CHAPTER III

DAISY

Mr. Walters piqued himself on his _sang-froid_. If the _fractus orbis_

had gone, as he would have expressed it, "to blue smash," "_impavidum

ferient ruinæ_," he would have contemplated the predicament from a

ludicrous rather than a perplexing point of view. Nevertheless, his eye

grew brighter, and the colour deepened on his cheek, when Miss Douglas

halted to lean over the rails and shake hands with him.

He was very fond of the black mare, you see, and believed firmly in her

superiority to her kind.

"Oh! Daisy! I'm so glad to see you!" said Miss Douglas. "I never

thought you'd be in London this open weather. I'm so much obliged to

you, and you're the kindest person in the world; and--and--isn't she

looking well?"

"You're _both_ looking well," answered Daisy gallantly; "I thought I

couldn't miss you if I walked up this side of the Row and down the

other."

"Oh! Daisy! You didn't come on purpose!" exclaimed the lady, with

rather a forced laugh, and symptoms of a blush.

For answer, I am sorry to say, this young gentleman executed a

solemn wink. The age of chivalry may or may not be on the wane, but

woman-worshippers of to-day adopt a free-and-easy manner in expressing

their adoration, little flattering to the shrines at which they bow.

"Did you really want to see me?" continued Miss Douglas; "and why

couldn't you call? I'd have ridden with you this morning if I'd known

you were in town."

"Got no quad.," answered the laconic Daisy.

"And yet you lent me your mare!" said she. "Indeed, I can't think of

keeping her; I'll return her at once. Oh! Daisy! you unselfish--"

"Unselfish what?"

"Goose!" replied the lady. "Now, when will you have her back? She's

as quiet again as she used to be, and I do believe there isn't such

another beauty in the world."

"That's why I gave her to _you_," answered Daisy. "It's no question of

lending; she's yours, just as much as this umbrella's mine. Beauty!

I should think she _was_ a beauty. I don't pay compliments, or I'd

say--there's a pair of you! Now, look here, Miss Douglas, I might ask

you to lend her to me for a month, perhaps, if I saw my way into a real

good thing. I don't think I ever told you how I came to buy that mare,

or what a clipper she is!"

"Tell me _now_!" said Miss Douglas eagerly. "Let's move on; people

stare so if one stops. You can speak the truth walking, I suppose, as

well as standing still!"

"It's truth I'm telling ye!" he answered, with a laugh. "I heard of

that mare up in Roscommon when she was two years old. I was a year

and a half trying to buy her; but I got her at last, for I'm not an

impatient fellow, you know, and I never lose sight of a thing I fancy I

should like."

"Watch and wait!" said the lady.

"Yes, I watched and I waited," he continued, "till at last they gave me

a ride. She'd had a good deal of fun with a sort of go-cart they tried

to put her in; and when I saw her I think her owner was a little out of

conceit with his venture. She was very poor and starved-looking,--not

half the mare she is now; but she ran away with me for nearly two

miles, and I found she _could_--_just_! So I bargained, and jawed, and

bothered, though I gave a hatful of money for her all the same. When I

got her home to barracks, I had her regularly broke and bitted; but she

never was easy to ride, and she never will be!"

For all comment, Miss Douglas drew the curb-rein through her fingers,

while the mare bent willingly and gently to her hand.

"Oh! I know they all go pleasant with _you_!" said Daisy. "Men and

horses, you've the knack of bringing them to their bridles in a day!

Well, I hunted her that season in Meath and Kildare; but somehow we

never dropped into a run. At last one morning, late in the Spring,

we turned out a deer in the Dublin country, and took him in exactly

twenty-seven minutes. _Then_ this child knew what its plaything was

made of. Didn't I, old girl?"

He patted the mare's neck, and her rider, whose eyes brightened

with interest, laid hers on exactly the same spot when his hand was

withdrawn.

"You found her as good as she looks," said Miss Douglas. "Oh! Daisy! in

that grass country it must have felt like being in heaven!"

"I don't know about that," said the light dragoon; "but we were not

very far off, sometimes, on the tops of those banks. However, I found

nothing could touch her in jumping, or come near her for pace. Not

a horse was within a mile of us for the last ten minutes; so I took

her down to the Curragh--and--Miss Douglas, can you--_can_ you keep a

secret?"

"Of course, I can," replied the lady. "What a question, Daisy, as if I

wasn't much more like a man than a woman!"

His face assumed an expression of solemnity befitting the communication

he had to impart. His voice sank to a whisper, and he looked stealthily

around, as if fearful of being overheard.

"We tried her at seven pound against Robber-Chief, four Irish miles

over a steeple-chase course. She gave the Chief seven pound, her year,

and a beating. Why, it makes her as good as the Lamb!"

Notwithstanding the gravity of such a topic, Miss Douglas laughed

outright.

"How _like_ you, Daisy, to run away with an idea. It does _not_ make

her as good as The Lamb, because you once told me yourself that

Robber-Chief never runs kindly in a trial. You see I don't forget

things. But all the same, I daresay she's as good again, the darling,

and I'm sure she's twice as good-looking!"

"Now, don't you see, Miss Douglas?" proceeded Daisy, "I've been

thinking you and I might do a good stroke of business if we stood in

together. My idea is this. I enter her at Punchestown for the Great

United Service Handicap. I send her down to be trained on the quiet at

a place I know of, not fifteen miles from where we're standing now.

Nobody can guess how she's bred, nor what she is. They mean to put

crushing weights on all the public runners. She'll be very well in, I

should say, at about eleven stone ten. I'll ride her myself, for I know

the course, and I'm used to that country. If we win, you must have half

the stakes, and you can back her, besides, for as much as you please.

What do you say to it?"

"I like the idea _immensely_!" answered Miss Douglas. "Only I don't

quite understand about the weights and that-- But, Daisy, are you

_sure_ it isn't dangerous? I mean for _you_. I've heard of such

horrible accidents at those Irish steeple-chases."

"I tell you she _can't_ fall," answered this sanguine young sportsman;

"and I hope I'm not likely to tumble off _her_!"

Miss Douglas hesitated. "Couldn't I--" she said shyly; "couldn't I ride

her in her gallops myself?"

He laughed; but his face clouded over the next moment.

"I ought not to have asked you," said he; "it seems so selfish to take

away your favourite; but the truth is, Miss Douglas, I'm so awfully

hard up that, unless I can land a good stake, it's all U--P with me!"

"Why didn't you tell me?" exclaimed Miss Douglas; "Why didn't you--"

Here she checked herself, and continued in rather a hard voice, "Of

course, if you're in a fix, it must be got out of, with as little delay

as possible. So take the mare, by all means; and another time, Daisy--

Well, another time don't be so shy of asking your friend's advice. If

I'd been your brother-officer, for instance, should I have seemed such

a bad person to consult?"

"By Jove, you're a trump!" he exclaimed impulsively, adding, in

qualification of this outspoken sentiment, "I mean, you've so good a

heart, you ought to have been a man!"

She coloured with pleasure; but her face turned very grave and sad,

while she replied, "I wish I had been! Don't you know what Tennyson

says? Never mind, you don't read Tennyson very often, I dare say!"

"I can't make out what fellows _mean_ in poetry," answered Daisy. "But

I like a good song if it's in English; and I like best of all to hear

_you_ play!"

"Now, what on earth has that to do with it?" she asked impatiently. "We

are talking about the mare. Send round for her to-morrow morning, and

you can enter her at once. Has she got a name?"

"It used to be The Dark Ladye," he answered, smiling rather

mischievously, "out of compliment to _you_. But I've changed it now."

"I ought to be very much flattered. And to what?"

"To Satanella."

She bit her lip, and tried to look vexed; but she couldn't be angry

with Daisy, so laughed heartily as she waved him a good-bye, and

cantered home.

Satanella: A Story of Punchestown · 第 3 / 30 章