HARLEQUIN'S RACE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 11609, 29 January 1916, Page 2

HARLEQUIN'S RACE.

(Br D. VI.VDBRJ [All Rights Reserved.] The day of. the Gingley Hunt Steeplechases dawned, grey and threatening, with the March wind blowing a mighty hurricane, and a pale, weakly- • looking sum struggling vainly to pierce through heavy masses of cloud. Captain Roger Buckley had brought a small, well-chosen house party .down from town for the meeting, and his*' little hunting box at Gringley-New-stead was stretched' to its utmost limits. / ; He had given his invitations casu- • ally, and they had been as casually accepted, and there were only two people in the party who guessed that it was probably by no means such an im- > promptu affair as it appeared to be. Of these, one was his friend and inti-' mate, Harry Tempest; the otiier, 3pj favourite aunt, Lady Jane "Wake, wiflo • had! been invited' to act as chapefon to j the party. The fact was, Roger Buck- : ley was in a serious dilemma, and he , had spent many weary hours sa _ : strenuous search for the solution' to It, j and found none. So, in desnair, ho' had resolved on a gamble with Fate, 1 and decided" to risk all on a scingle ? throw; and on this grey March day he ; was to ■ put his fortunes to the test. He was up to his eyes in debt; and now, to pilt the finishing touch to the ■» irony of the. situation, ho had falleii deeply in love, for the first time in aT* his young, eventful life. A monik' ago, at a hall to which he had gone V the merest chance, he had met beauty ) ful Kathleen Tempest, the sister of his great pal, and' loved her at first sight, ; as was the way of the Buckley men. j The weeks following that dance were > to him the happiest, yet withal the » saddest, he had ever known. For he s could not keep away from Kitty, i though «e know in the depths of his 1 heart; he was not playing the gamo. They met constantly, though always in . public, at balls, dinners, theatro par- 1 ties, all the hundred and one function* that his "set" frequented. And' to , Roger, deep in the throes of an almost* \ overpowering love, this endless tread- ! mill of gaiety had heroine well-nigh unendurable. He longed, with a long- v inp; beyond words, for the quiet of the ! country, to be alone with heo.% if only \ for an hnur, and to look into her <Jear v eyes, and take her hands in his, and v pour into her oars all his love and wor- > Rliip for her. So the outcome of it all. was, he had invited Kathleen; Tempest _

end her brother to join his party for i the steeplechases, and l whispered a hint ' to Aunt Janet that she must com© and play duenna. And: his old aunt, with a Winkle in her eye, accepted the invitation, and' resolved to watch th© game that was about to bo played. ' Now, into tins history comes the gallant horse Harlequin, by The Clown —out of Pierrette —and this day he was destined to ran for a bigger stake in life's race than had ever before fallen, to his lot. Roger was to ride in the race of the day for the cup presented by the Master of Hounds, su;d he had' piled every penny he posra«3&d on the horse, and backed himself to win at the longest odds obtainable. Tt was neck or nothing, he bwore, for, like many another Buckley before him, Roper was a horn, gambler, and he said l to himself that, come what might, he would win this race or break his neck in the attempt. " And by all the gods," he murmured, as he noted his bets, "if I don't jtviri it'll be because I'm lying with a oroKen neck at the water jump!" Harlequin's one failing was his nervousness of water, though for speed *nd staying power Roger knew there ■was not another horse to touch him—not even his great rival, Black Knight, who was the one horse he feared. Black Knight was the property of Major "Whitfield, a man whom Roger cordially disliked, and who had for some time been a "thorn in the flesh" to him. He had always avoided him as much as possible j though they were bound to meet pretty often in the hunting-field. But his dislike turned to jealousy and hatred when he discovered a few weeks previously that Major Whitfield had been seen about more than once with Kathleen Tempest, and that, moreover, she had smiled on him more sweetly than Roger thought at all necessary. However, now with the chance of meeting, his rival in fair fight, his spirits rose, and his antogonism died down. Like most gamblers, he believed strongly in Fate, and he had decided that the winning of this race should be a good omen for his hopes of> winning *the girl he loved. For, so far, her smiles had been rather impartial, and the uncertainty of it all was driving him nearly mad. He felt the Major was a formidable rival, for in his dark, rather foreign way, he was decidedly good-looking, and he was reputed to have a " way ** with women. "So it'll be a fight to a finish," murmured Roger to himself, as he woke up on this eventful morning and wondered what the day held in store for him. Was it to be a glorious win—or the last race he should rid'e on earth? And so, to Harlequin, son of The Clown, it befell that he should take his share in the fulfilling of Destiny,' and play his part gallantly on this fateful day,

In the paddock half an hour before the Hunt Cup, all was movement and . bustle. One or two minor races had been run, but the conclusions had been rather tame; so the public looked to the Cup for "their excitement, and opinions were much divided as to which horse would carry off the coveted trophy. The knowing ones were inclined' to favour Harlequin, and as he was led round the paddock he certainly looked a picture of all that a horse should be. His satiny, chestnut coat shone with the very acme" of" fitness, his ears wera pricked forward, and his , kind, eyes looked round inquiringly from side .to side at the people who pressed up to stare at him. Black Knight came in for,his share of admiration, but he was sweating a little, and the crowd' evidently got on his nerves a good deal, for his groom had something to do to keep him from lashing out at anyone who came near. Roger came out of the dressing tent, and walked iacross to the corner of the t paddock where Harlequin was being paraded. He looked, as fit as the horse [himself, and wonderfully good fco look at, with hia fair hair and lean brown faoo, though he was a little pale with the excitement of it all. His colours, puzzle jacket, sleeves and cap, were very popular, and there was a little cheer as he crossed the paddock. "If ? e doan't win t' Coop, I'll eat 3tny 'at!" said old Jim "Westcott—- " Bully Jim " as he was called locally, a notable tipster, and as jolly an old blackguaM"as"you'could "wish to find. " Tna knows nowt aboot it, lad, 1 ( said another voice, and a follower of the " Black Knight" excitedly proceeded to crack up his own fancy. " And I lay thee two 'arf crowns to a shiJlin.'- " he went on, "that Black Kpight beats 'Arelequin 'oiler 1" " Done," said Bully Jim, with a chuckle, '-'me money's safe, lad, and ihine's as good as iu me pocket!" The saddling bell had gone, and Roger was busy tightening up his girths, when he suddenly caught sight of Kathleen coming across to hirfi, with her brother in attendance. She looked more beautiful than ever, he thought,

in her well-cut suit of grey tweed, and neat sporting-hat, and with her glorious brown eyes alight with excitement. "I've come to wish yon luck, Captain Buckley,' 5 she said, as she came near him. " And I've a pair of gloves on you, so you see you'll simply have to win!" She laughed as she saw the twinkle in his eye, and then she turned to Harlequin, and Roger felt a twinge of envy of him, as she gently stroked the beautiful chestnut head, and kissed the soft nose that nuzzled at her. Then suddenly she put up her arms and drew the horse's head down to her, and whispered for a moment into his ear. And truly he seemed to understand, for lie nuzzled onoe more against her, as though he would tell her he had heard her message, and the girl smiled up at Roger, as she turned away from the horse. ~ Ho understands/' she said, " and he'll do what I've asked him." Roger was a little out of his own control with the strain of all that hinged on the forthcoming race, and, as she • turned to go back to the stand, he suddenly felt he could not stand this terrible uncertainty another minute. He must know, before he could ride his j Taco, whether her love was for him or for the other fellow, and whether there J was any grain of hope for him, if he ' should manage to pull things off successfully. She b.fid wished him good luck eartaialy, but then probably only because she was backing him to win. •And what was the message she had whispered to his horse? Perhaps, if knew that, it would tell him something of her fepliug for him. The numbers were up for the Cup and he had not much time, but with long strides he caught her up before •she had left the paddock. "Ivitty, forgive me," he said hoarsely, as people looked curiously "at them, " but for God's sake tell me, do you care if J win?" In a low voice—so low that he could •barely catch the words—she said : "Yo'J roust win, Roger, and Harleqtriri' Knows why." " <jfod bless you," lie said; and with one fook into her brown eyes which shone deep and tender now, he was away through the crowd with his heart hammering madly, and over and over in his brain her words repeating themselves: "Harlequin knows, Harlequin i7s<cs!" Well, in a very fow moments more, he, Roger Buckley, will know, too. Know, whether life still holds everything in store for him, or whether his fate is a sportsman's death, under the blue sky. For, he swore again, it should be one or the other. No weakling he, this Roger.

' As the horses canter up to the startftig post, he finds himself next to his rival on Black Knight. The Major looks more Saturnine than ever in his racing colours, black and white stripe, and black cap; and Roger, with nis i boyish fairness and 1 the eager look of excitement on his face, makes a great contrast to the rather blase-looking isau of the world on the black horse.

From the stand' near by, Kathleen watches them as they canter side by side to the post, and a little inscrutable smile spread's over her face as she looks, and then quite suddenly, she grows grave.

"They're off!" comes the roar from the crowd, and conversation ceases, and race glasses are raised, as the horses dash forward in tho start for the Cup.

The' course 19 rather a tricky one; the fences quite stiff enough to toy a horse's mettle, and a water-jump, with a rather bad take off, one fence frun ho m e.

The horses are all in a bunch as they near the second fence, and the pace is hot; but Roger has Harlequin well in hand, for lie knows the value of saving his horse for the last .burst, and he can't afford to run any risks with his chances to-day. So he steadies him at the fences, and keeps his strength in reserve, for the test which will mean everything to him. Harlequin is going easily, a little in the rear of Black Knight. In front of them both—a couple of lengths ahead —is a bay filly, Starlight, who is reputed to be a brilliant fencer, but lacks staying power. Behind, in twos and threes follow the re-st of the field. Roger fears none of them, not even Black Knight, once he can get Harlequin clear of the water; but if he fails him there—ah God ! if he fails him ! His mind is in a tumult; his whole being surges with excitement and the glory of the race; yet his sub-consci-ous self remains calm and collected as lie helps his horse wherever possible, and speaks 'to him every now and then, little low words of encouragement. They are at the stone wall now. Starlight is over like a bird 1 , three lengths in front of the rest—Black Knight nest—then Harlequin; side by side with the 20 to 1 chance, Valentine. Black Knight suddenly forges ahead, and is running level -with Starlight before the nest fence is reached, and leads the field as ,they thunder down the hill towards the open ditch. To Roger's ears the air seems full of the thud of horses' hoofs, and', as he bends low in the saddle, his eyes fixed on the black horse ahead of him, he feels 110 has lived half a lifetime since Kitty had wished him luck in the padd'ock, and whispered her message into his horse's ear. With the thought of the girl he loves more than his very soul, there comes hope to his heart, and with it a great exhilaration, making him feel he would do anything, anything in the world, to gain her love. Black Knight is still leading, and away in the distant st-and, a girl's heart stands still, as she sees the black and' white jacket in front, and hears all around her the shouts: "The Knight leads!" But Roger is biding his time, though he knows that soon—very soon —the moment will come, when he must ask his horse for the best that he can give, and spare him not. One more fence before the water—and Harlequin swerves, as Starlight, with a crash of timber, falls in his track. But the horse jumps clear, and Boger breathes again. Nothing now, between them and the black horse in front. Roger loosens his hold on the reins, and gives the chestnut his head'. The horse, with a mighty lunge forward, answers to his touch as he feels the slackened rein, and th© ground seems to fly from beneath his feet. The distance that separates them from Black Knight lessens imperceptibly, as Harlequin, with a free head, gallops madly onward', in a perfect orgy of speed. Roger, with hammering pulses, feels the wind' whistle past his head' in their? wild rush forward, and his thoughts come in jerks:

"We're gaining—fast—ah, God—we're gaining. Half a length between us now—and the water's ahead, Harlequin. Ah, what a race!" They're up to the black's quarters now, and Roger can hear his great sobbing . breatms. The horse is plainly distressed, and Roger, as he hears, feels a great wave of hope that "Victory is within their reach. "Harlequin," .he breathes, "gallant horse, don't fail me now!" And' as if' in answer to _his prayer, the horse sweeps onward, with his mighty stride, racing madly to pass the black. Up to Jhis girths now—now .level with him—"and together they"race on to take the water. . .. Roger pulls himself together, and gathers all his faculties to meet the tussle which he knows lies before him. He's leading now, and Kitty, as ghe sees the purple and white in front, turns a little faint with the terrible ystrain, and feels she can look*no longer. Someone must tell her when the race is over, and she lays down her glass and sits back in her seat with a little sigh. The race has Tesolved itself into a duel, for there are but the two horses in it, now; the rest of the field axe somewhere back in the distance, but no one cares.

Roger is wonderfully cool, but his whip is out, and his face is set in lines of determination, as he nears the dreaded! obstacle. Harlequin gallops on towards the fence—half-rises to it—then, as he sniffs the water on the other side, drops back on his haunches with a snort of terror, and—refuses! The horse is quivering with nervousness, and as Roger pulls him Toitnd, he soothes him with his voice, and strokes his neck then, with one terrific cut of # bis whip, puts him once more at the jump. With a mighty spring the horse jumps—wide, but, as he sees the water beneath him, he suddenly; seems to swerve in the air, almost pitching his rider off . and Jands sideways on the other side, just on the edge of the slippery bank. His feet slide from under him, as he struggles madly for a footing on the muddy ground, and for a moment Roger thinks the game is up, for it seems as though they must both fall backwards into the water. But with one last mighty effort the horse heaves himself on to dry land, and, though his breath is coming in great gasps, he falls into his stride once more. " We're over. Harlequin, thank bod,thank God!" breathes Roger. But where's their chance for the race. Black Kni?ht had risen bravely to the water and jumped clear, though he bad pecked a bit on landing, and th© Major's heart had been in his mouth for a second. But, as Roger makes his second, attempt, the black is sailing up the straight to the last fence, leading easily, And the yell of the crowd comes faintly to Roger's ears: " Black Knight wins, Black Knight wins!" "He shan't win," he breathes with set teeth. "It's our race, Harlequin !" And he bends low in the saddle till his head nearly touches his horse's neck. a

'•'Now—Harlequin—now, for the love of God, and for her sake and mine!" And he sits down to ride as never before in all his young life had he thought possible. The black is over the last fence, but the spectators roar their applause as they see the purple and white coming ujr. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, he's gaining. Harlequin takes the last fence gloriously, and the Major plies his whip madly as he hears the thunder of hoofs behind him. But the black has shot his bolt, and can do no more, and still Harlequin comes up —and up. Then, there's a mighty loar from the crowd, as they suddenly see Roger almost shot out of the saddle. "What's up? What can have happened? He's off—no—he's stuck to it." But—oh, the luck of it—his left stir-rup-leather hangs useless snapped at tho critical moment. So he must ride this finish with only one stirrup, he thinks in a dazed kind of way. "Well, it's all in the day's work, so come on, good horse." But tho incident had lost Harlequin a length, and Roger's task seems nearly hopeless; but he's almost inhuman

now, in his grim determination, and he's gained his lost ground agiaiti almost before anyone has realised what was happening. Harlequin is still going magnificently, but the black is so nearly—nearly, home. Only a few more lengths to go, and, as the Major sees the winninig post so near a triumphant smile breaks over his face. But the end is not yet. The wind has been blowing vigorously all day, and now, as though to join forces with the wild excitement which seethes all around, it suddenly blows a wild gust, which comes whistling round the corner of tho stand, where a crowd is waiting to watch the finish. So sudden is tho onslaught that the gust whips off the white straw hat of a spectator, and before he can retrieve it, it is whirling swiftly across the course, right in the path of the leading horse. Black Knight catches sight of the white object, which is spinning toj/wards him over the ground, and with a terrified snort he shies away from it, and rears right up on end. The Major's whip comes heavily down, on | the horse's neck.

"Curse yoUj, you brute 1" he mutters, behind closed teeth, and the horse plunges forward again, as the whip cuts into his flesh. But the pause has given the other his chance. Down the course thunders the big chestnut, seeming hardly to touch the ground as he flies along. Low on his neck sits Roger, gripping tight with his knees, to keep his balance, as his useless stirrupleather flaps against the saddle. His right arm moves mechanically, as he plies his whip, for ho can't afford to spare h"is horse now. "Ah, what" a race!" he breathes, what a race!" A great blackness has come upon him, and ho can hardly see. " It's up to you, Harlequin," he murmurs, brokenly. "I'm done—to che world." One mighty effort and thje great horse draws level with his rival. They're neck and neck, and a length to go! With a tremendous roar from the crowd the horses race together towards the post; and—now—now, with one last, almost miraculous burst of speed, the chestnut draws away from the black and passes the winning post, a head in front of him. 'Twas over, Harlequin had won the Cup! < Roger pulled up with'the feeling that he had just emerged from some ghastly nightmare. Can it be true? Has he really won, or is it all a dream? But as he heard the shouts all round him, he smiled. "Harlequin! Harlequin!" the crowd roared, and Roger bent down to the beautiful" head, and touched It with his lips"You've saved me gallant friend," he murmured, " and for Kitty's sake and mine, I thank you!" He turned and rode back into the paddock, and the people crowded round him, and broke into Iresh cheers when they saw the broken leather hanging limp, and realised afresh what a great race this had been. Suddenly a man broke through the throng, waving his hat excitedly. It was " Bully Jim," and in hia hand was the white, strawhat that had turned the odds in Roger's favour.

"Mester Roger 1" he cried, "Hester Roger 1 It were my 'at wot saved yer, and I'd sworn to eat it ef yer 'adn't won, so I reckon it's saved me, an' all! Shake 'ands, lad!" And Roger, with a cheerful grin, shoot, the burly tipster bv the hand, and a a'oar of daughter from the crowd followed old Jim, as he hurried away. Then slowly, towards Roger through the crowd, came the woman he loved, and the light in her brovvii eyes was dazzling. He had dismounted in a oorner of the paddock, ?-nd was standing with one arm round his horse's heck, caressing him softly, and murmuring little words of endearment to this friend who had gained him all the world. "Roger, Roger!" she called softly; and with both hands outstretched, she came to him. , He took them in both of iiis, and without a ward he looked for a moment into her eyes. " Kitty, I've won, for you," he said, then, " and to-night you shall tell me —all you told Harlequin."

It was evening, and the stars looked .down out of an unclouded sky, and a little crescent moon hung bright and shining abovie them. This day of f eat events was nearly at an end. arlequm, son of the Clown, had played his part right gallantly, and now it befel that the destiny of his master should be achieved. The man and the woman sat out under the stars, and he, with a joyous eagerness, which would not be denied, poured forth, at last, all the love that was in his soul and all the longing he had felt for her through all these weary days. "Ah, beloved," he cried, "I love you—oh. I love you!" And his young brown face was all alight with the worship he felt for her, as ho took her hand in his.

''Say you love me a little," he said, "for I want you—terribly!" She looked at him, and a tenderness almost overwhelming in its intensity, came upon her, as she saw his great love for her. "Roger,'"' she said low, and he bent to catch her words, " heart's beloved, I love you more than life itself." His-arms were round her now, and in an ecstacy of joy his lips met hers; and out there, under the stars,... his soul sought and found its counterpart, and two lives were bound together, never in this life to part. " And now darling," he said presently, as the moments of bliss slipped away, " tell me the secret that you told Harlequin." The girl looked up at him as he stood there in all his young beauty, and she smiled with a sudden radiance. "This was my message," she said: —"I love him, Harlequin, so, for both our sakes, win!" And then—with_ a look of radiant glory shining in his brave young eyes, Roger took her into his arms.