to the turnpike-men, and
sought to propitiate Fortune by displaying a signal indifference to
small change; in which method of courting her he was perfectly serious.
He absolutely rejected coppers. They "crossed his luck." Nor can we say
that he is not an authority on this point: the Goddess certainly does
not deal in coppers.

Anxious efforts at recollection perplexed him. He could not remember
whether he had "turned his money" on looking at the last new moon. When
had he seen the last new moon, and where? A cloud obscured it; he had
forgotten. He consoled himself by cursing superstition. Tenpenny
Nail was to gain the day in spite of fortune. Algernon said this, and
entrenched his fluttering spirit behind common sense, but he found it a
cold corner. The longing for Champagne stimulant increased in fervour.
Arithmetic languished.

As he was going up the hill, the wheels were still for a moment, and
hearing "Tenpenny Nail" shouted, he put forth his head, and asked what
the cry was, concerning that horse.

"Gone lame," was the answer.

It hit the centre of his nerves, without reaching his comprehension, and
all Englishmen being equal on Epsom Downs, his stare at the man who had
spoken, and his sickly colour, exposed him to pungent remarks.

"Hullos! here's another Ninepenny--a penny short!" and similar specimens
of Epsom wit, encouraged by the winks and retorts of his driver,
surrounded him; but it was empty clamour outside. A rage of emotions
drowned every idea in his head, and when he got one clear from the mass,
it took the form of a bitter sneer at Providence, for cutting off his
last chance of reforming his conduct and becoming good. What would he
not have accomplished, that was brilliant, and beautiful, and soothing,
but for this dead set against him!

It was clear that Providence cared "not a rap," whether he won or
lost--was good or bad. One might just as well be a heathen; why not?

He jumped out of the cab (tearing his coat in the acts minor evil,
but "all of a piece," as he said), and made his way to the Ring. The
bee-swarm was thick as ever on the golden bough. Algernon heard no
curses, and began to nourish hope again, as he advanced. He began to
hope wildly that this rumour about the horse was a falsity, for there
was no commotion, no one declaiming.

He pushed to enter the roaring circle, which the demand for an
entrance-fee warned him was a privilege, and he stammered, and forgot
the gentlemanly co