68 THE LIFE OP A EACEHORSE. 



sides. Again and again he drove them in, while the straight- 

 cutting whip cracked round Clearwell's body with the sound of 

 exj^Ioding percussion-caps. Three strides more, and we should be 

 upon the post. My heart was in the effort, and success was mine ! 



The cheers which greeted my victory — the almost adulation 

 I received — are never to be forgotten. Men, with faces beaming 

 with enthusiastic joy, thronged about me as I was pulled up, 

 and seemed ready to kneel down and worship the winner of 

 such a contested race ; for the award of the judge was — " won 

 by a neck." 



Such was the meridian of my fate. 



CHAPTER XIIT. 



fate's tasle is turned. 



"We were alone — I and my owner were alone, saving that 

 Toby's curled-up form, as he dozed with heavy, blinking eye- 

 lids on the edge of my crib, strictly speaking, presents a con- 

 fessed denial of the fact. There was not, however, any one near 

 to note the details of this betv/cen Sir Digby and myself, and 

 they are nov/ revealed as tlio first and last of its kind that 

 we ever had together. With a hand resting upon my neck, he 

 thus addressed me : — 



" In our utmost need of friendship, how rare it is to find a 

 friend. "We drown, while those we saved, perhaps, look on re- 

 gardless of our struggles. "Who would have done for me that 

 which you have done ? Little else was left that the world values 

 besides a name that my greatest enemy never possessed the 

 opportunity to sully. Nearly all was lost. . Led on from step 

 to step, retreat at length became impossible. To pursue the 

 course — to still trust the hazard of the die, might be ruin ; but 

 to stop, or even pause, inevitable destruction. Tlie last — the 

 one last chance depended upon your effort. That was the 

 feather in the balance which saved your master ! " 



He fondly patted my sleek and arched neck as he sjDoke, and 

 th3ii continued. 



