"The Annapolis races are the best in this country," said Mr. Worthington. "We have not only all the families of Maryland represented here, but scores of the gentlemen of Virginia, with not a few from Pennsylvania. The races last almost a week. Courts are adjourned, schools dismissed--everybody takes a holiday; and the Assembly, which happens to be in session, has risen until they are over." "What are the entries for the first race?" she asked. Mr. Paca consulted his card. "Dr. Hammond's _Figaro_, Mr. Hall's _Trial_, Mr. Yeldell's _Chester_, Mr. Gnatt's _Britannia_, Mr. Heath's _Merry Andrew_ and Major Sims' _Terror_." "And what are the weights?" "Rising four years, fourteen hands, eight stone; five years, nine stone; six years, ten stone, and aged, eleven stone; to give and take, at the rate of seven pounds, for every one under or above fourteen hands." "Is fourteen hands the average size?" she asked. "Rather small, it seems to me." "They make it up in speed, however," said Mr. Worthington; "and Figaro is fifteen hands. He has run at Carlisle and at Preston, in your country, and won everything. In fact, he has never been beaten." A roar from the crowd announced the appearance of the horses. "What is the black?" she asked. "Trial." "And the chestnut?" "Chester." "And the sorrel?" "Merry Andrew." "And the bay?" "Figaro." She took six pistoles, from her reticule. "Captain Herford, will you do me the favor to place this on Figaro?--What are the odds?" "Three to one, last night, at the Coffee-house." "Very good," she said. "A horse that won at Carlisle and Preston ought not to have much trouble, here. What is the distance?" "Four times around the track, about three miles," said Mr. Paca; "the best two in three." Old Jonas Green had taken his place in the judge's stand, and the horses were forming for the break. The next moment, they thundered down the track, got the word, and were away. A blanket could have covered them, as they swept around the course for the first two times. Then, Terror slowly lagged; and, presently, Merry Andrew and Britannia had followed suit. The other three were running neck to neck. At the turn into the stretch, Chester drew away, and won by length from Figaro, with Trial third. Instantly there was a turmoil. Chester was a good horse, and the weights were in his favor, but no one had supposed him capable of besting Figaro. "Had I waited, I would have gotten longer odds," said Miss Stirling. "Mr. Paca, see if you can put these five pistoles to better advantage--on Figaro, mind you." "I think Figaro will win," said Mr. Worthington. "He has the bottom, and his age will favor him." Mr. Paca returned to announce that he had placed the money at two to one, and received, in exchange, a most dazzling smile; whereat Herford swore under his breath. Then there descended upon them all the young women, from the near-by coaches, and the young gentlemen who attended, to make their devoirs to the Governor's niece.