Mr. Narkom knowing him so well, knowing how, in the final moments of his _coups_, he was apt to become somewhat spectacular and theatrical, looked for him to return with a flourish of trumpets and carry all before him with a whirlwind rush; so that it came in the nature of a great surprise, when with the calmness of a man coming in to tea he entered the stable with a large stone bottle in one hand and an hostler's sponge in the other. "Well, gentlemen, I am here, you see," he said with extreme calmness. "And"--indicating the bottle--"have brought something with me to do honour to the event. No, not to drink--it is hardly that sort of stuff. It is Spirit of Wine, Major. I found it over in Farrow's cottage and have brought it with me--as he, poor chap, meant to do in time himself. There are some wonderful things in Tom Farrow's cottage, Major; they will pay for looking into, I assure you. Pardon, Mr. Narkom? A criminal? Oh, no, my friend--a martyr!" "A martyr?" "Yes, your ladyship; yes, Major--a martyr. A martyr to his love, a martyr to his fidelity. As square a man and as faithful a trainer as ever set foot in a stable-yard--that's Tom Farrow. I take off my hat to him. The world can do with more of his kind." "But, my dear sir, you said that it was he that spirited away the animal; that it was he and he alone who was responsible for her disappearance." "Quite so--and I say it again. Gently, gently, Major--I'll come to it in a minute. Personally I should like to put it off to the last, it's such a fine thing for a finish, by Jove! But--well it can't be done under the circumstances. In other words, there is a part of this little business this evening which I must ask Lady Mary not to stop to either hear or see; but as she is naturally interested in the matter of Highland Lassie's disappearance I will take up that matter first and ask her to kindly withdraw after the filly has been restored." "Gad! you've found her, then? You've got her?" "Yes, Major, I've got her. And as I promised that I would put her bridle into your hand with the animal herself at the other end of it, why--here you are!" Speaking, he walked across to the box where the brown filly was tethered, unbolted it, unfastened the animal and led her out. "Here you are, Major," he said, as he tendered him the halter. "Take hold of her, the beauty; and may she carry off the Derby Stakes with flying colours." "But, good lud, man, what on earth are you talking about? This is Chocolate Maid--this is Lady Mary's horse." "Oh, no, Major, oh, no! Chocolate Maid is in the stable at Farrow's cottage--hidden away and half starved, poor creature, because he couldn't go back to feed and look after her. This is your bonny Highland Lassie--dyed to look like the other and to throw possible horse nobblers and thieves off the scent. If you doubt it, look here."