“I fancy he knows what he is doing,” the Doctor replied. “He saw that Mameluke’s rider was going to make a waiting race of it, and as the horse has certainly the turn of speed on him, he is trying other tactics. They are passing the mile post now, and Prothero is twelve or fourteen lengths ahead. There, Mameluke is going through his horses; his rider is beginning to get nervous at the lead Prothero has got, and he can’t stand it any longer. He ought to have waited for another half mile. You will see, Prothero will win after all. Seila can stay, there is no doubt about that.” A roar of satisfaction rose from the mass of natives on the other side of the inclosure as Mameluke was seen to leave the group of horses and gradually to gain upon Seila. “Oh, he will catch him, uncle!” Isobel said, tearing her handkerchief in her excitement. The Major was watching the horses through his field glass. “Never mind his catching him,” he said; “Prothero is riding quietly and steadily. Seila is doing nearly her best, but he is not hurrying her, while the fool on Mameluke is bustling the horse as if he had only a hundred yards further to go.” The horses were nearing the point at which they had started, when a shout from the crowd proclaimed that the blue jacket had come up to and passed the scarlet. Slowly it forged ahead until it was two lengths in advance, for a few strides their relative positions remained unaltered, then there was a shout from the carriages; scarlet was coming up again. Mameluke’s rider glanced over his shoulder, and began to use the whip. For a few strides the horse widened the gap again, but Prothero still sat quiet and unmoved. Just as they reached the end of the line of carriages, Seila again began to close up. “Seila wins! Seila wins!” the officers shouted. But it seemed to Isobel that this was well nigh impossible, but foot by foot the mare came up, and as they passed the Hunters’ carriage her head was in advance. In spite of the desperate efforts of the rider of Mameluke, another hundred yards and they passed the winning post, Seila a length ahead. CHAPTER VII. The exultation of the officers of the 103d over Seila’s victory was great. They had all backed her, relying upon Prothero’s riding, but although his success was generally popular among the Europeans at the station, many had lost considerable sums by their confidence in Mameluke’s speed. Isobel sat down feeling quite faint from the excitement. “I did not think I could have been so excited over a race between two horses,” she said to Mrs. Hunter; “it was not the bets, I never even thought about them--it was just because I wanted to see Mr. Prothero’s horse win. I never understood before why people should take such an interest in horse racing, but I quite understand now.” “What is your size, Miss Hannay?” Wilson asked. “Oh, I don’t care anything about the gloves, Mr. Wilson; I am sorry I bet now.”