The Famous Match: being the story of a great race

Front matter

BEING THE STORY OF A GREAT RACE BV NAT GOULD AUTHOR OF 'THE DOUBLE EVENT,' ETC. LONDON GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, Limited Broadway, Ludgate Hill I CONTENTS CHATTER PAGE I. 'WHO IS SHE?' . - - - 9 II. MRS. BOYCE AT HOME - - - 19 III. 'YOU ARE A FORTUNATE WOMAN' - - 28 IV. BRED IN AUSTRALIA - - - -38 V. A TRAGEDY IN MELBOURNE - - 47 VI. SHROUDED IN MYSTERY " - - - 56 VII. AN OLD NEWSPAPER - - - - 66 VIII. THE END OF MAY - - 77 IX. ART WINS THE HEART- - - 87 X. ONE OF BRYAN BOYCE'S VICTIMS - "97 XI. DERBY DAY ... - 106 XII. HOW THE MATCH WAS MADE - I 1 5 XIII. THE TALK OF THE TOWN - - 1 24 XIV. AN OFFER FOR CAMP FIRE - - 1 33 XV. THE MONEY-LENDER'S OFFICE - - - I43 XVI. SUPPLIES STOPPED - - - ' 152 XVII. A RATTLING GALLOP - - - - 162 XVIII. AFTER THE TRIAL - - - 171 XIX. IN LOVE AND IN DEBT - - - 180 XX.

FORESTALLED ----- CONTENTS VIII CHAPTER PAGE XXI. SIR KENNETH SPEAKS OUT - - - 199 XXII. THE. EVE OF THE MATCH - - - 208 XXIII. THE DAY OF THE MATCH - - 217 XXIV. TEN MINUTES BEFORE "THE RACE .- - 2 26 XXV. HOW THE MATCH WAS WON - - 235 XXVL AFTER THE MATCH - - - 244 XXVII. BLACK SWAN SHARES - - - - 253 XXVIII. THE MAN FROM MELBOURNE - - 262 XXIX. WIDOW NO LONGER - - - - 27

Chapter I

'WHO IS SHE?' It was market-day at Kingston-on-Thames, and the scene was lively and animated. The usual Saturday morning crowd of well-dressed people gathered together to make purchases, gossip, and indulge in flirtations. Around the various stalls brisk business was going on, and the vendors were doing a thriving trade. There was very little noise save that caused by the traffic and the murmuring of many voices. None of the hoarse, peculiar cries connected with such a market held in divers places nearer London could be heard. It was an eminently respectable market, and Kingston prided itself on the fact. At one side of the market-hall flowers, shrubs, and a variety of ferns and plants were displayed. The fruiterers' stalls were crowded with tempting shows of luscious fruit. Even the fishmongers' stalls were tidy and their stocks fresh and sweet, and the butchers dis played their meat with the attention to appearances of a West End establishment.

Although it had rained during the early part of the morning, the streets were comparatively clean, and daintily - clac] ladies had only a bare excuse for displaying exquisite boots and well - shaped ankles, as they tripped jauntily across the market square. Kingston is an interesting old town, and on Saturday morning it is seen at its brightest. Carriage folk came in from Esher, Hampton, Twickenham, Teddington, Surbiton, Richmond, and numerous other places, and helped to swell the throng. Towards noon the square became still more crowded, and at Nuthall's corner scores of bicycles were left in charge of the caretaker while their owners chatted to acquaintances or went into the famous confectioner's for refreshments. Young fellows in boating costumes strolled up from the Thames and mingled with the crowd.

Ladies in becoming cycling costumes greeted numerous acquaintances and made appointments for 'runs' on Sunday. Gentlemen, with baskets on their arms, were hurrying towards the Griffin to deposit their unfamiliar burdens, except on this particular occasion, in their carriages and traps. Men who would have scorned the idea of carrying articles for home consumption on any other day in the week thought nothing of doing so at Kingston Market. Parcels seemed fashionable, and carriages were turned into 'delivery vans' for the time being. It was not that bargains were to be met with in the market ; on the contrary, full price was paid plus extra inconvenience. Still, everyone seemed brisk and happy, and thankful to have money to spend. It is very little use paying Kingston a visit on Saturday morning without well-lined pockets.

Many of the turn-outs attracted attention, and well-known people were alluded to in some such terms as : ' That's So-and-So. Very rich ? Oh yes. Heaps of money. They live at Lodge, and keep things going, I can tell you.' Soon after the clock pointed to the hour of noon, a smart turn-out was driven along the market square by a lady who evidently knew how to handle the ribbons. She was stylishly dressed, and at her side sat a handsome young fellow about twenty years of age. The groom at the back was dressed in keeping with the turn-out, and was faultlessly attired. The cob the lady drove was a very dark brown, nearly black, with four white feet and a white star. He stepped well, and showed he had plenty of mettle and pace. The lady drove the turn-out into the stable-yard of the Griffin, and then alighted.

She was rather above the medium height, and wore a well-made, tight fitting driving costume, which suited her figure admirably. Her age might have been anything between thirty-five and forty, perhaps nearer the latter, but she bore her years well. She had a pleasant face, her features not being particularly well formed ; but there was a charm about them that was hard to resist. Her brown eyes were shaded by long lashes, and her hair was of a rare nut-brown shade. She wore very few ornaments, a handsome brooch at her throat being the most conspicuous. The young fellow who stood by her resembled her in features and height and general bearing ; but he had not the firm, self-reliant look that was noticeable on the lady's face. He looked a young man to be easily led and dominated over by a stronger will than his own. ' Who is she ?' asked Wallace St. Omer of his friend Philip Noreys, as he watched the turn-out pass into the Griffin yard.

Philip Noreys laughed as he replied : ' So your interest is aroused at last. You take everything so uncommonly cool, and as a matter of course, that I began to think even the beauties of Kingston would fail to rouse you.' ' Who is she ?' asked St. Omer again. ' Curb your unwonted curiosity, my boy,' said Philip Noreys. 'You are not used to it.' ' Are you going to answer my question ? But perhaps you cannot do so,' said Wallace St. Omer, who had edged nearer the opening to the yard and was looking at the lady whose name he was anxious to find out. Philip Noreys was amused, for he knew it was something very much out of the common that would arouse his friend's interest. He took a delight in delaying to satisfy his curiosity. 1 I can tell you who the lady is,' said Noreys ; ' and what's more, I know her.' ' Then, you are a lucky man,' said St. Omer.

Philip Noreys laughed again, as he replied : ' You do not, as a rule, find much attraction in the opposite sex. I am glad there is one lady who has interested you this morning.' ' Tell me who she is, and have done with it,' replied St. Omer. 'Ah! she is coming this way;' and he walked half-way across the square and then stopped. ' Then, you do not want me to introduce you,' said Philip Noreys in some surprise. ' Not yet,' replied his friend. ' I may ask you to do me that favour another day.' ' Why not to-day ?' asked Noreys ' Because ' he hesitated. ' Go on,' said Philip. ' Because there's such a crowd about, and I should have no opportunity of talking to her. It would be merely a hand-shake, a good-morning, and she would be gone,' said St. Omer. ' Smitten, by Jove !' laughed Philip. ' Take care, my friend.

Widows are dangerous, and this one is not of the marrying sort. Once bitten, twice shy. That's her case, I expect, and I don't wonder at it.' ' Again I ask you, Phil, who is she ?' said St. Omer testily. ' It is Mrs. Boyce,' said Phil Noreys. ' She is a very wealthy widow. Keeps racehorses, shoots, rides, golfs, drives a four-in-hand as well as any fellow on the London coaches, and beat me badly at billiards on one occasion, and you know I am not a bad hand with the cue.' ' She looks it,' said St. Omer. ' She must be a splendid woman.' ' You are right there,' replied Philip. ' She is a splendid woman. She is not popular with her own sex, because most of the women around here are jealous of her. She's too straightforward for a lot of them, and has a habit of saying what she thinks and what she means, regardless of consequences.

But the men like her, and, what's more, they respect her. She never makes a show of herself on a bicycle, but dresses as a woman ought to dress, and, upon my word, it is quite a relief to meet a woman in these days who does not fancy she's half a man.' ' That's the sort of woman to know,' said St. Omer. ' I'm sure you will like her. Of course you ought to know her, because there is no danger of your being regarded as a fortune-hunter. Lucky man to have made all those thousands in Australia !' Wallace St. Omer seemed lost in thought, and his face clouded. The light had suddenly died out of his eyes, and he looked a different man. ' What's the matter?' said Phil. ' You're not well, old chap. Come across to the Griffin and have some thing to pick you up.' ' Thanks, I will,' said St. Omer ; ' I am subject to these feelings of faintness ever since I returned home.

Foolish, is it not ? but I really cannot help it.' They went into the Griffin and had a couple of whisky-and-sodas. As they stood at the bar they could overhear the conversation of two men next to them. One of these men had a Jewish cast of features ; the other man looked like a bookmaker's clerk. ' See him in the yard ?' asked the shorter man. ' Yes,' replied his companion with the Jewish features. ' He'll get into trouble one of these days will that young man. He borrows money right and left, and spends it like water. There won't be much of his fortune left when he's twenty-one.' ' That happens next year, doesn't it ?' asked the short man. ' Yes,' was the reply ; ' and I shall have a good picking out of it. He'll have to borrow from his mother then. She's got heaps, and a few thousands will not hurt her.' ' They say she keeps a tight hand on the young un.' ' Perhaps she does.

She don't know half his little I 16 THE FAMOU§ MATCH games, though. It's born in him. My eyes, what a holy bad lot his father was !' Wallace St. Omer walked out of the bar, and his friend followed him. ' Who were they talking about ?' he asked. ' Mrs. Boyce and her son,' said Phil Noreys ' Is that young fellow her son ?' 'Yes,' said Phil. 'His name is Oswald Boyce. He's not a bad sort ; but I fancy he's mixed up with a rum lot of fellows. Bryan Boyce, his father, was an awful man. He rode as a gentleman rider, but he was a bigger sharper than many a turf scoundrel. They do say he treated his wife shamefully, and took the lad to all manner of low places merely to annoy her. Some pangs of conscience must have troubled him in the end, for he left his wife all his money — over a million, so I understand.' ' And you say she keeps up a racing establishment ?' said St. Omer. 'An extensive one,' said Phil Noreys. ' She must have a score of horses in training, but she is no gambler.

She's a real out-and-out sportswoman — races for the pure love of it.' ' And her son ?' asked St. Omer. ' I'm afraid he plunges. His father was a born gambler and utterly unscrupulous. What's bred in the bone, etc.,' said Phil. ' What induced a woman like that to marry such a man ?' said St. Omer. Heaven knows,' said Phil. ' But there are heaps of strange marriages made, and there's no accounting for tastes.' Wallace St. Omer made no answer to this remark ; but the dark look came over his face again, and his hands clenched. They walked round the market-place, and presently came across Oswald Boyce talking to two young fellows in boating costumes, and all three looked flushed and excited. ' He's had one or two,' thought St. Omer to him self, as he looked at Oswald Boyce. At this moment young Boyce caught sight of Phil Noreys, and came up to him.

After shaking hands with him, Phil said : ' Allow me to introduce my friend Mr. St. Omer.' Oswald Boyce grasped St. Omer's hand and said : ' I have heard of you before, Mr. St. Omer. You own the Australian horses Kooringa and Merriwa, do you not ?' ' Yes,' replied St. Omer with a pleasant smile. ' I brought them over from the other side with me. I hope to win a few races here with them.' 1 And I hope you will succeed,' said Oswald. ' My mother will be interested to hear I met you. Will you come over with Mr. Noreys to Hanworth some day. I am sure my mother will be pleased to see you. She is a great lover of horses, and you have, no doubt, a large store of information to draw upon in that line.' ' I shall be very glad to come,' said St. Omer, and then he added hesitatingly: 'If your mother would not think it taking rather a liberty.' ' If your mother would have no objections said Phil Noreys. ' And what is it you fear his mother might object to, Mr. Noreys ?' said a melodious voice, interrupting him. 'Good-morning, Mrs. Boyce,' said Phil, shaking hands with her. ' Your son asked my friend Mr. St. Omer and myself to pay a visit to Hanworth Park.

I replied we should be most happy to do so if you had no objections. But allow me to introduce Mr. St. Omer to you.' A strange tremor passed through Wallace St. Omer's body as he shook hands with Mrs. Boyce. She looked at him earnestly, and said : 'Your name is already familiar to me, Mr. St. Omer, and any friend of Mr. Noreys is welcome at my house.' Wallace St. Omer stammered out his thanks in a confused manner and accepted her invitation. He did not appear to advantage, and he was conscious of it. After a few minutes' conversation Mrs. Boyce and her son left them. ' What do you think of her?' asktd Phil Noreys. ' I think she is a woman I could make a friend of,' replied St. Omer. ' Such friendships are dangerous,' laughed Phil. 'Not with such a woman as Mrs. Boyce,' replied Wallace St. Omer.

Chapter II. Mrs

BOYCE AT HOME. When Bryan Boyce died, Ella Boyce's only feeling was one of relief. She was not sorry for his death at a comparatively early age, and it was not to be wondered at. She had now been a widow over two years, and had thoroughly enjoyed her freedom. The women said she was devoid of feeling, and the men smiled at the remark when they thought of Bryan Boyce. Ella Boyce was married to Bryan Boyce because he was a rich young man. She had her own ideas on the question of love, but her mother crushed them, and sang in her ears the song of the worldly matron : ' Marry money, my dear, and if happiness follows, well and good ; if not, enjoy your wealth, and do the best you can for yourself.' It was a long time before Ella could be brought to regard Bryan Boyce with any other feelings than repugnance. 2 — ' He looks like a low jockey/ said Ella, and her mother replied : ' He is a gentleman rider, my dear, and a very rich man.' ' What is the difference between a gentleman rider and a jockey ?' asked Ella. ' One is a — well, a gentleman ; and the other is a — a — oh, a jockey,' said Mrs. Coldfield.

Ella smiled and accepted this lucid explanation. Mrs. Coldfield was determined Ella should marry Bryan Boyce, whose wealth was reputed to be enormous. She knew Bryan Boyce was a fast, dissolute young man, and that it was sacrificing a girl of eighteen to marry her to him. Mrs. Coldfield, however, was always short of money, and her prospective son-in-law supplied her pressing needs occasionally. ' I'm paying'cash down for Ella before I've got her,' he said one day to Mrs. Coldfield, 'so mind you stick to your bargain. I want Ella, and I'll do the right thing by her in the way of a settlement.' Bryan Boyce got what he bargained for, and Ella became his wife before she was nineteen years old. They had one child, a boy, Oswald Boyce, and Ella lavished all her affection upon him. Her husband's conduct was infamous, but she bore it all bravely for the sake of the lad.

But Bryan Boyce was an adept in the art of matri monial cruelty. When Oswald Boyce was in his teens his estimable father commenced to show him round and ' open his eyes.' In vain did Ella plead with him to spare her son to her. He was deaf to all her entreaties, and wounded her deeply by telling her where he had taken the boy. Alone with her son she had more influence over him than his father, but away from her he was nothing loath to follow the lead his father gave him. EUa Boyce fought hard to retain her hold over her son's affections, and she succeeded. Just as she felt he was slipping from her grasp Bryan Boyce met with an accident in a steeplechase, and was brought home from Sandown a shattered man. He lived for three months after the fall, and during that time he repented of some of his misdeeds.

He sent for his lawyer, and left all his wealth to Ella as a recompense for the years of misery" he had caused her. Ella only half-believed his protestations of regret. She knew if he recovered he would not change his mode of life. He had been dangerously ill on a former occasion, and had acted in a similar manner. When he recovered he made up for lost time by insulting and humiliating his wife in every possible way. No one knew the sufferings Ella went through. She was a proud, sensitive woman, and easily wounded by such a man as Bryan Boyce. It was a merciful thing Ella Boyce had a son, or she would have been tempted to throw off her allegiance to her husband. Mrs. Coldfield could not understand her daughter. ' You ought to be grateful to me,' she said, ' for providing you with such a rich husband.

He may be fast, but all men of wealth are more or less in the same boat. He allows you plenty of freedom, and you have heaps of money to spend. What more do you want ?' ' I want respect,' said Ella firmly. ' I am disgraced continually by my husband. The mere fact of being the wife of such a man lowers me in my own estima tion. You are responsible for all my sufferings, and, if the time ever comes, I shall not forget it.' And Ella Boyce did not forget it. When Bryan Boyce died, she gave her mother plainly to understand that the less she saw of her the better she would be pleased. ' You are an ungrateful woman,' said Mrs. Cold field. ' I have made you one of the richest women in England, and you are not a bit thankful.' 'All the money in the world would be no com pensation to me for the years of misery I have suffered,' said Ella.

Mrs. Coldfield was never invited to her daughter's house. If she came to see her, Ella received her, but did not press her to remain. Rage filled her mother's mean heart as she thought how small was her chance of benefiting by Ella's great wealth. As a matter of fact, Mrs. Coldfield was worse off* since Bryan Boyce's death than before. During his lifetime her son-in-law had allowed her an ample income, which her daughter had discontinued at his death. Bryan Boyce made no provision for her in his will, and this she put down to Ella's credit. ' It was your husband's intention to leave me well provided for,' said Mrs. Coldfield. ' I am not aware of any such intention,' replied Ella. ' Do you mean to say you are not going to allow me the same amount that your husband did every year ?' asked Mrs. Coldfield. 'You have an ample income,' said Ella. ' I see no reason to continue the allowance.' Mrs. Coldfield stormed and threatened.

Finding this of no avail, she became tearful and pathetic. It was all to no purpose. Ella Boyce remained obdurate, and Mrs. Coldfield found her income reduced by more than one half. Mrs. Coldfield's friends thought Mrs. Boyce's conduct inhuman and unnatural. Over afternoon tea, the ladies who assembled at Mrs. Coldfield's mourned with her over her lost shekels. They held up their hands in pious horror at such base ingratitude. ' And to think of it, dear Mrs. Coldfield ! Why, she owes everything to you !' That was exactly what Ella Boyce felt, only she regarded it from a different point of view. She did owe everything to her mother, and she was not likely to forget it. She owed to her mother over eighteen years of misery, and she would never forget that. She owed to this much-to-be-pitied mother her lost youth, her bartered happiness, her deep and dire humiliation, and the stifling of all her girlish hopes and joys.

When she looked at the self-complacent attitude of her mother, Ella Boyce felt she could never forgive her. It may have been wrong for her to harbour such feelings of resentment, but it was no more than her mother had a right to expect if justice were meted out to her. There is no worse crime a mother can be guilty of than the selling of an innocent girl for gold. Mrs. Boyce did not mourn for her husband. She felt it would be a mockery and a sham to do so, and she hated all manner of shams. She paid him the outward respect due to his death, not to his life. She wore black for twelve months, and then cast it off with a feeling of intense relief. Then she commenced life again at nearly forty years of age. It was late to make a start, she knew ; but she was a woman of energy and resource, and she had unlimited wealth at her command.

The amount of Bryan Boyce's fortune had not been exaggerated, and his wife had the whole of it, subject to a payment of twenty-five thousand pounds to Oswald Boyce when he became of age. Mrs. Boyce resolutely set herself to undo all the harm Bryan Boyce had done his son. She wished to keep Oswald near her, and gradually wean him from fast ways. She knew how infatuated her son was with the turf, and, in order to lead him in the right direction, she kept all her husband's horses in training. She thought it would be far better for him to be interested in her horses than in those of other people. She encouraged him in all manly sports, and allowed him to bring his friends to her house. Oswald Boyce loved his mother dearly, and had a great respect for her. He never brought to Hanworth any of his acquaintances who did not know how to behave in the presence of ladies.

He knew many such young men, and they were always at a loss to account for their exclusion from Hanworth when Mrs. Boyce was at home. Occasionally Oswald Boyce had a party of these young fellows at Han worth for shooting, but his mother was not present to receive them. Bryan Boyce had instilled into his son an utter contempt for the value of money. The evil con sequences of this it is easy to surmise. When alive, his father supplied him with an unlimited amount of money, but his mother made him what she considered an ample allowance, and requested him to keep within bounds. Oswald Boyce tried hard — or thought he did — to live within his allowance, but he failed to do so. He spent his money in the same reckless way taught him by his father. He gave away sovereigns where shillings would have been gratefully accepted, and helped friends out of troubles that were only im aginary and got up for the occasion.

The ' allowance' lasted him three months out of the twelve, and Mr. Judah Salmon and others were called upon to furnish resources for the remaining nine. The man with the Jewish cast of features that Wallace St. Omer and Philip Noreys heard talking in the Griffin bar was Mr. Judah Salmon. To this worthy representative of the tribe of money-lenders Oswald Boyce had been frequently, and never gone away empty-handed. Judah Salmon knew ' his marks,' and pronounced Mr. Boyce ' very good goods indeed.' Oswald Boyce alluded to the excellent Salmon as ' Judas,' and laughed when the money lender said, ' Judah, Mr. Boyce, not Judas. I never sold anybody in my life.' If Judah Salmon did not sell anybody, he sold something, and that thing was money. He knew the value attaching to a thousand pounds when a spendthrift young man like Oswald Boyce wanted it.

A thousand sovereigns represent a thousand pounds to most people, but to Judah Salmon they generally represented nearer two thousand pounds when any one wanted to borrow them. ' You're lending young Boyce a lot of money,' said his brother. And Judah replied : 'That is so; but he has excellent credentials. He comes into twenty-five thousand pounds next year. That amount will cover the nine or ten thousand he has had from me.' Mrs. Boyce knew nothing of these money-lending transactions, and Oswald kept her in the dark con cerning them. It would have been far better for him had he confided in his mother, but he felt ashamed to do so. ' I'll square them all off when I come of age next year,' he said to himself, ' and I'll never borrow money again.' How many men have said the same thing and gone back again to such men as Judah Salmon !

Mrs. Boyce thought a good deal about Wallace St. Omer when she returned home. His face impressed her. She fancied he was a man who, like herself, had been unhappy in his early life. There was a strange yearning look about his eyes which denoted he had not found life a bed of roses. She anticipated his visit with pleasure, for she felt sure he was a man who would interest her. She liked Philip Noreys well enough, but there was something about Wallace St. Omer that made him very attractive. From the brief glance she had caught of him at Kingston, she felt he was a man to be trusted. She saw he was confused when he spoke to her, and she was not ill-pleased at it. She gathered from it that she had made a favourable impression upon him, as he had upon herself. Two days passed, three, four, five, and still St. Omer and Philip Noreys did not put in an appearance.

Mrs. Boyce was annoyed at the curiosity she felt to see this perfect stranger again. ' After all,' she thought, ' it is only natural I should feel some curiosity about such a man. He. has had strange adventures, and his career is full of interest. The papers gave such startling accounts of him, and he is so different from what one would expect. He must be a brave man — he looks it.' ' Well, Oswald, what is it ?' she asked, as her son came into the room. ' Only a letter by the second p.ost, mother. It's from Phil Noreys. He's coming down with Mr. St. Omer to-morrow.'

Chapter III

' YOU ARE A FORTUNATE WOMAN.' Hanworth Hall, the residence of Mrs. Boyce, was situated in Hanworth Park, a little over a mile from Kempton Park, and close to Sunbury and Feltham. The house was old-fashioned and had been built many years. The grounds were extensive, and several acres in the park went with the house. Bryan Boyce had spent most of his time at Newmarket, where he had a large establishment, and troubled his wife with his presence at Hanworth as little as possible. The park was studded with fir-trees, and a long avenue of fine chestnuts lined the road between Feltham and the Kempton end of the park. Mrs. Boyce was very fond of Hanworth Hall, although she had not many friends in the immediate neighbourhood. It was hardly possible for her to make many friends during her husband's lifetime, for his conduct was such that ladies did not care to meet him in his own house.