ON THE EDGE
If Harry Fielden had hoped to see May again that night he was
disappointed. She was tired, Sir George said, and hoped that Fielden
would not mind if she did not come into the library. He was a little bit
under the mark himself and would go to bed. So Fielden was left to his
uneasy thoughts with the hope that he might learn something in the
morning. But glancing at May across the breakfast table he could read
nothing from the expression of her face. She was a little silent, but
otherwise her features were tranquil, and it was not till an hour or so
afterwards that Fielden found himself alone with her.
"I hope you are better?" he asked.
"Oh, there's nothing whatever the matter with me," May said in her
candid way. "I am only worried, that's all. You have been here quite
long enough to see that things are not going with us as they should. It
will be a terrible thing if our colt fails to win the Derby. Indeed, I
don't know how we shall be able to carry on till the end of May in any
case. What a wretched business it all is! How foolish people are to risk
their happiness on the speed of a horse! But the Haredales have always
been gamblers. I suppose it is in the blood. Put on your hat and take me
for a walk across the Downs. I need something to blow the cobwebs away."
Fielden was eager. For some time he walked in silence by the girl's
side, waiting for her to speak. He had a feeling that, sooner or later,
May would confide in him. She stopped suddenly and raised her eyes to
his.
"I am going to ask you a question," she said. "I want you to put
yourself in my place for a moment. Suppose that the honour and fortune
of the family rested in my hands, and it was for me to say whether the
Haredales were to leave this old place in poverty and disgrace, or
whether they were to stay on occupying the old position, what would you
do?"
"It depends on circumstances," Fielden said.
"Of course it does, my dear boy. I didn't expect you to make such a tame
reply as that. Surely you must know what I mean. It is for me to decide.
I have the opportunity of bringing into the family the necessary money
to set everything right. But at a price."
"As usual," Fielden, said sadly. "The price happens to be yourself."
"You have guessed it. The price is myself. I suppose it would be no news
to you if I told you who the man was."
"Not after last night," Fielden said between his teeth. "So Raymond
Copley has asked you to marry him. I suppose it is the old story which
one has read in books and newspapers a thousand times. Copley has got
your father under his thumb and has threatened to ruin him, unless you
consent to be his wife. I am not a very shrewd person, but I felt sure
of this when we came home last night. You refused Copley, of course, and
he took his refusal in the way such a cad would. He threatened you and
said he had your father on his side. And now you are hesitating what to
do. You have said that no power on earth shall force you to consent,
that you cannot save the family honour at such a price. You are right,
May. It is a vile thing to ask of a girl. It is so mean and
dishonourable. Heaven knows, I care for your welfare. I never knew how
much I did care till we met in London the other night. Then I realized
for the first time the price I am paying for my folly. If I hadn't been
a fool, you would be my wife to-day, and it would have been my pleasure
and privilege to help Sir George out of his trouble. Can you ever
forgive me?"
May turned a tearful face towards Fielden. Impulsively she held out her
hands to him, and he caught them almost fiercely. They were alone on
the wide stretch of Downs. Not a soul was in sight. Neither knew how it
happened, but a moment later Fielden's arms were about the girl, and she
was crying unrestrainedly upon his shoulder. There was only one thing
for it, and that was to kiss the tears away and bring the smiles back to
May's lips.
"Now we have done it," Fielden said ruefully. "I am a nice fellow to
talk about other men being dishonourable. I ought to be well thrashed
for giving way to temptation like this. Fancy a man in my position
daring to make love to any girl. But you knew what my feelings were."
"I was sure," May whispered.
"But what are we to do? It would be another matter, I suppose, if it
were three months later and the Blenheim colt had won the Derby. Then,
perhaps, Sir George would forgive me and make the best of it for your
sake. As it is, I have only succeeded in complicating matters. You are
resolved, of course, that nothing will induce you to change your mind so
far as Copley is concerned. But will you have strength enough to do it,
May? I don't think you realize the pressure which would be put upon you
when you find that Haredale Park will have to go, when you find yourself
in lodgings----"
"Never," May cried passionately. "I refuse even to discuss it. The idea
is unthinkable."
Fielden pressed the point no longer. He really had not the heart to do
so. Sufficient unto the day was the evil thereof. But it was with mixed
feelings that an hour or so later he walked across the fields to Seton
Manor. Copley was waiting to receive him. The latter was in his hardest
and most businesslike mood. There was something repellent about the
expression of his face. The library reeked strongly of tobacco and
spirits. From the ruddy tinge on Copley's face he had partaken of more
than one brandy and soda already.
Fielden hoped there was nothing in the expression of his face which in
any way betrayed his thoughts. Fancy a man like this married to a girl
like May Haredale! Copley was braggart and bully to his finger-tips--a
man without heart, or conscience, or feeling. Nay, he was worse than
this, as Fielden very well knew. For the moment, it was on the tip of
Harry's tongue to say he had thought the matter over and had decided to
decline Copley's offer. But more prudent thoughts prevailed. It would be
as well to be as near Copley as possible, to be on the spot, to act when
disaster threatened. Besides, Fielden, to some extent, was in league
with Aaron Phillips, and if there was anything in the way of rascality
afoot, it might be possible to detect it. It would be a fine thing to go
to Copley with the evidence of his rascality in plain black and white,
and agree to silence on the condition that this persecution of Miss
Haredale ceased.
"Ah! you have come," Copley said in his blunt way. "Well, I have
arranged everything for you. I want you to take over the entire
management of my stable. The last man had four hundred a year and the
run of the house, and I am prepared to offer you the same terms.
Everything will be left in your hands. As I told you last night, my
racing stable is only a side-show, and I don't want to be bothered with
it. You can make a start next week at Mirst Park. I have horses running
in races both days, and I shall probably run down myself. But you know
the ropes well enough."
"I think you can leave it to me," Fielden remarked.
"Very well, then, that's settled. You can ask the housekeeper to give
you a room. You can have all the meals you want, and the horses will be
yours to handle as you like. I must wish you good morning, for I have a
score of things to occupy my attention before I motor to town at six
o'clock. I think that will do. Good day."
Fielden took his leave, hardly knowing whether to be pleased or not. He
spent the next hour or so in the stables, interviewing the stud groom
and the helpers, who seemed to know all about the new arrangement. He
said little or nothing about it, but was somewhat surprised to find what
a poor set of horses Copley owned. For the most part they were little
better than platers. There might be a racer or two amongst them, but
only for small meetings. The groom was quite open in his comments, and
to these Fielden listened discreetly. He was free, presently, to go over
to Haredale Park and get his belongings together. He strode across the
Downs and passed the wide stretch of turf where the trial of the
Blenheim colt had taken place. He was hurrying down the slope when he
came face to face with Aaron Phillips.
"I was looking for you," the latter said. "I haven't been letting the
grass grow under my feet since we met last. I am beginning to get a hold
of the game. We shall be able to make those fellows sit up before long.
I suppose you couldn't manage to get away on Friday and Saturday next
for the two days' racing at Mirst Park? If you can, I shall show you
something that will open your eyes."
"As it happens," Fielden explained, "I am going there. I have just been
appointed a kind of general manager to Mr. Copley. I have to thank Sir
George Haredale for this. As you can imagine, Phillips, it is not a
congenial occupation. But there are urgent reasons why I ought to accept
it. We have a horse or two entered for the Mirst Park meeting, and I
shall go with them. Now, then, what is it?"
Aaron Phillips' face lightened.
"What a stroke of luck!" he exclaimed. "In that case, I need not detain
you now. But I'll contrive to see you on the course, and then I think it
will be our turn."