at stake; and when I saw them outstrip all the others, and come to the
winning-post in such gallant style, I actually clapped my hands with
joy. Imagine my surprise, when, upon returning home, the first object I
met on the staircase was the identical jockey in the pink jacket! I
concluded that, by some singular chance, the owner of the winning horse
must live in the same hotel as myself; but, as I entered my apartments,
I beheld the very gold cup awarded as a prize to the unknown horse and
rider. Inside the cup was a small piece of paper, on which were written
these words—‘From Lord Ruthven to Countess G——.’”
“Precisely; I was sure of it,” said Morcerf.
“Sure of what?”
“That the owner of the horse was Lord Ruthven himself.”
“What Lord Ruthven do you mean?”
“Why, our Lord Ruthv
