The Jalna Saga – Deluxe Edition: All Sixteen Books of the Enduring Classic Series & The Biography of Mazo de la Roche (601 page)

He said, “I’ve had a very interesting talk with the Chases, who have rented a part of Humphrey Bell’s house.”

“I’ve heard of them,” she said eagerly. “Was it about a horse?”

“It was. Adeline, you remember how I once won the Grand National?”

“Oh, Daddy, it was glorious — the happiest day of my life!”

“Really and truly the happiest, Adeline?”

“Yes. There was a victory! And that lovely horse — Johnny the Bird. Why did you sell him, Daddy?”

“I needed the money. There was the war —”

“You went to the war. And you’ve never since had such a stroke of luck! what a pity!”

They stood side by side admiring the framed photograph of Johnny the Bird. Renny said, “I have never since owned a racehorse, but, by Judas — I’ve a mind to have a look at one I have just heard of.”

“From the Chases?”

“Yes. They say he’s a wonder — on any sort of track. They’d heard about the legacy from Uncle Nicholas and they think I should be safe in investing part of it in this horse. I’m not in the least influenced by Mrs. Chase, but Chase is one of the best judges of horses I ever have known. And Mr. Crowdy agrees that this horse has a great future. Now, Adeline, not a word of this to your mother or to anyone.”

“Never a word! Oh, Daddy” — she threw her arms about his neck — “promise that you will take me to see him. I couldn’t bear not to go.”

He gave her a fond look. “Of course I’ll take you to see him.”

Suddenly serious, she asked, “Daddy, is he very expensive?’

“Very.”

“May I know?”

Renny could not resist the impulse to tell her. He wanted to see her open wide her eyes in astonishment, to discover whether she would give her approval to such a venture. But there was nothing she would not risk to be one with him. She did indeed open her eyes in sheer amazement but in the same moment she laughed with delight. “Oh, marvellous,” she cried. “why, that’s the sort of price very rich men pay! But — if Mr. Crowdy and Mr. Chase say the horse is worth it — I’ll bet he is. And I’m absolutely sure Uncle Nicholas would approve.”

She could have said nothing more pleasing to Renny. He beamed at her. “But remember,” he said, “it’s a secret.”

“I’ll remember.”

The following day they two and the Chases set out for the stables where the racehorse was to be seen, and were met there by Mr. Crowdy. He was a heavily built man, stout rather than fat, with an air somewhere between that of a countryman and a frequenter of the racetracks. Nature had endowed him with an expression of great sagacity which had been an invaluable asset to him. He had had more bad luck than good, yet his hope had never flagged. He was a warm friend and a forgiving foe. He had a curious habit of stretching out the palm of his left hand when he was about to make a statement of importance, and, with the forefinger of his right hand, making mysterious signs on it, as of the writing on the wall. Now, standing outside the loose-box of the racehorse, along with Renny, Adeline, and Chase (the owner having retired to a little distance), he fixed his eyes on his extended palm, drew some cryptic design on it, then said in his husky voice:

“You can’t go wrong in making this deal.”

“It’s a lot of money to risk,” said Renny.

“I wish I could take the risk.”

Chase put in, “
You
have seen his record. A good one for so young a horse. Wait till you see him in action.”

The fine big chestnut colt looked out at them with mild interest. He mouthed his thick velvety lips as though he had an agreeable taste in his mouth.

Renny said, “He looks more like a big overgrown baby than a racehorse.”

“True,” agreed Mr. Crowdy solemnly. “True. That’s how he looks.”

“How can Mr. Turner ask so much for him,” demanded Adeline, “when he’s had so few important wins?”

“In both instances he beat the favourite,” said Crowdy. “One on a hard dry track, the other on a muddy one.”

“We’ll live to see him sire some winners,” said Chase.

Soon they saw the colt in action, ridden by a groom. There was a further consultation. Adeline was on tiptoe with excitement. With all the magnetic power in her, she drew Renny on to buy the colt. “Uncle Nick would want you to,” she whispered. “I know he would.” With the eyes she had inherited from her great-grandmother she implored him.

He would think it over, he told them, make up his mind by tomorrow. His mind, however, was made up for him by the entrance of an American who had come to see the colt. The price seemed not to shock the American. He nonchalantly considered it, then said, “I’ve a good mind to buy this fellow. He looks as though he’d plenty of stamina. His record’s fine for so young a horse.” He made these remarks to Renny, not knowing that he too was a prospective buyer.

Messrs. Crowdy and Chase, overhearing this, gave Renny such looks of passionate pleading that what resistance he still fostered melted under their fire. Added to this he felt springing up between him and the colt that promise of trust and good-fellowship which is sometimes born between horse and man at first sight. He gave the owner a nod. The deal was settled.

Back at Jalna Adeline ran toward the house from the stables. The exultation of her spirit uplifted her. She could not walk but must come as near to flying as possible. A strong wind was blowing her hair back from her face. “East Wind!” she exclaimed. “A lucky omen!” She ran to where she saw Fitzturgis strolling along the drive and called out, “Such news! We’ve bought a racehorse.”

“Well, there’s nothing very new about that, is there?” he asked without enthusiasm.

“
New?
”
she cried. “
New?
Why, it’s terrifically new. We haven’t owned a racehorse for years and years. Ours are show horses — hunters — steeplechasers. But this colt is a
wonder
, darling. Everybody says so. His name is East Wind and there’s an east wind blowing!”

Fitzturgis took her hand in a peremptory gesture.

“The only wind that interests me,” he said, “is the wind that will blow us to the altar.”

“Oh, Mait, what a lovely thing to say!” She laid her bright head on his shoulder, but only for a moment. Then she raised it and looked searchingly into his eyes. “But surely,” she said, “you are excited by our owning a racehorse.”

“I shall try to be. Tell me more about him.”

Adeline poured out the tale of the colt’s wins, his exceeding promise, ending by saying, “Wasn’t it lucky that we had this money from Uncle Nicholas? Otherwise we never could have bought him.”

“Did he cost a lot?”

So proud of the purchase was Adeline, so magical did it appear to her that the Jalna stables were to possess this equine wonder, that, without a second thought, she broke her promise to Renny. And, after all, she and Maitland were soon to be one. She said:

“Guess.”

“A thousand dollars.”

“Oh, Mait, what do you think we were buying? A workhorse? More!”

“Two thousand.”

“Multiply that by six!” She looked triumphant.

He was aghast. “Good Lord,” he exclaimed. “That’s about half your uncle’s legacy.”

“And why not?” she said defiantly. “It couldn’t be put to better use. But you mustn’t tell anybody. I remember now that I promised not to tell.”

But Fitzturgis did tell. At the first opportunity he followed Alayne into the library and closed the door after him. She gave him a welcoming and enquiring look.

“Have you heard?” he asked.

“I have heard nothing new,” she smiled, thinking how much she liked his looks.

“I suppose I should not tell this,” he said, “but I feel bound to — in the hope that you may be able to do something about it. But — perhaps you won’t mind.”

She said nothing, just waited.

“Adeline has been telling me,” he said, “that her father has agreed to pay twelve thousand dollars for that colt they went to see. Of course, it’s none of my business.”

“I didn’t know. I never hear of these things till they are accomplished.” Now her lips were set in anger. “Oh, how could he? It’s nothing short of insane.”

“I’ve seen too many fortunes lost on the racetrack,” he said. “I hate to think of your having such a loss.”

“I don’t suppose it will affect me one way or the other,” she said. “If the money didn’t go into a racehorse it would be spent on the stables.” She added, with a kind of breathless sharpness in her voice, “My husband lives for his horses.”

Fitzturgis made a sympathetic sound. He dared not trust himself to speak, for at that moment he lumped Renny and his daughter together as stubborn devotees of a senseless pursuit.

Alayne gave a little laugh. “I comfort myself with one thought,” she said. “I had rather he were absorbed in horseflesh than in big business. I should find that unbearable.”

“At least he’d have something to show for it,” Fitzturgis said curtly.

“Not the perfect health he enjoys.”

“I do admire his physique,” said Fitzturgis with sincerity. “He’s as thin and muscular as a man of twenty-five.”

“He has scarcely a grey hair,” she exclaimed, “and look at me!”

“Your hair is beautiful,” he said tenderly. “At the moment of our meeting I noticed it and I thought — how beautiful!”

She looked up into his eyes from where she sat at her writing table. For some reason her heart quickened its beat. She felt happy in his presence.

When he had gone and she heard Renny’s step in the hall she went out and faced him.

He gave her a keen look, for there was something in her bearing that put him on his guard.

“So,” she said, “you have bought a racehorse.”

“why, yes … who told you?”

“Maitland. He had it from Adeline.” There was nothing in Alayne’s face to encourage him. Still he broke out:

“Alayne, you ought to see him. Of course, you will see him very soon. The most promising colt you ever laid eyes on. I’m sure you’ll never regret that I bought him.”

She said stiffly, “I hope you won’t regret the fantastic price you’re paying for him.”

“I suppose Mait told you that, too?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t see how the hell he found out…. Oh yes — Adeline!” His lips showed his chagrin. “I told her to tell no one.”

“I suppose she was too delighted to keep it to herself. But it doesn’t matter. I can’t do anything to stop you.”

“To stop me,” he echoed.

“Yes. Any sane person would surely try to stop you…. Poor Uncle Nicholas — I wonder what he would feel if he could know how his money is being thrown away!”

“It is not being thrown away,” he said defiantly. “It’s being invested — to what I believe is the best advantage.” Alayne shrugged her shoulders in despair. The spaniel came to the door and looked in at them, then turned and went out again. It was as though the sight of them together was too much for him.

Renny caressed the carved cluster of grapes that decorated the newel post, then said deliberately, “I should know better than to expect sympathy from you in any venture of mine.”

“If only they were of a different sort,” she exclaimed.

“You knew what I was when you married me.”

“Surely,” she said, speaking calmly, determined not to quarrel, “surely we may expect to develop through life.”

“God only knows,” he said, “what you expected me to develop into, but I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with me as I am.”

The spaniel was waiting outside for him. Together they went toward the stables.

Renny saw Adeline leaning on the gate of a field behind the paddock watching a dozen of the show horses at pasture. He took her not gently by the nape and said:

“You’re a fine one, aren’t you, to keep a secret?”

She screwed round her head to look at him.

“Me? what have I done?”

“You told that precious Irishman of yours what I’m paying for the colt and he went straight to your mother with the news.”

Adeline was for a moment struck dumb. Then she got out, “No — surely not! Oh, Daddy!”

“In future,” he said, “I shall know better than to confide in you.”

She could not speak. Two large tears rolled down her cheeks. He released her neck and crammed both hands in his pockets. He began to whistle “A hundred pipers and a.’”

The horses in the field had collected in a group to observe them. They stood motionless, like horses of bronze. Then, with one accord, as though in an outburst of high spirits or even of some lofty emotion, they uttered a series of high-pitched neighs that were almost musical, that approached the singing of some primitive chorus. Then, moved by the same glorious emotion, they broke into a gallop and swept to the far end of the large field. There again they neighed; then swept round and galloped back, with the onslaught of an attacking army. Once more in their starting point they halted, in various striking attitudes, the east wind blowing their manes and tails.

Whatever feelings had evoked this outburst now had passed. The horses separated and began mildly to crop the grass. Father and daughter stood in silence watching them. His hand lay on the gate, and Adeline, in childlike contrition, sought to put hers beneath it. In spite of the graceful femininity of her hand and the well-knit masculinity of his there was a noticeable resemblance between them — the oval of the nails, the broad palm and slender fingers. He refused, however, to give sanctuary to her hand. He turned away.

Adeline left him and almost ran, her tears half blinding her, to where she saw Fitzturgis leaving the stables in company with Wright, the head groom.

“Did you want me, miss?” asked Wright, who had known her all her life and was familiar with her signs of distress or temper, and thought her perfect in all.

“No, no, Wright — go to your tea. Thanks.”

“Very well, miss…. You’re sure there’s nothing I can do?”

“Well, Wright,” she exclaimed hotly, “if you can teach Mr. Fitzturgis how to keep his word — I shall be very glad.”

Much embarrassed, Wright mumbled, “Hm-mph — I guess you’re the one to teach him that, miss.” He turned and hurried to his flat above the garage.

Fitzturgis gave Adeline a look of astonishment, of outrage. “Will you please explain what you mean,” he demanded, “by that remark?”