The Duchess, seeing that her plot was foiled by the unexpected arrival of Mr Bhosh, made the frantic endeavour to hedge herself behind another bet of a million sterling to a monkey that _Milky Way_ was to come off conqueror--but in vain, since none of the welshers would concede such very long odds. So, wrapping her features in a veil of feminine duplicity, she advanced swimmingly to meet Mr Bhosh. "How lucky that you have arrived on the neck of time!" she said. "And you have ridden all the way from town? Tell me now, would not you and your dear horse like some refreshment after so tedious a journey?" "Madam," said Mr Bhosh, bowing to his saddle-bow, while his optics remained fixed upon the Duchess with a withering glare. "We are not taking any--from _your_ hands." This crushing sarcasm totally abashed the Duchess, who perceived that he had penetrated her schemes and crept away in discomfiture. After this incident _Milky Way_ was subjected to the ordeal of trying her weight, which she passed with honours. For--very fortunately as it turned out--the twenty-four hours' starvation which she had endured as left luggage had reduced her to the prescribed number of _maunds_, which she would otherwise have infallibly exceeded, since Mr Bhosh, being as yet a tyro in training Derby cracks, had allowed her to acquire a superfluous obesity. Thus once more the machinations of the Duchess had only benefited the very individual they were intended to injure! But it remained necessary to hire a practical jockey, since Cadwallader Perkin was still lamenting in dust and ashes at home, so Mr Bhosh ran about from pillow to post endeavouring to borrow a rider for _Milky Way_. Owing, probably, to the Duchess's artifices, he encountered nothing but refusals and pleas of previous engagement--until, at the end of the tether of his patience, he said: "Since my mare cannot compete in a riderless condition, I myself will assume command and steer her to victory!" Upon which gallant speech the entire air became darkened by clouds of upthrown hats and shouts of "Bravo, Bindabun!" But upon this the pertinacious Duchess lodged the objection that he was not in correct toggery, and that, even if he still retained his tall hat, it would be contrary to etiquette to ride the Derby in a frock coat. "Where are his racing colours?" she demanded. "_Here!_" cried Mr Bhosh, pulling forth the cream and sky-blue silken jacket and cap from his pockets, and, discarding his frock coat, he assumed the garbage of a jockey in the twinkle of a jiffy. "I protest," then cried the undaunted Duchess, "against such cruelty to animals as racing an overblown mare so soon after she has galloped from London!" "Your stricture is just, O humane and distinguished lady," responded the judge, who had conceived a violent attachment to _Milky Way_ and her owner, "and I will willingly postpone the race for an hour or two until the horse has recovered her breeze."