I thought of Sir Lothian's murderous repute as a duellist, and I trembled for my uncle.
"Now, sir, if you imagine that you have a grievance against me, you will oblige me vastly by putting it into words."
"I will," said my uncle. "There has been a conspiracy to maim or kidnap my man, and I have every reason to believe that you are privy to it."
An ugly sneer came over Sir Lothian's saturnine face.
"I see," said he. "Your man has not come on quite as well as you had expected in his training, and you are hard put to it to invent an excuse. Still, I should have thought that you might have found a more probable one, and one which would entail less serious consequences."
"Sir," answered my uncle, "you are a liar, but how great a liar you are nobody knows save yourself."
Sir Lothian's hollow cheeks grew white with passion, and I saw for an instant in his deep-set eyes such a glare as comes from the frenzied hound rearing and ramping at the end of its chain. Then, with an effort, he became the same cold, hard, self-contained man as ever.
"It does not become our position to quarrel like two yokels at a fair," said he; "we shall go further into the matter afterwards."
"I promise you that we shall," answered my uncle, grimly.
"Meanwhile, I hold you to the terms of your wager. Unless you produce your nominee within five-and-twenty minutes, I claim the match."
"Eight-and-twenty minutes," said my uncle, looking at his watch. "You may claim it then, but not an instant before."
He was admirable at that moment, for his manner was that of a man with all sorts of hidden resources, so that I could hardly make myself realize as I looked at him that our position was really as desperate as I knew it to be. In the meantime Berkeley Craven, who had been exchanging a few words with Sir Lothian Hume, came back to our side.
"I have been asked to be sole referee in this matter," said he. "Does that meet with your wishes, Sir Charles?"
"I should be vastly obliged to you, Craven, if you will undertake the duties."
"And Jackson has been suggested as timekeeper."
"I could not wish a better one."
"Very good. That is settled."
In the meantime the last of the carriages had come up, and the horses had all been picketed upon the moor. The stragglers who had dotted the grass had closed in until the huge crowd was one unit with a single mighty voice, which was already beginning to bellow its impatience. Looking round, there was hardly a moving object upon the whole vast expanse of green and purple down. A belated gig was coming at full gallop down the road which led from the south, and a few pedestrians were still trailing up from Crawley, but nowhere was there a sign of the missing man.
"The betting keeps up for all that," said Belcher. "I've just been to the ring-side, and it is still even."
"There's a place for you at the outer ropes, Sir Charles," said Craven.
"There is no sign of my man yet. I won't come in until he arrives."
"It is my duty to tell you that only ten minutes are left."
"I make it five," cried Sir Lothian Hume.
"That is a question which lies with the referee," said Craven, firmly. "My watch makes it ten minutes, and ten it must be."
"Here's Crab Wilson!" cried Belcher, and at the same moment a shout like a thunderclap burst from the crowd. The west countryman had emerged from his dressing-tent, followed by Dutch Sam and Tom Owen, who were acting as his seconds. He was nude to the waist, with a pair of white calico drawers, white silk stockings, and running shoes. Round his middle was a canary-yellow sash, and dainty little ribbons of the same colour fluttered from the sides of his knees. He carried a high white hat in his hand, and running down the lane which had been kept open through the crowd to allow persons to reach the ring, he threw the hat high into the air, so that it fell within the staked inclosure. Then with a double spring he cleared the outer and inner line of rope, and stood with his arms folded in the centre.