“So far as I am concerned,” he said, “that is of no account. There was a day at Mukden--I do not like to talk of it, but it comes back to me--when I rode twelve different horses in twenty-four hours, but perhaps,” he added, turning to Lady Grace, “you would not care to trust your horse with one who is a stranger to your--what is it you call them?--steeplechases.” “On the contrary, Prince,” Lady Grace exclaimed, “you shall ride her, and I am going to back you for all I am worth.” Bransome, who was also in riding clothes, although he was not taking part in the steeplechases himself, glanced at the clock. “You are running it rather fine,” he said. “You’ll scarcely have time to hack round the course.” “Some one must explain it to me,” the Prince said. “I need only to be told where to go. If there is no time for that, I must stay with the other horses until the finish. There is a flat finish perhaps?” “About three hundred yards,” the Duke answered. “Have you any riding clothes?” Penelope whispered to him. “Without a doubt,” he answered. “I will go and change in a few minutes.” “We start in half an hour,” Somerfield remarked. “Even that allows us none too much time.” “Perhaps,” the Duke suggested diffidently, “you would like to ride over, Prince? It is a good eleven miles, and you would have a chance of getting into your stride.” The Prince shook his head. “No,” he said, “I should like to motor with you others, if I may.” “Just as you like, of course,” the Duke agreed. “Grace’s mare is over there now. We shall be able to have a look at her before the race, at any rate.” The opinions, after the Prince had left the table, were a little divided as to what was likely to happen. “For a man who has never even hunted and knows nothing whatever about the country,” Somerfield declared, “to attempt to ride in a steeplechase of this sort is sheer folly. If you take my advice, Lady Grace, you will get out of it. Lady Barbarity is far too good a mare to have her knees broken.” “I am perfectly content to take my risks,” Lady Grace answered confidently. “If the Prince had never ridden before in his life, I would trust him.” Somerfield turned away, frowning. “What do you think about it, Penelope?” he asked. “I am afraid,” she answered, “that I agree with Grace.” Two punctures and a leaking valve delayed them over an hour on the road. When they reached their destination, the first race was already over. “It’s shocking bad luck,” the Duke declared, “but there’s no earthly chance of your seeing the course, Prince. Come on the top of the stand with me, and bring your glasses. I think I can point out the way for you.” “That will do excellently,” the Prince answered. “There is no need to go and look at every jump. Show me where we start and as near as possible the way we have to go, and tell me where we finish.”