XX. 



ACHATES; OR, WHO WON THE 

 KENILWORTH CUP. 



CHAPTER I. 



Seven o'clock in the morning of a day in early February. 

 The sun is beginning to make his way feebly through 

 the clouds ; and the birds in the trees round about 

 Carryl Castle are just tuning up their songs in a care- 

 less sort of way, as birds do when they have no nests 

 to make, and nothing to occupy their attention beyond 

 the interchange of slight passages of affection with the 

 chosen brides to whom they will be united on the com- 

 ing St. Valentine's Day, in accordance with immemorial 

 custom. 



The busiest figures in the landscape are two young 

 men who have just issued from the castle, and are mak- 

 ing their way down to the road by a bridle path. 



" Very kind of you to turn out at this abnormal hour, 

 Beau; but you understand why I am anxious. I want 

 to see if the horse can get anywhere near your mare 

 over three miles ; for if he can, he's good enough to put 

 into training for the Grand Military. I have entered 



