"They are not in the least likely to do that," Fielden laughed. "I think we were wise to keep the whole thing to ourselves. It is just as well, too, to let the colt run as Sir George's property. At any rate, there's no harm done and we haven't broken any rules. Besides, it is all in the family. What are your plans for to-morrow, Raffle? If you don't mind, I will go to Epsom with you. Sir George and Miss Haredale can follow on Wednesday morning. I don't want to lose sight of the colt if I can help it. I wish Wednesday was over." Raffle highly approved the suggestion, so, on the morrow, they went off to Epsom with the colt. They literally slept with it all Tuesday night. The fateful Wednesday dawned without a cloud in the sky and by noon the Downs were crowded with people. For the most part they meant to have a holiday, seeing that they were on the favourite to a man and that the chance of the favourite losing was as remote as a racing possibility could be. Shortly after two o'clock Fielden left the paddock and went to join Sir George and May and Miss Carden. "I hope all is well," May whispered. "It couldn't be better," Fielden said. "Another hour and you will be out of your misery. The colt looks as fine as a star. We are having him saddled at the top end of the course so that he won't be actually seen till he is ready for the start. It will be a popular victory, May." "Oh, yes," May said nervously. "I suppose it will. I don't know when I felt so anxious. I was looking forward to enjoying this race, but I don't think I shall. I envy you, Harry. How can you keep so cool?" Fielden smiled. In fact, he was anything but cool. He looked confident but, at the same time, he was conscious of a dryness in his throat and of the quicker beating of his heart as he weighed the possibilities which the next hour held for him and the party from Haredale Park. At that moment he possessed practically nothing. If by any untoward fate the horse lost he would be as poor as he was before, and his marriage with May would be indefinitely postponed. In case of this disaster Sir George would have to sell everything to pay his mortgages and the money he owed to Copley's estate. He would have to spend the rest of his days in humble lodgings. There would be an end to the glories of Haredale. But if the horse won! So much depended upon those four feet, upon those wonderful staying powers of which Raffle had so frequently boasted. Hitherto there had always been a weak spot in the Blenheim blood and it might crop up at the very moment when so much depended upon bone and muscle and sinew. And if everything did go well, why, then, Sir George Haredale would be a rich man again. Fielden would have more than he ever possessed before and the tarnished glory of the family would be restored. As he stood, quiet and reserved, he did not look like a man to whom the next half-hour meant so much. But he thought that half-hour would never be over.