Robbery Under Arms - Rolf Boldrewood (most important books of all time .TXT) 📗

a mile from the course; and there was old Rainbow, snug enough⁠—in a tent, above all places!⁠—but as fine as a star, and as fit as ever a horse was brought to the post.

“What’s the fun of having him under canvas?” I said. “Who ever heard of a horse being trained in a tent before?⁠—not but what he looks first-chop.”

“I’ve seen horses trained in more ways than one,” says he, “and I can wind ’em up, in the stable and out of it, as mighty few in this country can⁠—that is, when I put the muzzle on. There’s a deal in knowing the way horses is brought up. Now this here’s an excitable hoss in a crowd.”

“Is he?” I said. “Why, he’s as cool and steady as an old trooper when⁠—”

“When powder’s burning and bullets is flying,” says the old chap, grinning again; “but this here’s a different crowd. When he’s got a training saddle and seven or eight stone up, and there’s two or three hundred horses rattling about this side on him and that, it brings out the old racehorse feeling that’s in his blood, and never had a chance to show itself afore.”

“I see, and so you want to keep him quiet till the last minute?”

“That’s just it,” says he; “I’ve got the time to a second,”⁠—here he pulls out a big old turnip of a silver watch⁠—“and I’ll have him up just ready to be weighed out last. I never was late in my life.”

“All right,” I said, “but don’t draw it too fine. Have you got your weight all right?”

“Right to a hounce,” says he, “nine stun four they’ve put on him, and him an untried horse. I told ’em it was weighting him out of the race, but they laughed at me. Never you mind, though, he can carry weight and stay too. My ten percent’s as safe as the bank. He’ll put the stuns on all them nobs, too, that think a racehorse must always come out of one of their training stables.”

“Well, goodbye, old man,” says I, “and good luck. One of us will come and lead you into the weighing yard, if you pull it off, and chance the odds, if Sir Ferdinand himself was at the gate.”

“All right,” says he, “I’ll look out for you,” and off he goes. I went back and told Aileen and Gracey, and we settled that they were to drive out to the course with Cyrus Williams and his wife. I rode, thinking myself safer on horseback, for fear of accidents. Starlight, of course, went in the Dawsons’ drag, and was going to enjoy himself to the last minute. He had his horse ready at a moment’s notice, and Warrigal was not far off to give warning, or to bring up his horse if we had to ride for it.

Well, the first part of the day went well enough, and then about half-past one we all went down to the church. The young fellow that was to marry Bella Barnes was known on the field and well liked by the miners, so a good many of them made it up to go and see the wedding. They’d heard of Bella and Maddie, and wanted to see what they looked like.

The church was on the side of the town next the racecourse, so they hadn’t far to go. By and by, as the crowd moved that way, Starlight says to the Commissioner⁠—

“Where are all these good folks making for?”

“Why, the fact is there’s to be a wedding,” he says, “and it excites a good deal of attention as the young people are well known on the field and popular. Bella Barnes and her sister are very fine girls in their way. Suppose we go and look on too! There won’t be anything now before the big race.”

“By Jove! a first-rate ideah,” says Starlight. “I should like to see an Australian wedding above all things.”

“This will be the real thing, then,” says Mr. Jack Dawson. “Let’s drive up to our hotel, put up the horses, have a devil and a glass of champagne, and we can be back easy in time for the race.” So away they went. Cyrus drove the girls and his wife in his dogcart, so we were there all ready to see the bride come up.

It looked a regular grand affair, my word. The church was that crammed there was hardly a place to sit or stand in. Every woman, young and old, in the countryside was there, besides hundreds of diggers who sat patiently waiting as if some wonderful show were going to take place. Aileen and Gracey had come in early and got a pew next to the top almost. I stood outside. There was hardly a chance for anyone else to get in.

By and by up comes old Jonathan, driving a respectable-looking carriage, with his wife and Bella and Maddie all in white silk and satin, and looking splendid. Out he gets, and takes Bella to walk up the middle of the church. When he went in with Bella, Maddie had one look in, and it seemed so crammed full of people that she looked frightened and drew back. Just then up comes the Mr. Dawsons and Starlight, with the Commissioner and a few more.

Directly he sees Maddie draw back, Starlight takes the whole thing in, and walked forward.

“My dear young lady,” says he, “will you permit me to escort you up the aisle? The bride appears to have preceded you.”

He offered her his arm, and, if you’ll believe me, the girl didn’t know him a bit in the world, and stared at him like a perfect stranger.

“It’s all right, Miss Maddie,” says the Commissioner. He had a way of knowing all the girls, as far as a laugh or a bit of chaff went, especially if they were good-looking. “Mr. Lascelles is an English gentleman, newly arrived, and a friend of mine. He’s anxious to learn Australian ways.”

She took his arm then