Poor Kami. He was in despair. "Alas!" he replied, reluctantly,
"nothing could be more simple. I wanted to set up a racing
stable. Not that I care much for sport. I can scarcely
distinguish a horse from a mule--but morning and evening,
everybody says to me: 'Prince, a man like you ought to make your
name celebrated on the turf.' Besides I never open a paper
without reading: 'Such a man ought to be a patron of the noblest
of sports.' At last, I said to myself: 'Yes, they are right. I
ought to take part in racing.' So I began to look about for some
horses. I had purchased several, when the Marquis de Valorsay
proposed to sell me some of his, some that were very well known,
and that had--so he assured me--won at least ten times the amount
they had cost him. I accepted his offer, and visited his stables,
where I selected seven of his best horses and paid for them; and I
paid a good round price, I assure you. Now comes the knavery. He
has not given me the horses I purchased. The real animals, the
valuable ones--have been sold in England under false names, and
although the horses sent to me may be like the others in
appearance, they are really only common animals, wanting both in
blood and speed."
Pascal and the baron exchanged astonished glances. It must be
confessed that frauds of every description are common enough in
the racing world, and a great deal of dishonest manoeuvring
results from greed for gain united with the fever of gambling.
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