The Obstacle Race

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The Obstacle Race

The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Obstacle Race, by Ethel M. Dell This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
Title: The Obstacle Race
Author: Ethel M. Dell
Release Date: March 9, 2004 [EBook #11520]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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The Obstacle Race
By Ethel M. Dell
1921

I DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO MY DEAR "HALF-SISTER," MARY, WITH MY LOVE
"So run, that ye may obtain."--I Corinthians 9:24
Give me the ready brain and steadfast face To dare the hazard and to run the race, The high heart that no scathing word can stay O'erleaping obstacles that bar the way, The sportsman's soul that, failing at the end, Can smile upon the victory of a friend, And to my judges make this one protest,-- A poor performance but--I did my best!

CONTENTS

PART I
CHAPTER
I.--BETTER THAN LONDON
II.--SACRIFICE
III.--MAGIC
IV.--BROTHER DICK
V.--THE GREAT MAN
VI.--THE VISITOR
VII.--THE OFFER
VIII.--MRS. FIELDING
IX.--THE INTRUDER

PART II
I.--THE WAND OF OFFICE
II.--MIDSUMMER MADNESS
III.--A DRAWN BATTLE
IV.--A POINT OF HONOUR
V.--THE WAY TO HAPPINESS
VI.--RECONCILIATION
VII.--THE SPELL
VIII.--THE HONOURS OF WAR

PART III
I.--BIRDS OF A FEATHER
II.--SALTASH
III.--THE PRICE
IV.--KISMET
V.--THE DRIVING FORCE
VI.--THE SISTER OF MERCY
VII.--THE SACRIFICE
VIII.--THE MESSAGE
IX.--THE ANSWER

PART IV
I.--THE FREE GIFT
II.--FRIENDSHIP
III.--CONFESSION
IV.--COUNSEL
V.--THE THUNDERBOLT
VI.--COALS OF FIRE
VII.--FLIGHT
VIII.--OUT OF THE NIGHT
IX.--THE FREE PARDON
X.--THE LAST FENCE

THE OBSTACLE RACE


CHAPTER I
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PART I
CHAPTER I
BETTER THAN LONDON
A long, green wave ran up, gleaming like curved glass in the sunlight, and broke in a million sparkles against a shelf of shingle. Above the shingle rose the soft cliffs, clothed with scrubby grass and crowned with gorse.
"Columbus," said the stranger, "this is just the place for us."
Columbus wagged a cheery tail and expressed complete agreement. He was watching a small crab hurrying among the stones with a funny frown between his brows. He was not quite sure of the nature or capabilities of these creatures, and till he knew more he deemed it advisable to let them pass without interference. A canny Scot was Columbus, and it was very seldom indeed that anyone ever got the better of him. He was also a gentleman to the backbone, and no word his mistress uttered, however casual, ever passed unacknowledged by him. He always laughed when she laughed, however obscure the joke.
He smiled now, since she was obviously pleased, but without taking his sharp little eyes off the object of his interest. Suddenly the scuttling crab disappeared and he started up with a whine. In a moment he was scratching in the shingle in eager search, flinging showers of stones over his companion in the process.
She protested, seizing him by his wiry tail to make him desist. "Columbus! Don't! You're burying me alive! Do sit down and be sensible, or I'll never be wrecked on a desert island with you again!"
Columbus subsided, not very willingly, dropping with a grunt into the hole he had made. His mistress released him, and took out a gold cigarette case.
"I wonder what I shall do when I've finished these," she mused. "The simple life doesn't include luxuries of this sort. Only three left, Columbus! After that, your missis'll starve."
She lighted a cigarette with a faint pucker on her wide brow. Her eyes looked out over the empty, tumbling sea--grey eyes very level in their regard under black brows that were absolutely straight and inclined to be rather heavily accentuated.
"Yes, I wish I'd asked Muff for a few before I came away," was the outcome of her reflections. "By this time tomorrow I shan't have one left. Just think of that, my Christopher, and be thankful that you're just a dog to whom one rat tastes very like another!"
Columbus sneezed protestingly. Whatever his taste in rats, Cigarette smoke did not appeal to him. His mistress's fondness for it was her only failing in his eyes.
She went on reflectively, her eyes upon the sky-line. "I shall have to take in washing to eke out a modest living in cigarettes and chocolates. I can't subsist on Mr. Rickett's Woodbines, that's quite certain. I wonder if there's a pawnshop anywhere near."
Her voice was low and peculiarly soft; she uttered her words with something of a drawl. Her hands were clasped about her knees, delicate hands that yet looked capable. The lips that held the cigarette were delicately moulded also, but they had considerable character.
"If I were Lady Joanna Farringmore, I suppose I should say something rather naughty in French, Columbus, to relieve my feelings. But you and I don't talk French, do we? And we have struck the worthy Lady Jo and all her crowd off our visiting-list for some time to come. I don't suppose any of them will miss us much, do you, old chap?