EPILOGUE
THE FINISH
"The black colt leads! The black colt leads! He wins! He wins! Hewins!"
A great shout went up from the straining multitude as The HundredthChance, ridden by Sam Vickers, shot past the winning-post three lengthsahead of the horse behind. It was a sensational victory, for it was hismaiden race, and the crowd yelled themselves hoarse over it, cheeringand cheering again till the black colt came forth in a welter of sweatand foam to gather his laurels, still carrying his jockey and led by hisowner, Jake Bolton.
He bore himself proudly, as if fully conscious of the distinction he hadwon. Jake looked proud too. He stuffed some sugar between the wet lipsas he came, and his hand caressed the streaming neck. It was a popularmeeting, and it was plainly a popular victory, though the favourite hadnot proved the winner. Jake Bolton's name went from mouth to mouth, andthe throng cheered him to the echo. He smiled his open, pleasant smilein answer. He had been looking to this moment for the past two years,he had worked hard for it; and his trust in The Hundredth Chance hadbeen vindicated, his labour rewarded. He knew that yet greatervictories lay before his favourite. The Hundredth Chance was a bornwinner. He would be famous.
Back in the paddock a slim, boyish figure leaped to meet him. "Jake,he's a stunner! Let me hold him a minute, Jake! Well done, Sam! Welldone!"
Sam grinned from ear to ear as he dropped from the saddle. "Prettysight, weren't it, Sir Bernard?"
"Best I've ever seen!" declared Bunny enthusiastically. He led the blackcolt proudly after his jockey for a few paces, then gave him up and wentback to Jake. "Old feller, I'm so jolly bucked," he said, hugging hisarm, "I want to dance on my head. Do you know what I heard a chap sayof you just now--a chap who knew too? He said, 'There goes theLynx--one of the straightest men on the Turf.' It sounded just fine. Iwanted to go and shake hands with him."
Jake laughed, a quiet satisfied laugh. "Was Maud pleased?"
"Oh! rather! She's going home now, said I was to tell you; said she'dsave up and congratulate you in private."
"That so?" said Jake.
He disengaged himself from Bunny and went about his business, but thesmile lingered in his eyes for the rest of the afternoon. And it wasthe smile of a man who grasps his heart's desire.
There was a white house on one of the great rolling downs behind theGraydown race-course, a low, white house with gabled roofs and darkgreen shutters. There were woodland trees about it, and a terracedgarden bright with many spring flowers.
Behind it lay the racing-stables, also white,--model stables, the prideof Jake's heart. He seldom approached the house by any other route.But as he passed between the long, orderly buildings on that particularevening after his horse's victory, he did not linger. Straight to thehouse he went, and straight within, pausing only in the wide, squarehall to threw down hat and whip ere he passed on, guided by the notes ofa piano, to a room that overlooked the garden and the whole sweep ofhill-side beyond.
She did not hear him enter, albeit she was playing softly, a dreamymelody that had in it something of dawning gladness and of infinitehope. Only Chops, the red setter, lying by the open French window,looked up and wagged a noiseless welcome. Then as he reached her, shecaught the jingle of his spurs and in a moment she had turned to meethim with a vivid smile of eagerness.
"Oh, Jake, I am so glad--so glad!"
He put his arms about her as she sat, holding the flushed face upturnedto his. "What's that you're playing, my girl? Not a paean ofthanksgiving!"
Her eyelids fluttered under his look. She laughed faintly. She offeredhim her lips with just a hint of shyness. He kissed her, but hecontinued to look at her with an intent glitter in his eyes. "You'reglad, are you?" he said. "Real glad?"
Her arms clung about his neck. "Yes, real glad, Jake. I know you callThe Hundredth Chance your luck. I was horribly anxious lest--lest heshould lose after all."
He smiled a little. "What if he had? Think I can't stand up to aloss?"
She lifted her eyes to his for a moment, but they fell almostimmediately. "No. To use your own language, I think you're just fine.But--but all the same, I've been saving up a little consolation for youin case you needed it."
"That so?" said Jake. He spoke very softly through lips that weresuddenly tender. "Well, let's imagine I'm in need of consolation! I'denjoy to be consoled by you."
She laughed again that faint, shy laugh, and, freeing one hand, began tofeel over the keys of the piano, striking a soft chord here and there.
Jake stood for a moment or two, then squarely bent, bringing his face ona level with hers.
She made a slight gesture of protest, and then very suddenly, as ifcompelled, she raised her eyes fully to his.
"You once told me you'd enjoy--something quite different," she said.
The red-brown eyes gazed deeply into hers. "And--good land--how shockedyou were!" he said. "You didn't view yourself as a plain man's wife inthose days, my princess. Reckon you hated the plain man pretty badlyfor teaching you the meaning of the word."
She laid one hand against his breast. Her eyes were of that intenseblueness that comes from the heart of a sapphire. "And now," she said,"I love him better every day--every night."
His big hand closed upon her wrist. He drew a great breath. "Ah!" hesaid.
She went on, albeit her lips were quivering. "I don't need to tell youthat, do I? You know it so well. I don't think I really need to tellyou--of this other thing either--of this big, big gift that is coming tous. Oh, Jake, dear Jake, I have so hoped--so hoped!"
He held her closer. "My own girl! Guess you'll be happy now!" hewhispered.
She smiled at him through tears. "No, not for my own sake,--foryours--for yours!"
"For mine!" he said. "Haven't you given me all the world and thensome?"
She uttered a trembling laugh. "I've given you lots that you didn'twant to take--things that have cost me nothing. But this--this isdifferent. And--it's the thing you wanted."
He clasped her to him almost fiercely. "My girl, I want nothing--noone--but you!"
She clung to him with a tenseness that was passionate. "That is what Iwanted to say to you, my darling. You will always befirst--first--first. Dr. Capper once told me that--that my frog wouldturn into a prince some day. And--dear--he was right. You are theprince of my heart--for ever. I love you as--as I never thought it washumanly possible to love."
"Maybe it's not--all human," he whispered, with lips that moved againsther own.
"You are right," she whispered back. "It is Divine. The perfect Gift.But it only comes to those who give--without measure--not counting thecost--rejoicing only in the power to give--till it all comes back athousandfold--a thousandfold." Her voice thrilled, her arms clungcloser. "I once heard a man preach about that. And at the end he said,'It is then that the ploughman overtakes the reaper, for ploughman andreaper are one.' Jake, I think that man spoke a great truth. You and Ihave done some heavy ploughing, but we are beginning to be reapers now."Her lips suddenly pressed his closely, lingeringly. Her tears weregone. "It's good to reap our own harvest, isn't it, Jake?" shemurmured. "Yours and mine together?"
And Jake answered her in his own language, his voice very soft and slow,his eyes gazing straight into hers, seeing her soul. "Sure!" he said."Sure!"
THE END
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