About three o’clock in the afternoon the steersman signaled a large four-mast steamer, which slightly changed its course, in order to give the “Great Eastern” its number. It was the “Atlanta,” one of the largest boats running between London and New York, calling at Brest on the way. After having saluted us, which we returned, in a short time she was out of sight. At this moment Dean Pitferge, in a vexed tone, informed me that Mr. Hatch’s lecture was forbidden, as the wives of the puritans on board did not approve of their husbands becoming acquainted with the mysteries of Mormonism. CHAPTER XXI. At four o’clock, the sky, which had been overcast, cleared up, the sea grew calm, and the ship was so steady, one might almost have thought oneself on _terra firma_—this gave the passengers the idea of getting up races. Epsom turf could not have afforded a better coursing-ground, and as for horses, they were well replaced by pure Scotchmen, as good as any “Gladiator,” or “La Touque.” The news soon spread, sportsmen immediately hurried to the field. An Englishman, the Hon. J. Mac Carthy, was appointed commissioner, and the competitors presented themselves without delay. They were half a dozen sailors, kind of centaurs, man and horse at the same time, all ready to try for the prize. The two boulevards formed the race-course, the runners were to go three times round the ship, thus making a course of about 1300 yards, which was quite enough. Soon the galleries were invaded by crowds of spectators, all armed with opera-glasses. Some of them had hoisted the “green sail,” no doubt to shelter themselves from the spray of the Atlantic. Carriages were missing, I must confess, but not the rank, where they might have ranged in file. Ladies in gay costumes were hurrying on to the upper decks; the scene was charming. Fabian, Captain Corsican, Dr. Pitferge and I had taken our places on the poop, which was what might be called the centre of action. Here the real gentlemen riders were assembled; in front of us was the starting and winning post. Betting soon began with a true British animation. Considerable sums of money were staked, but only from the appearance of the racers, whose qualifications had not as yet been inscribed in the “stud-book.” It was not without uneasiness that I saw Harry Drake interfering in the preparations with his usual audacity, discussing, disputing, and settling affairs in a tone which admitted of no reply. Happily, although Fabian had risked some pounds in the race, he appeared quite indifferent to the noise; he kept himself aloof from the others, and it was quite evident his thoughts were far off.