So, seeing no risk,
and the temptation being strong, Sir Bale resolved to avail himself of
the purse, and use his own judgment as to what horse to back.

About eleven o'clock Feltram, unannounced, walked, with his hat still
on, into Sir Bale's library, and sat down at the opposite side of his
table, looking gloomily into the Baronet's face for a time.

"Shall you want the purse?" he asked at last.

"Certainly; I always want a purse," said Sir Bale energetically.

"The condition is, that you shall back each of the three horses I have
named. But you may back them for much or little, as you like, only the
sum must not be less than five pounds in each hundred which this purse
contains. That is the condition, and if you violate it, you will make
some powerful people very angry, and you will feel it. Do you agree?"

"Of course; five pounds in the hundred--certainly; and how many hundreds
are there?"

"Three."

"Well, a fellow with luck may win something with three hundred pounds,
but it ain't very much."

"Quite enough, if you use it aright."

"Three hundred pounds," repeated the Baronet, as he emptied the purse,
which Feltram had just placed in his hand, upon the table; and
contemplating them with grave interest, he began telling them off in
little heaps of five-and-twenty each. He might have thanked Feltram, but
he was thinking more of the guineas than of the grizzly donor.

"Ay," said he, after a second counting, "I think there _are_ exactly
three hundred. Well, so you say I must apply three times five--fifteen
of these. It is an awful pity backing those queer horses you have named;
but if I must make the sacrifice, I must, I suppose?" he added, with a
hesitating inquiry in the tone.

"If you don't, you'll rue it," said Feltram coldly, and walked away.

"Penny in pocket's a merry companion," says the old English proverb, and
Sir Bale felt in better spirits and temper than he had for many a day as
he replaced the guineas in the purse.

It was long since he had visited either the race-course or any other
place of amusement. Now he might face his kind without fear that his
pride should be mortified, and dabble in the fascinating agitations of
the turf once more.

"Who knows how this little venture may turn out?" he thought. "It is
time the luck should turn. My last summer in Germany, my last winter in
Paris--d--n me, I'm owed something. It's time I should win a bit."

Sir Bale had suffered the indolence of