Isaacson, the owner of Don Quixote, was the same man whose horse, Peveril, had so nearly won the Derby against Hipponous. He had only made his appearance upon the Turf within the last year or so, since some successful speculation had brought him a fortune. The only good point about him, so Pierce was wont to aver, was that he had not shown himself ashamed of his name, or of the method by which he had earned his living. He had been a bill discounter and money lender upon rather a large scale, and though he was reputed hard, no imputation had ever been made upon his honesty. Since wealth had come to him, he had given away large sums in charity, but this was probably in order that he might win the popularity which he coveted. He liked to make a big show, and his racing colours were all gold. After a while Pierce rose, yawned, and expressed his determination to go to bed. The two young men had dined late, and their discussion had been a prolonged one. "Good-night, old chap," he said, "and don't worry your mind more than you can help. Things may come all right, after all. Asmodeus is a good horse, and there are a lot who fancy him." Mostyn looked up brightly as he nodded good-night. "Oh, I'm not worrying!" he said, "the whole thing has been a gamble, hasn't it, Pierce? And he's a poor gambler who growls at his losses." CHAPTER XVI. MOSTYN IS TEMPTED. Left alone, Mostyn drew his arm-chair nearer the fire, and settling himself comfortably, gave himself up to solitary reflection. The evenings were still fresh, for May had set in unseasonably, and a fire was by no means to be despised. It was, indeed, because the dining-room was the warmer of the two sitting-rooms that Mostyn had elected to occupy it that evening. Frazer, the man-servant, had long ago cleared the table, and so Mostyn did not expect to be disturbed. Of course, as was only natural, his thoughts turned to Rada. And now, as he sat gazing into the fire, he knew that he had been very dense. That foolish stubbornness of his--it was there that the blame lay. He had made up his mind that Rada's injunction was to be obeyed strictly and to the letter, and so he had put temptation behind him, even when his common-sense, combined with his racing experience, told him that the time had come to force the pace. He had refrained from speaking, although, over and over again, he had read invitation in Rada's eyes; he had given his word to her, he had given his word to Pierce; besides, Rada's semi-engagement to Jack Treves was still an accepted fact, and so Mostyn argued that until she, voluntarily and of her own accord, elected to break with Jack, he had no right to interfere. He had never doubted that she would do this after the Derby, when the question of a formal engagement was to be raised.