dearer. Alfred follows them with his wild eyes. They pass like a flash of lightning, so close together that he does not know whether he has won or lost. His agony is increased by the conflicting cries, 'The Cunning One wins! Don't Touch Me wins!' Which is right? A calm voice says, 'I'll bet fifty to one that pink came in first;' and the speaker receives a swift grateful look from Alfred. What an age it seems before the black board is hoisted that proclaims the winner! Here it is at last. Hurrah! hurrah! The numbers proclaim Don't Touch Me first; the Cunning One second. Alfred gives a great sigh of relief; his heart was almost bursting; he wipes his forehead, and looks round with a triumphant air. The horse he backed has won the race, and he wins a hundred and seventy pounds. He sees the man from whom he has to receive the largest stake, and he walks towards him in an apparently unconcerned manner. The man is studying his book with a serious air. This man has a bulbous face, and every knob on it is aflame, so that it looks like a mountain dotted with signal fires. Many of the people are eagerly canvassing the race; some are radiant, some are despairing. Here is one man tearing betting-tickets with his teeth, and flinging the pieces away savagely. Here is another, shouting exultantly to an acquaintance, Nipped him, this time, Jo! I put a tenner on! Here is another, scowling at every face that meets his gaze. Here is one who staggers like a drunken man, but who nevertheless has not tasted liquor this day. Alfred has no eye for any of these; despair, joy, exultation, remorse, surge around him, and he does not heed them. He thinks of himself only, and burns with impatience to hear the magic cry All right!' so that he may

claim his winnings. Five minutes pass, and no signal comes from the saddling paddock that it is all right. What can be the meaning of the delay? Another minute, and another and another passand then comes a cry from the paddock, Don't pay! An objection!' The scouts take up the cry, and it is all over the field in an instant. 'Don't pay?' 'Don't pay !' rings from one end to another; the bookmakers shut their books, and look impenetrable; the excited backers of Don't Touch Me present their tickets for payment to the keepers of the list outside the ring, and all the satisfaction they get is 'Don't you hear? there's an objection.' The curses, the oaths, are dreadful to hear. Alfred is dazed for a moment. It is not possible that the cup can be dashed from his lips! He also staggers like a drunken man, and a sickening feeling comes upon him. 'What's the objection?' he asks of a bookmaker, in a tone that sounds strange in his own ears. His lips are white, his limbs are trembling, his heart sinks within him. 'Don't Touch Me won the such-and-such Cup a month ago,' is the answer; 'incurred a penalty of five pounds, and did not carry it. The stewards are settling the dispute now. We shall know in a few minutes, but the Cunning One will get it.' The feeling that is upon Alfred is like the fear that comes to some men whose lives have been ill spent, and who have not many minutes to live. He walks about, and hears vaguely the indignant comments of the backers of Don't Touch Me, and the hopeful anticipations of the backers of the Cunning One. What is one man's meat is another man's poison. partisan of Don't Touch Me is especially noisy. 'Strike me blind,' he cries, if it isn't a plant! The owner didn't back the horse for a shilling. He stands in with the

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owner of the Cunning One; and if the Cunning One gets the race, as he's sure to, they'll divide four thousand between them.' How the objection is settled is not known until after the next race is run, and then a notice is stuck up that Don't Touch Me is disqualified, and that the race is awarded to the Cunning One. Thus Don't Touch Me justifies the warning that lies in his name, and thus Alfred's castle once more crumbles into dust, and he is robbed of his money. What a fool I was,' he groans, not to have been content with my winnings on Never Despair! What an idiot to back a horse with such a name!' He sees the warning now, and, almost blind with despair, stumbles against people, and is pushed aside roughly. But he himself is not to blame, not he. Fate is against him; ill-luck follows him. Who could have foreseen such a calamity as this? If it had not been for this piece of deliberate villany for so he settled in his mind that it was-he would have been able to make reparation for his fault, and to be kind to those he loved. I did it all for them,' he groans. The pieces of paper with the names ofthe horses written upon them are still in his pocket. He puts in his hand, and draws the Cunning One. 'If I hadn't been so hasty!' he thinks. 'I oughtn't to have settled it the first draw. If I had only tried a second time! I could have got a thousand pounds to thirty, as that swell did! I should have had two thousand pounds in my pocket this minute ! And I could have done so much good with the money-for Lil, and Lizzie, and all of us! Fool that I was! Fool that I was! And so staggers away, and in these miserable repinings passes the day and the night that follow.

CHAPTER XXVI.

SURPRISES.

ALFRED remained silent for so long a time, that Lily had to repeat her question; and again, in a timid tone, she asked him why their grandfather must not be told of his troubles and joys. Alfred asked her, in reply, whether she did not have confidence in him, whether she mistrusted him, whether she thought he had not good reason for what he said? To all these questions she answered, O, yes, yes; she had full confidence in him; she trusted him thoroughly; she knew that he must have the best of reasons for his desire that their grandfather should not be made acquainted with his se

crets.

'There isn't another person in the world,' said Alfred, that I would confide in but you; but I could not keep anything secret for long from the dearest sister that man ever had, and whom I lovewell, you know how I love you, Lily.'

She answered sweetly, Yes, she knew; had he not given proof of it this day? She would be worthy of his confidence; he need be sure of that. Alfred received these heartfelt protestations graciously.

'So that was settled,' he said, ' and they were to each other what they ought to be.'

And what we always were,' she added anxiously, and always will

be.'

'That's so, Lil,' he said, more easy in his manner; 'I feel better for having spoken to you, and now I shall smoke a cigar. What do you think Lizzie did the other night, Lil? I asked her in fun to light my cigar for me, and she actually did, and took a puff. She didn't like it, though; but she'll do anything for me. There's one thing I've been thinking of, Lil. When

you and Lizzie are friends-as you're sure to be directly you see each other-it will be nice for you; for now I think of it, you never had a girl friend, did you?'

'There's Mrs. Gribble,' answered Lily, and Mrs. Podmore, and little Polly-'

'O yes, they're all very well in their way, but they're married women, and little Polly's only a child. What I mean is, a girl of your own age-one that you can say all sorts of things to that you can't say to any one else.'

'No,' replied Lily, 'I have never had a girl friend; it would be nice.'

'Lizzie's just the girl for you,' said Alfred. How I should like to be hidden somewhere, and hear you talking about ME! Mind you always look under the table when you're talking secrets, Lil, for I shall look out for an opportunity to hear what you two girls have to say about me.'

They made merry over this, and extracted from it all kinds of gay possibilities to suit their humour; but in the midst of her mirth a sudden change came over Lily, and a look of fear stole into her face. Alfred, looking up for the cause, saw nothing but a man gazing at them, at a very few yards' distance from where they were sitting. The man had been walking towards them, and had paused on the instant that the change came over Lily. He was a stranger to .Alfred, and Alfred saw nothing in his appearance to cause alarm.

An ordinary-looking man, brownbearded, and with a remarkably clear gray eye.

'What's the matter, Lily?' cried Alfred.

But Lily did not reply, her eyes being fixed upon the man's face. The man himself, evidently surprised and pleased at the impression he had created, stood still, and would not have moved quickly

away, but for Alfred's starting towards him. Then he raised his hat, and walked on, Lily's eyes following him until he was out of sight. Do you know the man, Lily?' asked Alfred.

What did you say?' was Lily's reply, dreamily spoken.

'Do you know the man?' repeated Alfred.

Lily looked at him, at first without seeing him; gradually the mist before her eyes cleared, and she said nervously,

'What were we speaking of, Alfred, just now?' "Of Lizzie.

are you?'

You're not ill, Lil,

O, no; what should make you think so?'

'That man we saw just now; you seemed to be so strangely fascinated by him.'

Lily looked on the ground in silence for a few moments before she spoke.

'I am quite well, Alf. Do not let us speak of the man again. He seemed to me to come out of the ground suddenly, or out of the light, and I didn't see anything but him as he stood before us.'

'One of your fancies, Lil.'

'Yes, dear; one of my fancies. Girls are not so strong-minded as men, you know.'

He laughed, and quitted the subject, thinking no more of it. But it was not so with Lily. Although she did not speak again of the stranger, she thought of him during the whole of the day. She knew him immediately she saw him; he was the man who had performed as an electro-biologist at the music-hall, and who had fascinated her then in the same singular manner as he had done now; the same man described by old Wheels to Felix. She made a strong effort to remember what Alfred had been talking about, and soon succeeded.

'You said a little while ago, Alf,

'But how can you make a thousand pounds by that, Alf? A thousand pounds! I never heard of so much money.'

not expected to understand these things. As to its being not right, that's neither here nor there. What you've got to do is to find out the secret, get into the swim, and make money. And that's what I've got the chance of doing. But I haven't explained it all. Here am I with

the tip; I know the horse that's going to win. Well, what do I do, naturally? I bet on that horse. I put as much money on that horse as ever I can scrape together, and when the race is over, there I am

'Little simpleton! I'll show you as much one day, and more thousands at the back of it. How can I make it? Why, I'll tell you. Here I am with "the tip." The tip,' he continued, noticing her puzzled look, 'is the secret that some of us get hold of as to which horse is going to win a race.'

'O,' was Lily's simple reply. 'That's what the tip is,' said Alfred, with a confident air; he was in his glory, airing himself on racing matters. And I've got it for the Cesarewitch.'

'Do they know, then, beforehand what horse is going to win a race?'

'Sometimes pretty nearly, you know. Some horses that run haven't a chance; some are not intended to win-'

'Is that right, Alf?'

'Of course it is. If a man has a horse and can't back it, perhaps he backs another; then of course he doesn't want his own horse to win, for if it does he loses his money.'

Lily shook her head.

'I can't understand it; it doesn't seem quite right to me; but of course you know best.'

'Of course I do, Lil. Women are

'But tell me, Alf! Isn't that gambling? and isn't gambling wrong? I've heard grandfather say it is.'

'Gambling! Wrong! Grandfather!' exclaimed Alfred contemptuously. 'What does grandfather know of such things? When he was a young man, things were dif ferent. A young fellow didn't have the chance he's got now of making a fortune in a day, if he's wide awake. That's why I don't want grandfather to know anything of this, nor anything that I've been speaking of. And of course you'll not tell him, Lil, for you've promised.'

'You may depend upon me, dear Alf. It's for your good.'

But she said these last words in a doubting tone.

'That it is, and for yours, and for Lizzie's, and for grandfather's too. As to its being gambling and wrong-now, look here, Lil. You know what grandfather thinks of

the newspapers. You know how he's always speaking in praise of them, and saying what capital things they are, and what a blessing it is that a poor man can get all the news of the world for a penny. You know that, Lil.’ 'Yes, dear.'

'Why, it was only last week that grandfather said that the cheap newspapers were the poor man's best friend and best educator, because they taught him things and showed him truthfully what was going on round about him, and that they were doing more in their quiet way for the improvement of the people than anything he ever remembered in his time.'

'Yes, dear, I heard him say so.' 'To be sure you did. Well, then, you look in the newspapers, and see what they say of racing. Why, they give columns upon columns about it. They employ regular prophets and tipsters, and pay 'em handsomely-regular fly men, who think they know every move on the board; and they tell you what horses to back, and what horses are going to win. They are educators and improvers, I can tell you, Lil! And they tell a fellow lots of things worth knowing— though I don't follow them always; not I! I know as much as they do, sometimes, and a little more, perhaps. But I read them; I read every word the prophets write. Why, I spend sixpence a day often in papers; if it wasn't for what the prophets write in them, I don't suppose I'd spend a penny.'

If Alfred had said that the columns devoted in the newspapers to the vaticinations of the prophets were his Bible, he would have been as near to the truth as he ever was in his life. The lessons they taught were bearing bitter fruit. Not for him alone; for thousands of others.

'There's the Cambridgeshire and the Cesarewitch,' continued Alfred,

VOL. XI.

'going to be run for soon. All the best horses in England are entered. There won't be less than three columns about each race in some of the newspapers, and people get to know which horses have the best chances, and which horses are sure to run straight. Though, to be sure, you never can depend upon that. You must keep your eyes open. But come now, Lily, ain't you satisfied that there's nothing wrong in a young fellow doing a little betting now and then?'

'I don't see how there can be any wrong in it after what you've told me, Alf.'

And after what grandfather said,' he added.

'Yes, and after what grandfather said, my dear.'

'So then,' he summed up, that's where it is.'

Which was Alfred's almost invariable way of disposing of a question.

'And here I have a chance,' he presently resumed, 'of getting out of all my money troubles, and of making everything straight for you and Lizzie, and all of us.'

'But,' insisted Lily, 'I am very happy, Alf.'

'Well, I'm going to make you happier, Lil. But you can't be quite happy, Lil, when I am in trouble.'

'O, no, my dear,' she said quickly: 'I forgot. Forgive me for my selfishness. But you'll be out of it soon.'

'It depends a good deal upon you, Lil.'

'How upon me, dear?'

'Well, I don't quite know if it depends upon you, but it may, and of course I'm anxious; for to tell you the truth, I owe some money which I must pay very soon, or it will be all up with me.'

'O, Alfred!'

'It's true, Lil, every word I'm telling you. My contemptible screw

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