During the next fortnight Sarah came several times to the "King's Head."
She came in about nine in the evening, and stayed for half-an-hour or
more. The ostensible object of her visit was to see Esther, but she
declined to come into the private bar, where they would have chatted
comfortably, and remained in the public bar listening to the men's
conversation, listening and nodding while old John explained the horse's
staying power to her. On the following evening all her interest was in
Ketley. She wanted to know if anything had happened that might be
considered as an omen. She said she had dreamed about the race, but her
dream was only a lot of foolish rubbish without head or tail. Ketley
argued earnestly against this view of a serious subject, and in the hope
of convincing her of her error offered to walk as far as Oxford Street
with her and put her into her 'bus. But on the following evening all her
interest was centered in Mr. Journeyman, who declared that he could prove
that according to the weight it seemed to him to look more and more like a
certainty. He had let the horse in at six stone ten pounds, the official
handicapper had only given him six stone seven pounds.
"They is a-sending of him along this week, and if the leg don't go it is a
hundred pound to a brass farthing on the old horse."
"How many times will they gallop him?" Sarah asked.
"He goes a mile and a 'arf every day now.... The day after to-morrow
they'll try him, just to see that he hasn't lost his turn of speed, and if
he don't break down in the trial you can take it from me that it will be
all right."
"When will you know the result of the trial?"
"I expect a letter on Friday morning," said Stack. "If you come in in the
evening I'll let you know about it."
"Thank you very much, Mr. Stack. I must be getting home now."
"I'm going your way, Miss Tucker.... If you like, we'll go together, and
I'll tell you," he whispered, "all about the 'orse."
When they had left the bar the conversation turned on racing as an
occupation for women.
"Fancy my wife making a book on the course. I bet she'd overlay it and
then turn round and back the favourite at a shorter price than she'd been
laying."
"I don't know that we should be any foolisher than you," said Esther;
"don't you never go and overlay your book? What about Syntax and the 'orse
you told me about last week?"
William had been heavily hit last week through overlaying his book against
a horse he didn't believe in, and the whole bar joined in the laugh
against him.
"I don't say nothing about bookmaking," said Journeyman; "but there's a
great many women nowadays who is mighty sharp at spotting a 'orse that the
handicapper had let in pretty easy."
"This one," said Ketley, jerking his thumb in the direction that Stack and
Sarah had gone, "seems to 'ave got hold of something."
"We must ask Stack when he comes back," and Journeyman winked at William.
"Women do get that excited over trifles," old John remarked,
sarcastically. "She ain't got above 'alf-a-crown on the 'orse, if that.
She don't care about the 'orse or the race--no woman ever did; it's all
about some sweetheart that's been piling it on."
"I wonder if you're right," said Esther, reflectively. "I never knew her
before to take such an interest in a horse-race."
On the day of the race Sarah came into the private bar about three
o'clock. The news was not yet in.
"Wouldn't you like to step into the parlour; you'll be more comfortable?"
said Esther.
"No thank you, dear; it is not worth while. I thought I'd like to know
which won, that's all."
"Have you much on?"
"No, five shillings altogether.... But a friend of mine stands to win a
good bit. I see you've got a new dress, dear. When did you get it?"
"I've had the stuff by me some time. I only had it made up last month. Do
you like it?"
Sarah answered that she thought it very pretty. But Esther could see that
she was thinking of something quite different.
"The race is over now. It's run at half-past two."
"Yes, but they're never quite punctual; there may be a delay at the post."
"I see you know all about it."
"One never hears of anything else."
Esther asked Sarah when her people came back to town, and was surprised at
the change of expression that the question brought to her friend's face.
"They're expected back to-morrow," she said. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, nothing; something to say, that's all."
The conversation paused, and the two women looked at each other. At that
moment a voice coming rapidly towards them was heard calling, "Win-ner,
win-ner!"
"I'll send out for the paper," said Esther.
"No, no... Suppose he shouldn't have won?"
"Well, it won't make any difference."
"Oh, Esther, no; some one will come in and tell us. The race can't be over
yet; it is a long race, and takes some time to run."
By this time the boy was far away, and fainter and fainter the terrible
word, "Win-ner, win-ner, win-ner."
"It's too late now," said Sarah; "some one'll come in presently and tell
us about it.... I daresay it ain't the paper at all. Them boys cries out
anything that will sell."
"Win-ner, win-ner." The voice was coming towards them.
"If he has won, Bill and I is to marry.... Somehow I feel as if he
hasn't."
"Win-ner."
"We shall soon know." Esther took a halfpenny from the till.
"Don't you think we'd better wait? It can't be printed in the papers, not
the true account, and if it was wrong--" Esther didn't answer; she gave
Charles the halfpenny; he went out, and in a few minutes came back with
the paper in his hand. "Tornado first, Ben Jonson second, Woodcraft
third," he read out. "That's a good thing for the guv'nor. There was very
few what backed Tornado.... He's only lost some place-money."
"So he was only second," said Sarah, turning deadly pale. "They said he
was certain to win."
"I hope you've not lost much," said Esther. "It wasn't with William that
you backed him."
"No, it wasn't with William. I only had a few shillings on. It don't
matter. Let me have a drink."
"What will you have?"
"Some whisky."
Sarah drank it neat. Esther looked at her doubtfully.
The bars would be empty for the next two hours; Esther wished to utilize
this time; she had some shopping to do, and asked Sarah to come with her.
But Sarah complained of being tired, and said she would see her when she
came back.
Esther went out a little perplexed. She was detained longer than she
expected, and when she returned Sarah was staggering about in the
bar-room, asking Charles for one more drink.
"All bloody rot; who says I'm drunk? I ain't... look at me. The 'orse did
not win, did he? I say he did; papers all so much bloody rot."
"Oh, Sarah, what is this?"
"Who's this? Leave go, I say."
"Mr. Stack, won't you ask her to come upstairs?... Don't encourage her."
"Upstairs? I'm a free woman. I don't want to go upstairs. I'm a free
woman; tell me," she said, balancing herself with difficulty and staring
at Esther with dull, fishy eyes, "tell me if I'm not a free woman? What do
I want upstairs for?"
"Oh, Sarah, come upstairs and lie down. Don't go out."
"I'm going home. Hands off, hands off!" she said, slapping Esther's hands
from her arm.
"'For every one was drunk last night,
And drunk the night before;
And if we don't get drunk to-night,
We don't get drunk no more.
(Chorus.)
"'Now you will have a drink with me,
And I will drink with you;
For we're the very rowdiest lot
Of the rowdy Irish crew.'
"That's what we used to sing in the Lane, yer know; should 'ave seen the
coster gals with their feathers, dancing and clinking their pewters.
Rippin Day, Bank 'oliday, Epping, under the trees--'ow they did romp,
them gals!
"'We all was roaring drunk last night,
And drunk the night before;
And if we don't get drunk to-night,
We won't get drunk no more.'
"Girls and boys, you know, all together."
"Sarah, listen to me."
"Listen! Come and have a drink, old gal, just another drink." She
staggered up to the counter. "One more, just for luck; do yer 'ear?"
Before Charles could stop her she had seized the whisky that had just been
served. "That's my whisky," exclaimed Journeyman. He made a rapid
movement, but was too late. Sarah had drained the glass and stood vacantly
looking into space. Journeyman seemed so disconcerted at the loss of his
whisky that every one laughed.
A few moments after Sarah staggered forward and fell insensible into his
arms. He and Esther carried her upstairs and laid her on the bed in the
spare room.
"She'll be precious bad to-morrow," said Journeyman.
"I don't know how you could have gone on helping her," Esther said to
Charles when she got inside the bar; and she seemed so pained that out of
deference to her feelings the subject was dropped out of the conversation.
Esther felt that something shocking had happened. Sarah had deliberately
got drunk. She would not have done that unless she had some great trouble
on her mind. William, too, was of this opinion. Something serious must
have happened. As they went up to their room Esther said--
"It is all the fault of this betting. The neighbourhood is completely
ruined. They're losing their 'omes and their furniture, and you'll bear
the blame of it."
"It do make me so wild to hear you talkin' that way, Esther. People will
bet, you can't stop them. I lays fair prices, and they're sure of their
money. Yet you says they're losin' their furniture, and that I shall have
to bear the blame."