240 SKETCHES IX THE HUNTING FIELD. 



What was to be done next ? Depending on letters or 

 telegrams on such vague directions was manifestly out of 

 the question. There was nothing for it but to go to Paris 

 by the morning train and trust to luck in running him 

 down somewhere or other. About the ^500 I did not 

 much care. Losing it all would not have afflicted me; but 

 to make the ring a present by backing a brute that wasn't 

 intended to win seemed such a grossly idiotic affair that 

 I was bent on averting the absurdity at all hazards. For 

 a moment, on arriving at home to dress for a tardy dinner, 

 I hoped that the expected letter might be there. No ! A 

 couple of bills, some tickets for a theatre, an invitation 

 to shoot, and an envelope in Harquier's writing, the 

 contents of which I knew -without opening it, as he had 

 told me when I met him in the afternoon that he had 

 just written to say he could not dine with me as I 

 had asked him. A glance at the special edition of the 

 Evenmg ShiJidard showed Muffin Boy at 25 to i, Ophelia 

 struck out of the Gloucester Cup at 3.20, King Pippin at 

 7 to 4 taken and wanted, &:c., &c. Paris by the first 

 train is the nearest way out of the irritating misfortune. 



CHAPTER II, 



To rise at an offensively preposterous hour on a wet 

 morning, drive to an uncomfortable railway station, get 

 on board a damp slippery boat, and cross the Channel in 



