o the Blenheim colt,
though the other part of the business still remained a mystery. But if
he could believe his ears aright, then at that moment he was not an
outcast and pauper, but one of the most envied men who had ever set foot
upon a racecourse. At the lowest estimate, he was worth five thousand
pounds. He could sell the Blenheim colt with all his engagements for
such a figure before the day was out. He might return to the old house
and restore some of its glories. He might have enough to keep him
comfortably, and, above all, acquire a position that would entitle him
to go to Sir George Haredale and ask for the hand of his daughter.

This was all very well from one point of view, but there was another
side. His prosperity would be Sir George's ruin. Still, the temptation
was dazzling, and for a few minutes Fielden was afraid to trust himself
to words.

"You have done very wrong, Raffle," he said presently.

Joe scratched his head contritely.

"I know it, sir," he admitted. "I didn't realize how wrong I had behaved
till I saw you come in the stable yard, and you could have knocked me
down with a feather. But what else could I do? You had gone away and I
heard you were dead. I had to believe it, because the man who told me
gave me chapter and verse for it, and I felt as if I had lost a child of
my own. By-and-by I was comfortably settled in Sir George's employ,
having as much money as I needed for my wants, and never, so far as I
knew, a single relation in the world. I said nothing about the colt,
because I hadn't much opinion of it at first. Then I began to get as
fond of Miss May as I used to be of you, sir. An idea came to me one
night when I was sitting over my pipe--and, bear in mind, nobody else
knew--and that was that, bar accidents, I had a Derby winner in the
stable. For Miss May's sake I was willing to do much. There was no
chance of anybody finding it out. And, after all, I was doing nothing
wrong. You see, in the first place, nobody will be a penny the worse. As
to Sir George and yourself, there is no reason why you shouldn't make a
large fortune. It makes no difference to me, of course; I am long past
troubling about that sort of thing. But now that I know you are alive it
is another matter. Still, the colt's keep hasn't been much, and it's
only a matter of luck that he don't happen to belong to Sir George.
Besides, Sir George is expecting to win a fortune, and he is not the man
to grudge you your s