Now had come the night before the Derby, and it must be acknowledged that the young Lord was much fluttered by the greatness of the coming struggle. Tifto, having seen his horse conveyed to Epsom, had come up to London in order that he might dine with his partner and hear what was being said about the race at the Beargarden. The party dining there consisted of Silverbridge, Dolly Longstaff, Popplecourt, and Tifto. Nidderdale was to have joined them, but he told them on the day before, with a sigh, that domestic duties were too strong for him. Lady Nidderdale,--or if not Lady Nidderdale herself, then Lady Nidderdale's mother,--was so far potent over the young nobleman as to induce him to confine his Derby practices to the Derby-day.
Another guest had also been expected, the reason for whose non-appearance must be explained somewhat at length. Lord Gerald Palliser, the Duke's second son, was at this time at Cambridge,--being almost as popular at Trinity as his brother had been at Christ Church. It was to him quite a matter of course that he should see his brother's horse run for the Derby. But, unfortunately, in this very year a stand was being made by the University pundits against a practice which they thought had become too general. For the last year or two, it had been considered almost as much a matter of course that a Cambridge undergraduate should go to the Derby as that a Member of Parliament should do so. Against this three or four rigid disciplinarians had raised their voices,--and as a result, no young man up at Trinity could get leave to be away on the Derby pretext.
Lord Gerald raged against the restriction very loudly. He at first proclaimed his intention of ignoring the college authorities altogether. Of course he would be expelled. But the order itself was to his thinking so absurd,--the idea that he should not see his brother's horse run was so extravagant,--that he argued that his father could not be angry with him for incurring dismissal in so excellent a cause. But his brother saw things in a different light. He knew how his father had looked at him when he had been sent away from Oxford, and he counselled moderation. Gerald should see the Derby, but should not encounter that heaviest wrath of all which comes from a man's not sleeping beneath his college roof.
There was a train which left Cambridge at an early hour, and would bring him into London in time to accompany his friends to the racecourse;--and another train, a special, which would take him down after dinner, so that he and others should reach Cambridge before the college gates were shut.
The dinner at the Beargarden was very joyous. Of course the state of the betting in regard to Prime Minister was the subject generally popular for the night. Mr Lupton came in, a gentleman well known in all fashionable circles, parliamentary, social, and racing, who was rather older than the company on this occasion, but still not so much so as to be found to be an incumbrance.
Lord Glasslough too, and others joined them, and a good deal was said about the horse. 'I never kept these things dark,' said Tifto. 'Of course he is an uncertain horse.'
'Most horses are,' said Lupton.
'Just so, Mr Lupton. What I mean is, the Minister has got a bit of a temper. But if he likes to do his best I don't think any three-year-old in England can get his nose past him.'
'For half a mile he'd be nowhere with the Provence filly,' said Glasslough.
'I'm speaking of a Derby distance, my Lord.'
'That's a kind of thing nobody really knows,' said Lupton.
'I've seen him 'ave his gallops,' said the little man, who in his moments of excitement would sometimes fall away from that exact pronunciation which had been one of the studies of his life,' and have measured his stride. I think I know what pace means. Of course I'm not going to answer for the 'orse. He's a temper, but if things go favourably, no animal that ever showed on the Downs was more likely to do the trick. Is there any gentleman here who would like to be me fifteen to one in hundreds against the two events,--the Derby and the Leger?' The desired odds were at once offered by Mr Lupton, and the bet was booked.
This gave rise to other betting, and before the evening was over Lord Silverbridge had taken three-and-a-half to one against his horse to such an extent that he stood to lose twelve hundred pounds. The champagne which he had drunk, and the news that Quousque, the first favourite, had so gone to pieces that now there was a question which was the first favourite, had so inflated him, that, had he been left alone, he would almost have wagered even money on his horse. In the midst of his excitement there came to him a feeling that he was allowing himself to do just that which he had intended to avoid. But then the occasion was so peculiar! How often can it happen to a man in his life that he shall own a favourite for the Derby! The affair was one in which it was almost necessary that he should risk a little money.
Tifto, when he got into his bed, was altogether happy. He had added whisky-and-water to his champagne, and feared nothing. If Prime Minister should win the Derby he would be able to pay all that he owed, and to make a start with money in his pocket. And then there would be attached to him all the infinite glory of being the owner of the winner of the Derby. The horse was run in his name. Thoughts as to great successes crowded themselves upon his heated brain. What might not be open to him? Parliament! The Jockey Club! The mastership of one of the crack shire packs! Might it not come to pass that he should some day become the great authority in England upon races, racehorses, and hunters? If he could be the winner of the Derby and Leger he thought that Glasslough and Lupton would snub him no longer, that even Tregear would speak to him, and that his pal the Duke's son would never throw him aside again.
Lord Silverbridge had brought a drag with all its appendages.
