It was clear to him that on this night Silverbridge could not be made to understand anything about it. And the deed in which he himself was to be the chief actor was to be done very early in the following morning. At last he slunk away to bed.
On the following morning, the morning of the day on which the race was to be run, the Major tapped on his patron's door about seven o'clock. Of course there was no answer though the knock was repeated. When young men overnight drink as much brandy-and-water as Silverbridge had done, and smoke as many cigars, they are apt not to hear knocks at their door made at seven o'clock. But there was no time, not a minute, to be lost. Now, within this minute that was pressing on him, Tifto must choose his course. He opened the door and was standing at the young man's head.
'What the d- does this mean?' said his Lordship angrily, as soon as his visitor had succeeded in waking him. Tifto muttered something about the horse which Silverbridge failed to understand.
The young man's condition was by no means pleasant. His mouth was furred by the fumes of tobacco. His head was aching. He was heavy with sleep, and this intrusion seemed to him to be a final indignity offered to him by the man whom he now hated. 'What business have you to come in here?' he said, leaning on his elbow.
'I don't care a straw for the horse. If you have anything to say send my servant. Get out!'
'Oh;--very well,' said Tifto;--and Tifto got out.
It was about an hour afterwards that Tifto returned, and on this occasion a groom from the stables, and the young Lord's own servant, and two or three other men were with him. Tifto had been made to understand that the news was about to be communicated, must be communicated by himself, whether his Lordship were angry or not. Indeed, after what had been done his Lordship's anger was not of much moment. In his present visit he was only carrying out the pleasant little plan which had been arranged for him by Captain Green. 'What the mischief is up?' said Silverbridge, rising in his bed.
Then Tifto told his story, sullenly, doggedly, but still in a perspicuous manner, and with words which admitted of no doubt. But before he told the story he had excluded all but himself and the groom. He and the groom had taken the horse out of the stable, it being the animal's nature to eat his corn better after a slight exercise, and while doing so a nail had been picked up.
'Is it much?' asked Silverbridge, jumping still higher in his bed.
Then he was told that it was very much,--that the iron had driven itself into the horse's frog, and that there was actually no possibility that the horse should be run that day.
'He can't walk, my Lord,' said the groom in that authoritative voice which grooms use when they desire to have their own way, and to make their masters understand that they at any rate are not to have theirs.
'Where is Pook?' asked Silverbridge. But Mr Pook was also still in bed.
It was soon known to Lord Silverbridge as a fact that in very truth the horse could not run. Then sick with headache, with a stomach suffering unutterable things, he had, as he dressed himself, to think of his seventy thousand pounds. Of course the money would be forthcoming. But how would his father look at him?
How would it be between him and his father now? after such a misfortune how would he be able to break that other matter to the Duke, and say that he had changed his mind about his marriage,--that he was going to abandon Lady Mabel Grex and give his hand and a future Duchess's coronet to an American girl whose grandfather had been a porter.
A nail in his foot! He had heard of such things before. He knew that such accidents had happened. What an ass must he have been to risk such a sum on the well-being and safety of an animal who might any day pick up a nail in is foot? Then he thought of the caution which Lupton had given him. What good would the money have done him had he won it? What more could he have than he now enjoyed? But to lose such a sum of money! With all his advantages of wealth he felt himself to be as forlorn and wretched as though he had nothing left in the world before him.
