CHAPTER XXVII 



THE STORY 



On the morning of the tenth of April Mr French 

 awoke from a night of pleasant dreams to find 

 the sun shining broad and strong through the 

 window of his bedroom. 



He had dreamt of the great race ; he had seen in 

 a glorified vision the field sweeping round Tatten- 

 ham corner, Garryowen a length ahead of the 

 favourite ; he had heard the roar of the crowd and 

 had been congratulated by all sorts of dream 

 people. The exhilaration of the vision clung to him 

 as he dressed and accompanied him as he break- 

 fasted. 



Not a word had come from Mr Dashwood since 

 the letter announcing the " bottling " of Giveen, 

 but no news in this case was good news. 



Only three days now lay between him and the 



eventful thirteenth, and if Bashwood could only 



keep his prisoner safe for three days more all 



would be well. The chance that Garryowen 



mightn't win the race never even occurred to 



French. He was certain ; and one of the reasons 



of his certainty was the opposition that Fate had 



put in his way. He felt dimly that Fate would 

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