It was night and the race-course lay deserted and silent beneath the
pallid moon. The noisy crowd had tramped and driven its way back to
London. But there was one whom the noise and bustle of a race meet would
never rouse again--Peacock the jockey, who lay dead in the stable house.
His death had cast a depression over the entire Castle, and though both
Adrien and his father--to say nothing of Jasper--had striven their
utmost to keep the minds of the guests away from the unhappy event, it
was yet an almost gloomy party that gathered after dinner in the silver
drawing-room.
Nearly all had lost heavily through the fall of poor "King Cole." They
had had such entire faith in their champion, that his loss of the race
had come like a thunder-bolt; and most of all to Adrien himself. The
actual monetary loss did not seem to trouble him; indeed, it was
probable that he himself was unaware of the immensity of the sum
involved. Only Jasper knew, Jasper who wore his usual calm, serene
smile, and certainly worked hard to banish all regrets concerning such a
trifle as a dead steeplechaser, as well as any lingering memories of his
dying words.
"One thing is certain," said Lord Standon to Lady Constance, who had
been sighing over the defeat. "Adrien will not allow any one to ride the
'King' again but himself. I heard him say so."
"He has lost heavily, I'm afraid," the girl said in a low voice.
"Immensely," replied Lord Standon, who himself had, lost more than he
could afford--indeed, there was little doubt that this race would almost
prove his ruin; but, nevertheless, his inordinate good humour and
optimistic nature triumphed above every other consideration. Certainly,
no word of blame or self-pity would he allow to pass his lips. "Yes, he
has lost more heavily than any of us, as Mr. Vermont knows; I'll be
bound," he broke off, as that gentleman approached.
Jasper Vermont smiled, as he did at every question or assertion made to
him.
"I'm afraid he has plunged deeply this time," was his smooth reply.
"Unfortunately, he only has himself to blame, though I deplore the fact
that I was not with him at the time."
Both Lady Constance and Lord Standon looked up, startled by his tone as
much as by his words; and Jasper continued glibly: "He gave the jockey a ten-pound note last night, and, of course, the man
got drunk. Consequences--an unsteady hand this morning, a hasty push at
the last rise, and a clear loss of the race, not to mention the colossal
sum in bets. All his own fault! If he will be so recklessly generous,
what is to be done? But, as I said before, I blame myself for not
watching him more closely."