248 ASHGILL; OR, THE LIFE 



had not taken the first morning train en route to the 

 Principality were rife. The aristocratic bookmakers 

 were congratulated on their superior prescience, and 

 received the compliments of their friends with modesty. 

 The bookmakers tried to look not unduly elated, but 

 they are bad hands at concealing their emotions ; and 

 Mr. Steele was so preternaturally solemn that a child 

 might have known that he had George Frederick in his 

 pocket. Some kind inquiries were made after the two 

 special commissioners, and some people seemed anxious 

 to offer them some marks of their esteem, but they were 

 not to be found. Few people comparatively paid atten- 

 tion to Mr. Hudson's or Lord Scarborough's yearlings 

 (though Mr. Chaplin, by the by, found time to give 

 1500 gs. for a Miner colt, and a very good-looking one) ; 

 and it was only the Apology sensation that knocked 

 George Frederick so clear out of our heads as he was 

 out of the race. 



" For Apology was, if you please, scratched too, or, 

 if she was not, it was a mere question of time. She 

 had pulled up lame after her morning gallop, and there 

 was a Newmarket trainer of credit and renown ready 

 to make what Mr. Riderhood called an ' Alfred Davy ' 

 of the fact, if necessary. Mr. ' Launde ' had been 

 telegraphed to, and the order for striking the mare out 

 of the Leger was expected every moment. She was at 

 50 to 1, she was at 100 to 6, she was at 100 to 8, she 

 was at 100 to 10. And all this was taking place about 

 an hour before the time set for the races to come off, 

 and everybody was (metaphorically) standing on his 

 head, and bookmakers were rushing about offering 

 insane prices; and, as we have said before, it was a 

 scene of chaos and confusion. What it all meant was 

 this The mare had been pulled up rather suddenly in 



