THE FORTUNA FILLY.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Volume XIII, Issue 800, 6 July 1905, Page 11

THE FORTUNA FILLY.

(By

HOWEL SCRATTON.)

CHAPTER I

bennett’s hotel,

The old-fashioned English family hotel is fast diasppearing, being crushed and crowded from existence by the gigantic monsters of bricks and mortar ■which, within the last twenty years, have sprung up all over the West End of London. The new "‘style may be very charming to young people fresh from the country, who are dazzled by the gilt and the marble. It may be very elegant to call your inn the “ Hotel Kensington” instead of the Kensington Hotel. It may add to the pleasure of the dinner to call the bill of fare the menu, and to scan a list of foreign names which convey nothing to the mind of the average Englishman but a sense of unfamiliarity and distrust; it may be gratifying to be served by a waiter who speaks broken English; it may conduce to one’s comfort to find that one is known by a number, like a convict, that the German manager does not know the names of the guests, and if he did, could not pronounce them. All this may be very nice indeed, and I have no doubt that many people enjoy staying at one of these big caravanserais upon the principle on which the sojourners in a seaside boarding-house like to •dress for dinner—that it is such a change from what they are accustomed to at home, but for my part, I like an oldfashioned English hotel, with a landlord who knows one’s' individual tastes and studies them; with a cook who can send up a good old-fashioned English dinner, and with English waiters who have graduated in a good English household, and do not smell of garlic. Now, Bennett’s Hotel in Dover-street seems to me to be as near perfection in point of comtort as one can hope to find. Old Mr. Bennett’s cheery face, with its fringe of white whiskers and silver hair, seems to speak a welcome louder than words, as the kindly landlord meets the arriving guest in the hall and conducts him to a well-furnished suite of rooms, which are sure to be snug and warm in winter, or airy and cool in hot weather.

Each suite is shut off from the rest of the hotel by its own private door, and the sets generally comprise a diningroom, a small boudoir or drawing-room, bathroom, and two or three bedrooms.

The visitors are generally old-fashion-ed country gentlemen and their families, who have patronised Bennett’s all their lives, and who are as well known there as the still-room cat, and quite as much at home.

The cellar of wines is not to be equalled in London, as the port of various famous vintages has lain in the cobwebbed bins since the days long ago, when it was first bottled, and Mr. Bennett is a rare judge of claret and sherry, and has a pretty taste in champagne. If a visitor is likely to be out late, he is furnished with a latch-key, and finds on his return that a spirit frame and mineral waters have been left on the table for his use, together with sandwiches and biscuits. The newspapers are brought to one’s bedroom with the tea in the morning, and everything which can make one comfortable is done by the servants instinctively, and without one being troubled to give orders. It was six o’clock in the afternoon of the second Friday in May, of a recent year which I do not desire more clearly to specify. ' The weather was brilliant, and Piccadilly was crowded with smart equipages and pretty dresses, making a blaze of light and colour; but of course dear, dingy old Dover-street was always quiet and sedate.

Two waiters stood languidly by the glass swing doors of Bennett’s Hotel, looking aimlessly into Dover-street, and apparently wondering why nothing wasn’t anything, whilst Mr. Bennett him self was busy in his snug little room down the passage, decanting a bottle of East India sherry of fabulous antiquity. Presently a brougham drove up to the hotel, and the two waiters sprang suddenly into activity and hastened to open the door of the carriage. Sir Robert Ashingdon and his daughter Delia alighted, Sir Robert saying: “How de do, William? —Good day to ye, James!” as he nodded pleasantly to the waiters. “ Hope we see you well, Sir Robert,” chorused the latter, and Sir Robert replied, “ Right as rain.” At that moment Mr. Bennett appeared, bowing, and saying,

“ Very glad to see you again, Sir Robert ; your rooms are quite ready; same as usual, first floor.” Sir Robert took the landlord’s hand, and shook it heartily. “How are you, Bennett?” he asked; “glad to see you; should have come up yesterday for Kempton to-day, but county business detained me. However, we shall go to Kempton to-morrow, please the pigs, and I hope we shall not come home empty-handed.” Sir Robert was tall and lean, clean shaven and ruddy, with a stiff oldfashioned stand-up collar and a wide blue birds’eye cravat round it. He was of a type you might have seen any day in the sixties, but which is now getting rare.

“Indeed, sir?” replied Mr. Bennett. “ I have been looking at the “ Globe,” and 1 see your horse, Helvellyn, is second favourite, standing at eight to one. I am sure I wish him every success, sir 1” “ He’s sure to run welj, and I think he will verv likely win,” returned Sir Robert. “ I was down at Cottington a few days ago, and saw him do a splendid gallop—we have not tried him, and indeed why should we, as I don’t bet? but John Straight is quite satisfied with him.”

“I am sure I hope he will win, sir; and I really think I shall drive Mrs. Bennett down to see him do so,” said Mr. Bennett; then, as an afterthought, “ Will you take anything after your journey. Sir Robert? I have some, very curious old East India sherry which. I should like you to taste. I have had it now for three years in my cellar, but only opened the first bottle to-day, in honour of your coming; it came out of the cellar of old Lord Bembridge. and I bought it when his wine was sold after his death—may I send you a decanter?” “ By all means, Bennett,” replied Sir Robert; “and send up two glasses, so that you may judge it with me.” “ You are very kind, sir,” and turning to the waiter, who was manipulating napkins on the table, Mr. Bennett said. “ William, go down into the office and bring up a decanter of sherry, which you will find on the mantelpiece, and two wine glasses; and tell James to take tea to the boudoir for Miss Ashingdon.” “ Very good, sir,” said William as he vanished, and returned almost immediately with the sherry and two large cut-glass wine glasses upon a silver tray. Sir Robert took the decanter, and filled the glasses. “Here’s good health to-ye, Bennett,” h s cried. “ And here’s yours, Sir Robert; and •nay Helvellyn win to-morrow !” '‘Good!” exclaimed Sir Robert; “and may Helvellyn win to-morrow!” They drank their wine like connoisseurs ; sipping it, holding it in the mouth, and gazing at the glorious old tel amber as the light shone through it when they raised their glasses. Slowly Sir Robert let the nectar trickle down his throat until the last drop had gone; then ther? was a religious pause, as when the congregation remains kneeling for a spacfc after the minister has given h's Bened.ction. then he smacked his lips “By Jove, Bennett, if Helvellyn is air,where near as good as your sherry, he won’t be i aiu ir. winning.” ‘ "hat is >i great compliment to the wine, sir; and I am glad that you find it satisfactory.” “ But what do you think of it yourself, Bennett? You are about the best judge of wine I know ; don’t be modest, because it is your own tap, but tell me truly what ’you think of that wine.” “As you put it to me like that, Sir Robert, I must confess that it is the very best East India I have ever tasted—l was only afraid the bottles might vary in quality; but this is, if anything, better than the sample I took at the sale.” “ Well,” said Sir Robert, “ I congratulate you on having bought it; and I hope you will keep it for those who know what is good.’ “ Never fear, sir,” responded the landlord; “sherry is out of fashion, and I should as soon think of setting this before a gentleman who was not accustomed to order that wine, however much money he might be willing to pay for it, as I should think of giving a baby five pound notes to wrap his toys in.” Sir Robert poured out two more glasses, and the same careful and appreciative attentions were paid to them by landlord and guest; when Mr. Bennett was preparing to withdraw, James, the second waiter, came in to announce that the omnibus had arrived with the valet and the lady’s maid with the luggage. “ Oh. Mr. Bennett, we shall want dinner at eight o’clock, please,” said Sir Robert.

“Very well, sir, I will see to it; will you take champagne?” “Yes; if you have any of that Pommery ’B9, I should like it—not much iced; and please have four places laid, I have two gentlemen dining with us tonight.”

Mr. Bennett bowed and and Sir Robert went to to see how his daughter on with her tea. “ Delia,” he said, as he the snugly-furnished room where sittingj “ I have asked young Fyiqß and Hamilton Rolfe to dine with us to-S|ght.” “Oh, dad! why did you ask Mr. Rolfe?” “ Well, he was down at the Murchisons, and I met him in Belstone yesterday with Jack Murchison, and he asked me about Helvellyn, and seemed to take a great interest in racing, so I told him we should be in town to-night, and should be glad if he would come in and dine.” “ I hate him,” said_Delia. “ Tut, tut, young lady, you use strong language; surely he has never done anything to offend you?” “ He has never done anything that I could take up, but his whole manner is offensive. He seems to think that everybody must be admiring him 1” “ At any rate, you don’t object to Dashwood Fynes?” queried her father, with a quizzical look. “ Of course not, dad; I like Dash very much, and always have liked him.” “ Very well, then, you can talk to Dash, and I will talk to Rolfe. He will have been to Kempton to-day, and can tell me all about the racing,” and with that Sir Robert left the room. He liked to chaff Delia about Dashwood Fynes; not having any idea there was anything between his daughter and his young friend, but always looking upon them as the big boy and little girl that they had been when General Fynes rented the Dowei- House from him some nine years previous to the commencement of this tale. If Sir Robert had had the least suspicion that any other bond subsisted between Dashwood and Delia, he would have cut off his right hand rather than encourage it. It was not that he did not like Dashwood, for he had always been fond of the boy; but he had a strong feeling that love could not exist without money to feed it, and that a man ought not to marry, however rich in prospects his wife might be, unless he could show an income of at least a thousand a year to begin with. He had often said as much to Delia, talking generally, to warn her as he thought, by a hint, not to fall in love with any fortune hunter, but he had never looked upon Dashwood Fynes as a possible son-in-law; and, moreover, Sir Robert had never noticed any semblance of love-making between the young people, which shows how blind we can be to things which are going on close around us! Punctually at eight o’clock Dashwood Fynes presented himself at Bennett’s Hotel, and was shown into the little boudoir where Delia sat in her muslin dress, with a pale pink sash, awaiting him. She looked lovely; her light brown hair was naturally curly, and the La France rosebuds which she had'artfully placed in the plaited coil, set off its glossiness wonderfully. She was only a little thing, but trim and round and wiry; all quality, as we should sav of a two-year-old, and she had the most delightfully impudent face I ever saw. Bright, large sparkling eyes, rosy cheeks, a tip-tilted nose with a freckle or two on it; lips thick, perhaps, but warm and red, with a perfect row of teeth shown now and then, and a little thoroughbred head poised elegantlv upon a slender neck, which made one think of Mary Queen of Scots in the days when she first left the French court. Dashwood came towards her, and she came to meet him. “ Oh, Dash,” she cried, “ I am so glad that dad asked you to dinner,” and she took both his hands. “ You can’t be so glad as I am, Delia dear,” he said; “I have been wondering for the last three months when I should see you again.” “ Kiss me, Dash!' s-ise said imperatively. Dash complied with a. acrity, and had not half finished when the .door opened again, and Mr. Hamilton Rolfe was announced. “ I will tell you more about it presently.” Delia said quickly, as if she had been telling Dash a story, and turned to meet Mr. Rolfe. Mr. Rolfe was a tall, slim-waisted man of a type which you may see any day in Bond-street. His clothes fitted perfectly, his manner was self-possessed, and his collar was very high. With piercing black eyes, rather near together, an aquiline nose, and a moustache brushed up after the German fashion to show a gleaming set of long white teeth, he certainly gave one the impression that he was rather fond of himself, “ My dear Miss Ashingdon,” he said, as he advanced with outstretched hand, “ I am indeed glad to have an opportunity of renewing our acquaintance—l don’t think we have met since I danced with vou at the Belstone Hunt ball?” “ How do you do, Mr. Rolfe,” Delia answered. “ I hope you are not going

to try and tell me the stories you wanted to tell me then.” Dashwood Fynes clenched his fists, for he guessed what kind of stories Delia meant. “ Oh, you don’t mean that story about the cat and the fiddle?” returned Rolfe, unabashed. “ That is quite a drawingroom story, I can assure you, if you had only waited to hear the end.” “ I don’t care for stories like that, anyhow,” said Delia, severely, and Dash felt like a charge of dynamite that the slightest concussion would serve to explode. However, Sir Robert came in just then, and welcomed his guests. “ I hope the big horse is all right, Sir Robert,” queried Rolfe. “Oh, yes; he was all right when I heard from Straight this morning,” answered the baronet; “ but I have just had a telegram from John saying he is coming to see me to-night, and he does not say a word about anything being amiss, so I expect all’s well: however, we shall kr.'.-w the best or the worst after dinner.” * Dinner is seived ’ announced James “No cer'-mci-y,” said Sir Robert. “ Delia, lead the way, please,” and Delia pioroeled to the dining-room, oilowed by Fynes aiul Loife and with Sir Robert brioging tip ihe rear. Sir Robert sat at one end of an oval table, and Delia at the other, while Rolfe was on her right and Dash on her left hand. The courses were simple. There was strong old-fashioned spring soup. Christchurch salmon, saddle of lamb, and Aylesbury ducklings, with forced peas and new potatoes, followed by green asparagus and pies and creams. Everything was the very best of its kind, and cooked to perfection, and the little party did ample justice to the fare. “ Helvellyn was rather easier in the betting to-day. Sir Robert,” remarked Hamilton Rolfe. “ The betting does not affect me personally. as I never put a shilling on,” replied Sir Robert; “ but of course I like to hear how the market goes, as it is an indication of the public opinion about one’s horses’ chance.” “ Thev were backing that Irish three-year-old, Flannigan’s Pride, to-day, and they took as little as ten to one about him—you could easily get eight about Helvellyn; and Royal Crown was firm at six to one.” “ I don’t think Royal Crown will beat

“ The betting does *iot affect me personally. as I never put a shilling on,” replied Sir Robert; “ but of course I like to hear how the market goes, as it is an indication of the public opinion about one’s horses’ chance.”

“ Thev were backing that Irish three-year-old, Flannigan’s Pride, to-day, and they took as little as ten to one about him—you could easily get eight about Helvellyn; and Royal Crown was firm at six to one.”

“ I don’t think Royal Crown will beat us,” replied Sir Robert; “although he did win the Lincolnshire Handicap so easily—l fancy John Straight has got his measure through something in the stable, but I forgot what it was he told me. What did John Straight say, Delia?”

“ I really forget, o-d; but Mr. Rolfe can ask him when he comes.”

Now Delia did not really forget at all, she knew very well that John Straight has a line of Royal Crown through Phantom City, who had been beaten a neck by The Cardinal, Royal Crown’s trial horse, when giving six pounds, over a mile a week or two before; and John had the best reason to know at what weights The Cardinal and Royal Crown had been tried; but Delia did not intend to tell Hamilton Rolfe anything about this, and she was quite sure that if any question were to be put to John Straight upon the subject in the presence of third parties. that accomplished trainer would suffer from a similar lack of memory. “ Well, at any rate, there is no line of Flannigan’s Pride,” continued Rolfe; “ the Irishmen think he is the best three-year-old in England, and he has only six stone six!”

“ We must play the game, and trust to fortune,” said Sir Robert; “but tell me about the other racing—how did the crack two-year-olds show up?” Hamilton Rolfe hereupon went into a lone and elaborate description of the day’s racing, and Sir Robert was engrossed in the story; while Delia and Dashwood found plenty of interesting things to talk and so the time passed pleasantly until dessert was nut on the table, and soon afterwards William announced that Mr. Straight was waiting in the boudoir. “Show him in here!” cried Sir Robert.

Delia rose to leave the room, and the two men rose also and prepared to follow her; for when a trainer calls on his employer on the eve of a big race, the interview is generally conducted in private.

“Don’t go, Delia,” cried her father; “ pray resume your seats, my friends, there is nothing the least secret about our business; John has probably only called in to say how Helvellyn is doing.” Thus invited, the others sat down again, and the waiter ushered Mr. Straight into the room—a little, upright man. with a long straight nose, broadening at the end, a long, prehensiblelooki’ng upper lip, very firm mouth, overhanging eyebrows of thick sorrel-coloured bristles, and deep-set hazel eyes, which looked around with the quick alertness

one sees in a monkey’s (I mean no offence), and a perfectly scarlet complexion, with deep wrinkles round the nose and mouth; such was John Straight, the World-renowned trainer. He held a flat-crowned felt hat in his hand, and was dressed in a dark grey mixture, with a black necktie, in which was a diamond scarf-pin representing the cognisance of a very distinguished personage. “ Good evening, Sir Robert; good evening, Miss Delia,” said John, as he shook hands; then, turning to Dashwood Fynes, “ Well, young man, and how’s the law ?”

Dash had known old John ever since he had been a little boy at school at Oldburv, when it was his greatest delight to slip away on half holidays, and walking the six miles between that town and Cottingham, to have tea with the trainer’s family, and go to stables with the boys when the horses were done up for the night, so that the familiarity of Mr. Straight’s address was not unwarranted.

“The law is a Hass, I am afraid,” replied Dash; “ or else I am a Hass for not getting more work.” “ Stick to it, young fellow; it is better than horse racing, anyhow,” returned the trainer.

Sir Robert motioned to Hamilton Rolfe, and said, “ Mr. Rolfe, it you don’t know Mr. John Straight, you have a pleasure in store; let me introduce you.” “I think I know Mr. Rolfe,” asid the trainer quietly, bowing politely; but with that in his voice which did not greatly please the latter, but sent a thrill of joy through the heart of Delia, who knew the old man in all hid moods, and did not fail to catch a trifling inflection which told as much as many words. “ Well, then John, how is the horse ? you can speak freely before my friends. “ Helvellyn is as well as I could wish to see him, sir; and 1 took the liberty of taking a bet of eight to one about him to-day, for I don’t think they will offer that when they have seen him in the morning.’ f< Bravo, John, have a glass of port—this is some of Mr. Bennett’s celebrated forty-seven,” and Sir Robert passed the decanter.

John Straight helper “ There was something else I wanted to see you about, Sir Robert, but it is rather a private matter.” “If it is anything about horses, you can speak here before my friends,” replied Sir Robert, chivalrously answering for their honour. “ Well, sir, I have heard of a filly which I should like you to buy—she’s not a fashionably bred one—being by Peasant, who was hurt as a yearling and nevei' ran; but who, you will recollect, was the brother of one Derby winner and the son of another.” “ What is her dam?” asked Sir Robert. ct A mare named Fortuna, who won a good many races in France, and she is

of our best blood—the filly I want you to buy is an unbroken three-year-old, and I would not have anything to do with that sort of animal at this time of year, if I did not think it would pay you well to buy her.” “Who has got her to sell?” again asked Sir Robert.

“ A man named Crowden, whose brother bred her. The brother lately died, and the filly has no engagements; she is as good a mover as I could wish to see, big and lengthy, too, and sure to make a brood mare, if she never wins a race.”

“ How much does he want for her?” asked Delia, who was always excited at the prospect of buying any new animal. “ I think she could be got for £200,” said the trainer; “but I should like to know at once, as I must give the man an answer to-morrow before others see her. She is boxed at a public-house at Sunbury, and he hopes to sell her at this meeting.” “ I will buy her, certainly, John, as you think so well of the filly; so you can tell the owner the first thing in the morning.” The conversation then resumed its wonted course of discussing the prospects of the morrow; but at ten o’clock John Straight got up and took his leave, saying that he was just going to have a look in upon a friend for half-an-hour, and then catch the eleven forty-five train to Sunbury.” “ And what’s more,” he said, “ I shall try to see Mr. Crowden to-night and secure the filly, for he is sure to have her walking about on the roads to-morrow, and with so many racing people about we might lose her. Thank goodness no one has seen her yet. Ido believe she is worth a thousand.”

And with these words, and his cheery face one great beam of pleasure, in anticipation of the double event of buying the much-admired filly and winning the Jubilee with Helvellyn, the trainer shook hands and went his way. “ Do you know, Sir Robert, I think I must be going too,” said Hamilton Rolfe. “ Miss Ashingdon must be tired after her long journey.” Delia did not deny that she was tired, and Sir Robert did not press Rolfe to stay, as he had one or two letters which he wanted to write to old friends who, unlike himself, took pecuniary interest in racing to the extent of backing their fancy for a trifle. So Mr. Rolfe found his hat and took his departure. Dash remained for a few minutes longer, talking to Delia, and then he too said “ Good night.”

(To be continued)