cried Edith; “and I have a good mind to send both of you away.”
“Death rather than banishment!” said Roper.
“Well, then, do be quiet! I takesuchan interest in your race, Mr M’Whirter. Do you know I have two pairs of gloves upon it? So you must absolutely contrive to win. By the way, what are your colours?”
“Peach-blossom and scarlet.”
“How very gallant! I take it quite as a compliment to myself.”
“M’Whirter! you’re wanted,” cried a voice from below.
“Bless me! I suppose it is time for saddling. Farewell, Edith—farewell, Mary! I shall win if I possibly can.”
“Good-by!” said Roper. “Stick on tightly and screw him up, and there’s no fear of Masaniello.”
“Where the deuce have you been, M’Whirter?” said Randolph. “Get into the scales as fast as you can. You’ve been keeping the whole of us waiting.”
“I’ll back Masaniello against thefield at two to one,” said Anthony Whaup.
“Done with you, in ponies,” said Patsey Chaffinch, who was assisting his brother from the scales.
“Do you feel nervous, M’Whirter?” asked Hosier, a friend who was backing me rather heavily. “You look a little white in the face.”
“To tell you the truth—I do.”
“That’s bad. Had you not better take a glass of brandy?”
“Not a bad idea;” and I took it.
“That’s right. Now canter him about a little, and you’ll soon get used to it.”
I shall carefully avoid having any occasion to make use of my dear-bought experience. I felt remarkably sheepish as I rode out upon the course, and heard the observations of the crowd.
“And wha’s yon in the saumon-coloured jacket?”
“It’ll be him they ca’ Chaffinch.”
“Na, man—yon chield wad make twa o’ Chaffinch. He’s but a feather-wecht o’ a cratur.”
“Wow, Jess! but that’s a bonnie horse!”
“Bonnier than the man that’s on it, ony how.”
“Think ye that’s the beast they ca’ Masonyellow?”
“I’m thinkin’ sae. That man can ride nane. He’s nae grupp wi’ his thees.”
These were the sort of remarks which met my ears as I paced along, nor, as I must confess, was I particularly elated thereby. Pounset now rode up.
“Well, M’Whirter, we are to have another sort of race to-day. I half fear, from the specimen I have seen of Masaniello, that my little mare runs a poor chance; but Chaffinch will give you work for it—Groggyboy was a crack horse in his day. But come, there goes the bell, and we are wanted at the starting-post.”
The remainder of my story is short.
“Ready, gentlemen?—Off!” and away we went, Spontaneous Combustion leading, Miss Frolic and Groggyboy next, Randolph and myself following, and Hargate bringing up the rear on Loupowerher, who never had a chance. After the first few seconds, when all was mist before my eyes, I felt considerably easier. Masaniello was striding out vigorously, and I warmed insensibly to the work. The pace became terrific. Spon. Bus. gradually gave way, and Groggyboy took the lead. I saw nothing more of Randolph. On we went around the race-course like a crowd of motley demoniacs, whipping, spurring, and working at our reins as if thereby we were assisting our progression. I was resolved to conquer or to die.
Round we came in sight of the assembled multitude. I could even hear their excited cries in the distance. Masaniello was now running neck and neck with Groggyboy—Miss Frolic half-a-length before!
And now we neared the stand. I thought I could see the white fluttering of Edith’s handkerchief—I clenched my teeth, grasped my whip, and lashed vigorously at Masaniello. In a moment more I should have been a-head—but there was a crash, and then oblivion.
Evil was the mother that whelped that cur of a butcher’s dog! He ran right in before Masaniello, and horse and man were hurled with awful violence to the ground. I forgive Masaniello. Poor brute! his leg was broken, and they had to shoot him on the course. He was my first and last charger.
As for myself, I was picked up insensible, and conveyed home upon a shutter, thereby fulfilling to the letter the ominous prophecies of Nelly, who cried the coronach over me. Two of my ribs were fractured, and for three weeks I was confined to bed with a delirious fever.
“What noise is that below stairs, Nelly?” asked I on the second morning of my convalescence.
“’Deed, Maister George, I’m thinking it’s just the servant lass chappin’ coals wi’ yer swurd.”
“Serve it right. And what parcel is that on the table?
“I dinna ken: it came in yestreen.”
“Give it me.”
“Heaven and earth! Wedding-cake and cards!Mr and Mrs Roper!”