ds raised themselves; the
bloodstained lips parted as if about to speak.

"What is it?" said Shelton, bending closer.

"Where--where is he?" gasped the man in disjointed words. "I
want--to--see him."

"Whom?" asked Mortimer Shelton gently. "Whom do you want to see, my poor
fellow?"

Mr. Vermont pushed his way forward, his face alight with eager sympathy.

"Perhaps I can be of use," he said, "I know him; perhaps he wants to
tell me----"

The jockey raised his head. It seemed as if the soft, smooth voice gave
him strength to speak. He glared at Jasper, then his glance fell on the
pitying face of Leroy. With a sudden light in his eyes, he stretched out
his hand.

"Him--him, the swell--I tell him the race--was--sold! He--Mr.
Vermont----"

His breath came fast in great sobs; he glared from Adrien to Jasper,
then back to Leroy, as if seeking to convey some warning, but in vain;
with the last words, he fell back.

A gentleman pushed his way forward.

"Allow me, I am Doctor Blake," he said, and he knelt down beside the
still form.

"He is dead," he declared solemnly, as he placed his hand on the body.

The crowd fell back still further, with murmurs of horror. There was a
silence, broken at last by Jasper Vermont.

"Dear, dear!" he exclaimed in tones in which, had it not been for the
absurdity of the idea, one might have fancied there was almost a spark
of satisfaction. "How very, very sad. I wouldn't have had this happen
for _anything!_"

CHAPTER XI

It was night and the race-course lay deserted and silent beneath the
pallid moon. The noisy crowd had tramped and driven its way back to
London. But there was one whom the noise and bustle of a race meet would
never rouse again--Peacock the jockey, who lay dead in the stable house.

His death had cast a depression over the entire Castle, and though both
Adrien and his father--to say nothing of Jasper--had striven their
utmost to keep the minds of the guests away from the unhappy event, it
was yet an almost gloomy party that gathered after dinner in the silver
drawing-room.

Nearly all had lost heavily through the fall of poor "King Cole." They
had had such entire faith in their champion, that his loss of the race
had come like a thunder-bolt; and most of all to Adrien himself. The
actual monetary loss did not seem to trouble him; indeed, it was
probable that he himself was unaware of the immensity of the sum
involved. O