36 Phyllis and Ophella 



moderate the others were beginning to tail off. Over 

 the drop the second time Dobbin bhmdered a bit. Con- 

 greve sat tight, and pulled his mount together again 

 very neatly, but this let up the mare, who now was 

 holding her own quite easily, while Dobbin was beginning 

 to labour. Congreve gave his horse a dig with a spur, 

 and that put him a couple of lengths to the good 

 again, but nearing the brook for the last time, Dobbin 

 had to be waked up with the whip, and the mare, not 

 yet touched, swung over and landed by his side. 



What could it mean ? Sharpe had the line between 

 them clearly enough. They were running at even 

 weights, and Dobbin had, or should have had, a good 

 21 lb. in hand. It did not look like it, however. As they 

 neared the last fence Congreve was riding hard to keep 

 his place. The mare was first over, and to all appear- 

 ance winning anyhow. But Congreve was not to be 

 beaten without making a fight for it. Sitting down, he 

 did all he knew, and old Dobbin answered gamely to his 

 calls. But it was no sort of use. Osborne, sitting quite 

 still, watched over his left shoulder the struggles of his 

 friend, and some sixty yards from the winning post let 

 out the mare, who came away and won hands down by 

 a couple of lengths. 



Sharpe stood still for a minute before he could believe 

 it. The mare had won, and won easily. There was the 

 number up, and the spectators were cheering. The race 

 was over, and his schemes were upset — how, he could not 

 tell, but upset they were. It was not in an amiable 

 frame of mind that he made his way to the paddock, but 

 it was necessary to see the Major and say what could be 

 said. Osborne was naturally radiant as he received 

 his friends' congratulations — and friends are sincere 



