And, as though in answer to this appeal (which he did not overhear), she beheld her triumphant suitor saluting the empress of his soul with uplifted jockey-cap. Alack! it was the fatal piece of politeness; since, to avoid falling off, he was compelled to moderate the speed of his racer while performing it, and Juggins, either repenting his good-nature, or unable any longer to restrain the impetuosity of _Poojah_, was carried first past the winning-pole, Mr Bhosh following on _Milky Way_ as the bad second! At this the Princess Petunia emitted a doleful scream; like Freedom, which, as some poet informs us, "squeaked when Kockiusko (a Japanese gentleman) fell," and suspended her animation for several minutes, while the Duchess "grinned a horrible ghastly smile," as described by Poet Milton in _Paradise Lost_, at Mr Bhosh's shocking defeat and her own gain of a million, though all true sportsmen present deeply sympathised with our hero that he should be thus wrecked in sight of port on account of an ordinary act of courtesy to a female! But Mr Bhosh preserved his withers as unwrung as though he possessed the hide of a rhinoceros. "Honble Sir," said he, addressing the Judge, "I humbly beg permission to claim this Derby race and lodge an objection against my antagonist." "On what grounds?" was the naturally astonished rejoinder. "On the grounds," deliberately replied Chunder Bindabun, "that he surreptitiously did pull his horse's head." Juggins was too dumbfoundered to reply to the accusation, and several spectators came forward to testify that they had personally witnessed him curbing his steed, and--it being contrary to the _lex non scripta_ of turf etiquette to pull at a horse's head when he is winning--Juggins was very ignominiously plucked by the Jockey's Club. The Duchess made the desperate attempt to argue that, if Juggins was a pot, Mr Bhosh was a kettle of equally dark complexion, since he also had reined up before attaining the goal--but Chunder Bindabun was able easily to show that he had done so, not with any intention to forfeit his stakes, but merely to salute his betrothed, whereas Juggins had pulled to prevent his horse from achieving the conquest. So, to Mr Bhosh's inexpressible delight, the Derby Cup, full as an egg with golden sovereigns, was awarded to him, and the notorious blue ribbon was pinned by the judge upon his proud and heaving bosom. But, as he was reverting, highly elated, to the side of his beloved amidst the acclamations of the multitude, the disreputable Juggins had the audacity to pluck his elbow and demand the promised _quid pro quo_. "For what service?" inquired Chunder Bindabun in amazement. "Why, did you not promise me the moiety of your fortune, honble Sir," was the reply, "if I allowed you to be the winner?"