"There! Barnabas," she sighed. "And now--oh, I know you
are dying to read your letter--of course you are, so pray sir,--go
back and fetch my fan,--here it is, it will serve as an excuse,
while I go on to look at the horses." And with a quick, smiling nod,
she hurried away across the paddock after the others. Then Barnabas
broke the seal of Cleone's letter, and--though to be sure it might
have been longer--he found it all sufficient. Here it is:
The Palace Grange,
Eltham,
Midnight.
Ever Dearest,--The race is to-morrow and, because I love you greatly,
so am I greatly afraid for you. And dear, I love you because you are
so strong, and gentle, and honorable. And therefore, here on my knees
I have prayed God to keep you ever in his care, my Barnabas.
CLEONE.
CHAPTER LIII
IN WHICH SHALL BE FOUND SOME ACCOUNT OF THE GENTLEMAN'S STEEPLECHASE
Truly it is a great day for "The Terror," hitherto known as
"Four-legs," and well he knows it.
Behold him as he stands, with his velvet muzzle upon old Martin's
shoulder, the while the under-grooms, his two-legged slaves, hover
solicitously about him! Behold the proud arch of his powerful neck,
the knowing gleam of his rolling eye, the satiny sheen of his velvet
coat! See how he flings up his shapely head to snuff the balmy air of
morning, the while he paws the green earth with a round, bepolished
hoof.
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