"But what about Markham?" he objected. "I suppose you'll consult him first? It's hardly likely that he'd trust me on 'The Padre'."

"That will be all right. I can manage Captain Markham."

"Oh indeed, madame!" observed Jim. "Another wretched victim of your wiles, I suppose?"

"Exactly so, sir. I trust this will show you the necessity for good behaviour if you wish to remain honoured by my favour."

Ensign Russell was beginning to think that after all engaged couples did not of necessity behave in quite so silly a fashion as he had imagined.

Certainly these two seemed to enjoy poking fun at one another, and showed no signs of "spooning", each treating the other as the best of friends. Ethel was undoubtedly an uncommonly jolly girl, quite without "side", and the boy was enjoying the ride immensely. How they behaved when he was not present he had no means of judging. Possibly he would have changed his opinion had he known.

By this time the three had returned close to the regimental parade-ground, and, obedient to the pressure of Ted's right leg, "Tommy Dodd" wheeled and trotted towards his stable.

Captain Markham was only too glad to learn from Miss Woodburn of our hero's riding capabilities and willingness to mount "The Padre". The owner explained to Ted that he had bestowed this name on the animal on account of its wonderful good temper and gentle nature.

"If ever there was a genial horse it's 'The Padre'. Whatever happens, you feel that you simply can't lose your temper whilst you're riding him, he would be so shocked and hurt."

"You should mount Tynan on him, then," suggested Ted, in allusion to a brother ensign, a lad of seventeen, who rarely omitted to include a few blackguardly oaths in his conversation.

"That little wretch! I wouldn't allow him to touch 'The Padre', even with his gloves on. I shall be kicking that sweet youth one of these days--hard! I wish he would see the advisability of exchanging into some other regiment."

"The Padre" was a gray four-year-old thoroughbred; a compact horse, to whose bold, friendly, wide-apart eyes Ted at once took a liking. His long lean head and well-shaped neck, firmly set on good sloping shoulders, augured a first-class chaser, as did also his powerful back and loins, strong quarters, and short flat feet. Ted looked him over, and knew enough to appreciate these points, and was also glad to notice that there was plenty of length from hip to hock.

"The last half-mile of the course is downhill," Markham informed him, "and that is where 'The Padre's' shoulders will come in."

Ted mounted the gray, and almost before his knees had gripped the saddle he felt that he had never been on so noble a beast before. He trotted and cantered up and down the parade-ground before giving the horse his head, and then returned to the owner flushed and joyful.

The captain's eyes twinkled.

"You'll do, I think, Russell; I can easily see that you like one another."

"He's just grand!" was the boy's enthusiastic comment.

CHAPTER II

An Exciting Day

Every morning saw the boy thoroughly practising his mount, encouraged by the owner, and at length the eventful day arrived.

A large and gay crowd had gathered about the course, and included every white man and woman in the station, not to speak of the thousands of Sikhs, Punjabis, Afghans, and Hindus who had assembled to witness the Englishman's sport. The 193rd Native Infantry had turned out in hundreds, keen on the victory of Markham Sahib's horse, and ready to applaud until their voices gave out. There were officers in uniform and officers without uniform; many coming from distant stations to witness the race, which was the most important in that part of the Punjab.

Several of the British, and one or two of the native officers of the Ahmednuggur Irregular Cavalry, had travelled down to back Lieutenant Harrington. A wild-looking native officer of the Guides, who had come to watch Spencer Sahib win the cup, was pointed out by Jim as a celebrated robber and cut-throat, Bahram Khan by name.

"Rummy beggar is Bahram Khan!" declared the captain. "Dick Turpin was an infant to him. Look how the Punjabis and Hindus are gazing at him, and how he grins back--and then they begin to shiver."

"Why? Are they afraid of him?"

"Rather. I'll tell you who he is afterwards."

"A pleasant type of man to have in one's regiment, Ted," was Ethel's comment in a stage aside.

"Disgusting!" was the laconic response.

On the outskirts of the crowd several Pathan dealers were taking advantage of the presence of so many lovers of horses to sell their ponies and country-bred steeds to the unwary. Nor were the inevitable jugglers and snake-charmers wanting. The fences were stiff, even to the lad who had hunted over the best country in Cheshire, and the water-jumps were big, though no wider than some he had taken "The Padre"

over during the past few days. The course was rather more than three miles, the last six hundred yards being a straight run to the winning-post.

A native officer came out of the throng and caressed "The Padre".

"Mind you win, Ensign Sahib," laughed Subadar Pir Baksh, "for the honour of the corps."

"I will try my best, Subadar," Ted assured him; and Pir Baksh showed his even white teeth as he playfully threatened the ensign should he lose.

"Now, old boy," was Ethel's greeting, "never speak to me again if our 'Padre' loses--he's the horse of the regiment, you must remember.

Whatever you do don't let that horrid Guide man win. An upstart corps like that, recruited from Thugs and Dacoits, must never get the better of the old-established 193rd."

"'Horrid Guide man' indeed!" laughed Jim. "Spencer's one of the best men I know; and remember, my lady, that you will be a Guide woman very soon."

Changing the subject he added: "You're only fifth favourite, Ted."

"Didn't know I was so high as that. Who's favourite?"

"The 'horrible Guide' horse and the 'Duck's' mount, 'Flying Fox', are equal, the Ahmednuggur comes next, and you are fifth."

"Never mind, Ted," said Ethel encouragingly. "'The Padre' was second favourite when it was thought that Markham would be up, and you're lighter than he."

"But that won't make any difference; I shall have to carry the extra weight."

"Oh, will you? That's not fair!"

Jim laughed. "Go and talk to the handicapper, Ethel; use your wiles on the innocent man and explain the unfairness! I intended to put a couple of rupees, young 'un, on Spencer's 'Cabul' for the sake of the corps, but this tyrant has forbidden the transaction. Never get engaged, lad; you see what it's brought me to--I have to obey. She says that she objects to betting, but in reality she objects to my sticking up for my own regiment."

"I'm ashamed of your relative, Ted," the girl asserted. "He's no brotherly feeling. Fancy wanting to bet against your mount!"

"It's just like him!" the ensign feelingly declared. "I don't understand how anyone so dainty as you, Ethel, could stoop to such an Orson."

Ethel blushed and Jim exploded.

"Here, drop that, young 'un; you mustn't trespass on my preserves. Fancy the kid paying a compliment of that kind! Why, little woman, he told me about ten days ago that you were 'a very ordinary sort of girl', and that 'he didn't see much in you'."

"Well, he's made up for it now. It was a very pretty compliment, Ted, and I thank you.... I often wonder myself."

After the preliminary canter Ted brought his horse to the starting-post, where seven other competitors had already assembled. "The Padre" was not the technical favourite, yet he was decidedly the most popular horse there, for Captain Markham was better liked by the sepoys of the 193rd than any of the officers, although Colonel Woodburn and several of the others were highly popular with the men. The sepoys quite drowned all the other noises of the crowd by their vociferous acclamations, and the young rider was the recipient of numerous encouraging remarks and hearty good-wishes from his brother officers and from the ladies of the Aurungpore station.

Lieutenant Spencer's black horse "Cabul" had now advanced to the position of first favourite. "Cabul" was easily the best-looking horse present, as his rider was the most handsome and perfect horseman. The officer of the Guides Cavalry sat like a centaur, and our hero saw at a glance that he could not hope to compete in "noble horsemanship" with his brother's comrade. The black, however, seemed nervous and fretful, and his shoulders were lightly flecked with foam. Bahram Khan, the famous brigand chief, sat by Spencer's side before they prepared for the start, soothing and caressing the noble beast as he talked earnestly to its rider.

"He's a good horse," observed Markham, "but he's not perfect; his shoulders can't compare with 'The Padre's', and I doubt whether he's quite so game, for mine enjoys it, and that's not common in steeple-chasing. You should beat him down the hill."