"You are not going to saddle the horse yourself?" he exclaimed in consternation. "Let me call one of the men. Please let me call one of the men." Clodagh laughed. "There's no one to call," she said. "Burke is the only proper man-servant we keep, and he drove into Muskeere for provisions as soon as he brought the bay round for father. You don't think I'd let any of the labourers touch the horses!" As she said this she laughed again and, nodding gaily, passed into one of the stalls. After she had disappeared Milbanke stood silent, listening with an uncomfortable embarrassment to the soft whinnying of the horse, the soft murmuring of Clodagh's voice, the straining and creaking of leather that reached his ears. At last, yielding to his instincts, he stepped forward and spoke again. "Miss Clodagh, let me help you," he said. "I'm afraid I'm rather useless, but you might let me try." Again Clodagh's soft, humorous laugh answered him. "It's done now," she said; "and anyway I've known how to saddle a horse since I was twelve. Stand back a little, please!" He drew back hastily, and she led out a small grey mare. "She isn't much to look at," she explained, "but she's grand to go--and I know she's going to win. She must win." She kissed the animal impulsively on the soft, quivering nostril. Together they threaded their way between the scurrying fowls and innumerable dogs that filled the yard--Clodagh leading the mare, Milbanke keeping close to her side. "What is this race for?" he asked, as they passed through the arched gateway. "A mere trial of strength?" Clodagh's eyes widened. "Oh no," she said; "that would be silly. There are stakes of course--Larry's telescope against my Irish terrier. The telescope belonged to Uncle Laurence, and is a beauty; but it's nothing at all to Mick--Mick is a pedigree dog, six months old, with the finest coat and the loveliest head you ever saw. If I lost him----" But here she stopped. "It's unlucky to say that, isn't it?" she added quickly. "Of course I'm not going to lose him." Again she turned and fondled the mare; and a moment later they came into view of the long, level fields that lay between the house and the sea, and saw the erect figure of Larry clearly silhouetted against the sky, as he sat his cob with the ease of the born horseman. It took Milbanke but a few minutes to place himself in a safe and advantageous position on a ditch that, dividing two of the fields, was to form the last jump of the race. And once ensconced in this pleasant and not uncomfortable seat, he watched the cousins move across the fields to the point where little Nance was waiting to arrange the preliminaries. He saw Clodagh mount the grey mare, observed the one or two inevitable false starts, then became conscious with a quickening of interest that the race had begun.