The Duke's Children

by Anthony Trollope

  It was on the Tuesday evening that the chief mischief was done. There was a club at which many of the racing-men dined, and there Lord Silverbridge spent his evening. He was the hero of the hour, and everybody flattered him. It must be acknowledged that his head was turned. They dined at eight and much wine was drunk. No one was tipsy, but many were elated; and much confidence in their favourite animals was imparted to men who had been sufficiently cautious before dinner. Then cigars and soda-and-brandy became common, and our young friend was not more abstemious than others. Large sums were named, and at last in three successive bets Lord Silverbridge backed his horse for more than forty thousand pounds. As he was making the second bet Mr Lupton came across to him and begged him to hold his hand. ‘It will be a nasty sum for you to lose, and winning it will be nothing to you,’ he said. Silverbridge took it good-humouredly, but said that he knew what he was about. ‘These men will pay,’ whispered Lupton; ‘but you can't be quite sure what they're at.’ The young man's brow was covered with perspiration. He was smoking quick and had already smoked more than was good for him. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘I'll mind what I'm about.’ Mr Lupton could do no more, and retired. Before the night was over bets had been booked to the amount stated, and the Duke's son, who had promised that he would never plunge, stood to lose about seventy thousand pounds upon the race.

  While this was going on Tifto sat not far from his patron, but completely silent. During the day and early in the evening a few sparks of the glory which scintillated from the favourite horse flew in his direction. But he was on this occasion unlike himself, and though the horse was to be run in his name had very little to say in the matter. Not a boast came out of his mouth during dinner or after dinner. He was so moody that his partner, who was generally anxious to keep him quiet, more than once endeavoured to encourage him. But he was unable to rouse himself It was still within his power to run straight; to be on the square, if not with Captain Green, at any rate with Lord Silverbridge. But to do so he must make a clean breast with his Lordship and confess the intended sin. As he heard all that was being done, his conscience troubled him sorely. With pitch5 of this sort he had never soiled himself before. He was to have three thousand pounds from Green, and then there would be the bets he himself had laid against the horse, – by Green's assistance! It would be the making of him. Of what use had been all his ‘square’ work to him? And then Silverbridge had behaved so badly to him! But still, as he sat there during the evening, he would have given a hand to have been free from the attempt. He had had no conception before that he could become subject to such misery from such a cause. He would make it straight with Silverbridge this very night, – but that Silverbridge was ever lighting fresh cigars and ever having his glass refilled. 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 at 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. Nor was his Lordship's servant up, – so that Tifto had no means of getting at him except by personal invasion of the sanctity of his bedroom. 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 now 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 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,6 and that there was actually no possibility that the horse should run on 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! Well! 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 his 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.

  CHAPTER 44

  How It was Done

  The story was soon about the town, and was the one matter for discussion in all racing quarters. About the town! It was about England, about all Europe. It had travelled to America and the Indies, to Australia and the Chinese cities before two hours were over. Before the race was run the accident was discussed and something like the truth surmised in Cairo, Calcutta, Melbourne, and San Francisco. But at Doncaster it was so all-pervading a matter that down to the tradesmen's daughters and the boys at the free-school1 the town was divided into two parties, one party believing it to have been a ‘plant’, and the other holding that the cause had been natural. It is hardly necessary to say that the ring,2 as a rule, belonged to the former party. The ring always suspects. It did not behove even those who would win by the transaction to stand up for its honesty.

  The intention had been to take the horse round a portion of the outside of the course near to which his stable stood. A boy rode him and the groom and Tifto went with him. At a certain spot on their return Tifto had exclaimed that the horse was going lame in his off fore-foot. As to this exclamation the boy and the two men were agreed. The boy was then made to dis
mount and run for Mr Pook; and as he started Tifto commenced to examine the horse's foot. The boy saw him raise the off fore-leg. He himself had not found the horse lame under him, but had been so hustled and hurried out of the saddle by Tifto and the groom that he had not thought on that matter till he was questioned. So far the story told by Tifto and the groom was corroborated by the boy, – except as to the horse's actual lameness. So far the story was believed by all men, – except in regard to the actual lameness. And so far it was true. Then, according to Tifto and the groom, the other foot was looked at, but nothing was seen. This other foot, the near fore-foot, was examined by the groom, who declared himself to be so flurried by the lameness of such a horse at such a time, that he hardly knew what he saw or what he did not see. At any rate then in his confusion he found no cause of lameness, but the horse was led into the stable as lame as a tree. Here Tifto found the nail inserted into the very cleft of the frog of the near fore-foot, and so inserted that he could not extract it till the farrier came. That the farrier had extracted the nail from the part of the foot indicated was certainly a fact.

  Then there was the nail. Only those who were most peculiarly privileged were allowed to see the nail. But it was buzzed about the racing quarters that the head of the nail, – an old rusty, straight, and well-pointed nail, – bore on it the mark of a recent hammer. In answer to this it was alleged that the blacksmith in extracting the nail with his pincers, had of course operated on its head, had removed certain particles of rust, and might easily have given it the appearance of having been struck. But in answer to this the farrier, who was a sharp fellow, and quite beyond suspicion in the matter, declared that he had very particularly looked at the nail before he extracted it, – had looked at it with the feeling on his mind that something base might too probably have been done, - and that he was ready to swear that the clear mark on the head of the nail was there before he touched it. And then not in the stable, but lying under the little dung-heap away from the stable-door, there was found a small piece of broken iron bar, about a foot long, which might have answered for a hammer, – a rusty bit of iron; and amidst the rust of this was found such traces as might have been left had it been used in striking such a nail. There were some who declared that neither on the nail nor on the iron could they see anything. And among these was the Major. But Mr Lupton brought a strong magnifying-glass to bear, and the world of examiners was satisfied that the marks were there.

  It seemed however to be agreed that nothing could be done. Silver-bridge would not lend himself at all to those who suspected mischief. He was miserable enough, but in this great trouble he would not separate himself from Tifto. ‘I don't believe a word of all that,’ he said to Mr Lupton.

  ‘It ought to be investigated at any rate,’ said Lupton.

  ‘Mr Pook may do as he likes, but I will have nothing to do with it.’

  Then Tifto came to him swaggering. Tifto had to go through a considerable amount of acting, for which he was not very well adapted. The Captain would have done it better. He would have endeavoured to put himself altogether into the same boat with his partner, and would have imagined neither suspicion or enmity on his partner's part till suspicion or enmity had been shown. But Tifto, who had not expected that the matter would be allowed to pass over without some inquiry, began by assuming that Silverbridge would think evil of him. Tifto, who at this moment would have given all that he had in the world not to have done the deed, who now hated the instigator of the deed, and felt something almost akin to love for Silverbridge, found himself to be forced by circumstances to defend himself by swaggering. ‘I don't understand all this that's going on, my Lord,’ he said.

  ‘Neither do I,’ replied Silverbridge.

  ‘Any horse is subject to an accident. I am, I suppose, as great a sufferer as you are, and a deuced sight less able to bear it.’

  ‘Who has said anything to the contrary? As for bearing it, we must take it as it comes, – both of us. You may as well known now as later that I have done with racing – for ever.’

  ‘What do you tell me that for? You can do as you like and I can do as I like about that. If I had had my way about the horse this never would have happened. Taking a horse out at that time in the morning, – before a race!’

  ‘Why, you went with him yourself.’

  ‘Yes; – by Pook's orders. You allowed Pook to do just as he pleased. I should like to know what money Pook has got on it, and which way he laid it.’ This disgusted Silverbridge so much that he turned away and would have no more to say to Tifto.

  Before one o'clock, at which hour it was stated nominally that the races would commence, general opinion had formed itself, – and general opinion had nearly hit the truth. General opinion declared that the nail had been driven in wilfully, – that it had been done by Tifto himself, and that Tifto had been instigated by Captain Green. Captain Green perhaps overacted his part a little. His intimacy with the Major was well known, and yet, in all this turmoil, he kept himself apart as though he had no interest in the matter. ‘I have got my little money on, and what little I have I lose,’ he said in answer to inquiries. But everyone knew that he could not but have a great interest in a race, as to which the half owner of the favourite was a peculiarly intimate friend of his own. Had he come down to the stables and been seen about the place with Tifto it might have been better. As it was, though he was very quiet, his name was soon mixed up in the matter. There was one man who asserted it as a fact known to himself that Green and Villiers, – one Gilbert Villiers, – were in partnership together. It was very well known that Gilbert Villiers would win two thousand five hundred pounds from Lord Silverbridge.

  Then minute investigation was made into the betting of certain individuals. Of course there would be great plunder, and where would the plunder go? Who would get the money which poor Silverbridge would lose? It was said that one at least of the large bets made on that Tuesday evening could be traced to the same Villiers though not actually made by him. More would be learned when the settling-day should come. But there was quite enough already to show that there were many men determined to get to the bottom of it all if possible.

  There came upon Silverbridge in his trouble a keen sense of his position and a feeling of the dignity which he ought to support. He clung during great part of the morning to Mr Lupton. Mr Lupton was much his senior and they had never been intimate; but now there was comfort in his society. ‘I am afraid you are hit heavily,’ said Mr Lupton.

  ‘Something over seventy thousand pounds!’

  ‘Looking at what will be your property it is of course nothing. But if –’

  ‘If what!’

  ‘If you go to the Jews3 for it then it will become a great deal.’

  ‘I shall certainly not do that.’

  ‘Then you may regard it as a trifle,’ said Lupton.

  ‘No, I can't. It is not a trifle. I must tell my father. He'll find the money.’

  ‘There is no doubt about that.’

  ‘He will. But I feel at present that I would rather change places with the poorest gentleman I know than have to tell him. I have done with races, Lupton.’

  ‘If so, this will have been a happy day for you. A man in your position can hardly make money by it, but he may lose so much! If a man really likes the amusement, – as I do, – and risks no more than what he has in his pocket, that may be very well.’

  ‘At any rate i have done with it.’

  Nevertheless he went to see the race run, and everybody seemed to be touched with pity for him. He carried himself well, saying as little as he could of his own horse, and taking, or affecting to take, great interest in the race. After the race he managed to see all those to whom he had lost heavy stakes, – having to own to himself as he did so that not one of them was a gentleman to whom he should like to give his hand. To them he explained that his father was abroad, – that probably his liabilities could not be settled till after his father's return. He however would consult his father's age
nt and would then appear on settling-day. They were all full of the blandest courtesies. There was not one of them who had any doubt as to getting his money, – unless the whole thing might be disputed on the score of Tifto's villainy. Even then payment could not be disputed unless it was proved that he who demanded the money had been one of the actual conspirators. After having seen his creditors he went away up alone to London.

  When in London he went to Carlton Terrace and spent the night in absolute solitude. It had been his plan to join Gerald for some partridge-shooting at Matching, and then to go yachting till such time as he should be enabled to renew his suit to Miss Boncassen. Early in November he would again ask her to be his wife. These had been his plans. But now it seemed that everything was changed. Partridge-shooting and yachting must be out of the question till this terrible load was taken off his shoulders. Soon after his arrival at the house two telegrams followed him from Doncaster. One was from Gerald. ‘What is all this about Prime Minister? Is it a sell? I am so unhappy.’ The other was from Lady Mabel, – for among other luxuries Mrs Montacute Jones had her own telegraph-wire at Killancodlem. ‘Can this be true? We are all so miserable. I do hope it is not much.’ From which he learned that his misfortune was already known to all his friends.

  And now what was he to do? He ate his supper, and then without hesitating for a moment, – feeling that if he did hesitate the task would not be done on that night, – he sat down and wrote the following letter:

  ‘Carlton Terrace, Sept. 14, 18 –.