[Illustration: Cover art]

THE MAN WHO

DROVE THE CAR

BY

MAX PEMBERTON

AUTHOR OF

"THE GIRL WITH THE RED HAIR"

"THE IRON PIRATE" ETC. 

LONDON

EVELEIGH NASH

FAWSIDE HOUSE

1910

Printed by BALLANTYNE & Co. LIMITED

Tavistock Street, Coven Garden, London

CONTENTS

 I. THE ROOM IN BLACK II. THE SILVER WEDDING III. IN ACCOUNT WITH DOLLY ST. JOHN IV. THE LADY WHO LOOKED ON V. THE BASKET IN THE BOUNDARY ROAD VI. THE COUNTESS

I

THE ROOM IN BLACK

They say that every man should have a master, but, for my part, Iprefer a mistress. Give me a nice young woman with plenty of money inher pocket, and a bit of taste for seeing life, and I'll leave you allthe prying "amatoors" that ever sniffed about a gear-box withoutknowing what was inside that same. 

I have driven plenty of pretty girls in my life; but I don't know thatthe prettiest wasn't Fauny Dartel, of the Apollo. This story isn'tabout her--except in a way--so it doesn't much matter; but when I firstknew Fauny she was getting thirty bob a week in "The Boys of Boulogne, "and, as she paid me three pound ten every Saturday, and the car costher some four hundred per annum to run, she must have been of a savingdisposition. Certainly a better mistress no man wants--not LalBritten, which is yours truly. I drove her for five months, and neverhad a word with her. Then a man, who said he was a bailiff, came andtook her car away, and there was no money for me on the Saturday. So Isuppose she married into the peerage. 

My story isn't about Fauny Dartel, though it's got to do with her. It's about a man who didn't know who he was--at least, he said so--andcouldn't tell you why he did it. We picked him up outside the CarltonHotel, Fauny and me, [1] three nights before "The Boys of Boulogne" wentinto the country, and "The Girls" from some other shop took theirplace. She was going to sup with her brother, I remember--astonishinghow many brothers she had, too--and I was to return to the mews offLancaster Gate, when, just as I had set her down and was about to driveaway, up comes a jolly-looking man in a fine fur coat and an opera hat, and asks me if I was a taxi. Lord, how I stared at him!

"Taxi yourself, " says I, "and what asylum have you escaped out of?"

"Oh, come, come, " says he, "don't be huffy. I only wanted to go as faras Portman Square. "

"Then call a furniture van, " says I, "and perhaps they'll get youaboard. "

My dander was up, I tell you, for I was on the box of as pretty aDaimler landaulette as ever came out of Coventry, and if there'sanything I never want to be, it's the driver of a pillar-box with aflag in his left ear. No doubt I should have said much more to thegentleman, when what do you think happens--why, Fauny herself comes upand tells me to take him. 

"I'm sure we should like some one to do the same for us if no taxiswere about, " says she very sweetly; "please take the gentleman, Britten, and then you can go home. "

Well, I sat there as amazed a man as any in the Haymarket. It's truethere weren't any taxis on the rank at the minute; but he could havegot one by walking a hundred yards along Trafalgar Square, and she musthave known it as well as he did. All the same, she smiled sweetly athim and he at her--and then, with a tremendous sweep of his hat, hemakes a gallant speech to her. 

"I am under a thousand obligations, " says he; "really, I couldn'tintrude. "

"Oh, get in and go off, " says she, almost pushing him. "I shall losemy supper if you don't. "

He obeyed her immediately, and away we went. You will remember thathis talk had been of a house in Portman Square; but no sooner had Iturned the corner by the Criterion than he began speaking through thetube, and telling me to go to Playford's in Berkeley Square. There hestopped, notwithstanding that it was getting on for twelve o'clock; andwhen he had rung the bell and entered the house, I had to wait a goodfifteen minutes before he was ready for the second stage. 

"Is it Portman Square now?" I asked him. He laughed and slipped asovereign into my hand. 

"I can see you're one of the right sort, " he said. "Would you mindrunning round to the King's Road, Chelsea, for ten minutes? Perhapsthere'll be another sovereign before we get to bed to-night. "

I pocketed the money--you don't find many drivers who are long off thefourth speed in that line, and Lal Britten is no exception. As for thegentleman, he did seem a merry fellow, and his air was that of a Dukeall over--the kind of man who says "Do it, " and finds you there everytime. We were round at the King's Road, Chelsea, perhaps a quarter ofan hour after he had spoken, and there we stopped at the door of a lotof studios, which I have been told since are where some of the greatpainters of the country keep their pictures. Here my friend was goneperhaps twenty minutes, and when next I saw him he had three flash-upladies with him, and every one as classy as he was. 

"Relations of mine, " says he, as he pushes 'em into the landaulette, and closes the door himself. "Now you may drive to Portman Square justas fast as you please, for I'm an early bird myself, and don't approveof late hours. "

Well, I stared, be sure of it, though staring didn't fit that riddle, not by a long way. My mistress had lent her landaulette to a stranger;but I felt sure that she wouldn't have liked this sort of thing--andyet, remember, the gentleman had told me to drive to Portman Square, sothere could not be much the matter, after all. 

As for the ladies, it wasn't for me to quarrel with them. They wereall very well dressed, and behaved themselves perfectly. I came to theconclusion that I was dealing with some rich man who had a bee in hisbonnet, and, my curiosity getting the better of me, I drove away toPortman Square without as much as a word. 

Now, this would have been some time after twelve o'clock. It was, Ithink, a quarter to one when we turned into Portman Square, and hebegan to work the signal on the driver's seat which tells you whetheryou are to go to the right or the left, slow or easy, out or homeagain. All sorts of contradictory orders baffling me, we drew up atlast before a big house on the Oxford Street side, and this, to myastonishment, had a "To Let" board in the window, and another at thepillar of the front door. What was even more astonishing was the factthat this empty house--for I saw at a glance it was that--was justlighted up from cellar to attic, while there was as many as threefurniture vans drawn up against the pavement, and sending in theircontents as fast as a dozen men could carry them. All this, mind you, I took in at a glance. No time was given me to think about it, for thestranger was out of the car in a jiffy and had given me my instructionsin two. 

"Here's your sovereign, " says he; "if you want to earn ten times asmany come back for me at four o'clock--or, better still, stay and give'em a hand inside. We want all the help we can get to-night, and nomistake about it. You can get your supper here, and bring that carround when I'm ready. "

Well, I didn't know what to do. My mistress had said nothing aboutstopping up until four o'clock--but for that matter she hadn'tmentioned ten pounds sterling either--and here was this merry gentlemantalking about it glibly enough. 

For my part the fun of the whole thing began to take hold of me, and Idetermined to see it through whatever the cost. There were goings onin Portman Square, and no mistake about it--and why should Lal Brittenbe left out in the cold? Not much, I can tell you. And I had the caraway in the garage off the Edgware Road, and was back at the oldgentleman's house just about as quick as any driver could have made thejourney. 

There I found the square half full of people. Three policemen stood atthe door of the house, and a pretty crowd of loafers, such as a partyin London can always bring together, watched the fun, although theycouldn't make much of it. Asking what the hullabaloo was about, afellow told me that Lord Crossborough had come up from the countrysuddenly, and was "a-keeping of his jubilee" at No. 20B. 

"Half the Gaiety's there, to say nothing of the Merry Widow, " says he, as I pushed past him, "and don't you be in a hurry, guv'nor, 'causeyou've forgotten yer diamond collar. They won't say nothink up there, not if you was to go in a billycock 'at and a duster, s'welp me, theywouldn't----" But I didn't listen to him, and going up the front doorsteps by the policemen, I told them I was Lord Crossborough's driver, and passed right in. 

Now I have been through many funny scenes in my life, seen many funnygentlemen, to say nothing of funny ladies, and have had many a goodtime on many a good car. But this I shall say at once, that I nevergot a greater surprise than when I got back to 2OB, and found myself inthe empty hall among twenty or thirty pairs of yellow breeches and asmany cooks in white aprons, all pushing and shouting, and swearing thatthe area gate was locked and bolted, and the kitchen in no fit state toserve supper to a dog. 

Upstairs on the landings men in white aprons were carrying plants inpots, and building up banks of roses; while higher up still stood LordCrossborough himself--the gentleman I had driven from theCarlton--shouting to them to do this and to do that, smoking a cigar aslong as your arm, and all the time as merry as a two-year-old at amorning gallop. 

As for the young ladies, they had taken off their cloaks, and all worepretty gowns, same as they would wear for any party in that part of theworld, and they were standing by his lordship's side, apparently justas much amused as he was. What astonished me in particular was thisnobleman's affability towards me, for he cried out directly he saw me, and implored me for heaven's sake to get the padlock off the area gate, or, says he, "I'm d--d if they won't be cooking the ducks in thedrawing-room. "

I was only too ready to oblige him, that goes without saying, though Ihad to run round to the garage for a file and a chisel, and when I gotback for the second time, it took me twenty minutes to get off thepadlock, after which they sent me upstairs, as they said, "to help withthe flats. " Then I discovered that a play, or something, was to begiven in the drawing-room, the back part of which was full of scenery, showing a castle on the top of a precipice and a view of the ThamesEmbankment just below it, while away in the small library on the otherside of the staircase stood twenty or thirty ballet girls, just comefrom one of the West End theatres. 

Immediately after they had arrived, a number of fiddlers came tumblingup the stairs, and the fun began in earnest. A proper gentleman, whoseemed to know what he was talking about, though, to be sure, he didcall all the ladies his "darlings, " started to put 'em through theirpaces. I saw one of our leading musical ladies coming down the stairsfrom the rooms above, and presently a lot of guests arrived from thehall below, and went into the great drawing-room, where the audiencewas to sit. "After all, " says I, "this is just his lordship's bit offun--he's giving one of those impromptu parties we've heard so muchabout, and this play-acting is the surprise of it. " You shall seepresently how very wrong I was. 

Well, the play went merry enough, as it should have done, seeing it wasperformed by people who have to make their living by plays. When itwas over, his lordship gets up and says something about their havingsupper, not in the English way but the French, same as they do at theCatsare[2] in Paris. This pleased them all very much, and I could seethat the most part of them were not real ladies and gentlemen at all, but riff-raff Bohemian stuff out for a spree, and determined to haveone. The supper itself was the most amusing affair you ever saw; forwhat must they do but flop down on the floor just where they stood, notminding the bare boards at all, and eat cold chicken and twist rollsfrom paper bags the footman threw to them. As for the liquor, youwould have thought they never could have enough of it--but it's not forme to say anything about that, seeing I had a bottle of the best tomyself down in the corner by the conservatory, and more than one paperbag when the first was empty. 

Now, this supper occupied them until nearly three in the morning. Imake out--as I had to do to the police--that it was just a quarter pastthree when the real business began, and a pretty frightening business, as my sequel will show. First it began with the sweepers, who swept upthe wreck of the vittals with long brooms, and sprinkled scented waterafterwards to lay the dust. Then the musicians played a mournful sortof tune, and after that, what do you think?--why, in came a number ofstage carpenters, who began to hang the whole place with black. 

I have told you already that it was an empty house and not a stick offurniture in it, save what we carried there--so you will see that allthis affair must have been arranged a long time before, for the blackhangings were all made to fit the room, and upon them they hung blackcandlesticks with yellow candles in them--as melancholy as those usedfor a funeral, and just the same kind, so far as I could see. Thisinterested the company very much. I could hear all sorts of remarksfrom the riff-raff who were making love on the stairs; and presentlythey all crowded into the room and listened to Lord Crossborough whilehe made them a speech. 

Let me confess that what I know about this speech I learned chieflyfrom the newspapers. His lordship spoke of his family affairs, andspoke of them in a way that might very well astonish the company. 

To begin with, he mentioned his own eccentricities during the last fivemonths, when, as he reminded them, he had retired from public life andgone down to Hertfordshire to found an academy where, with a fewconvivials, he might study Latin and Greek and forget the high old timehe had had in London formerly. 

This, he said, had been a pretty slow business, and quite given him thejumps. He began to find himself sighing for the old days. Plato andSocrates were fine old boys, but he preferred "The Boys of Boulogne" atthe Apollo, and no mistake about it. So he had given up keeping housewith Plato and the other gentleman, and was going over to France, whenhe discovered Captain Blackham's adventure with Jenny Frobisher of theOpera House, and wanted to know more about it. Did they think he wouldput up with that? Not for a minute, and, seeing that you can't get lawin such affairs in this country, he meant to do his own law-making. That very night he had asked Captain Blackham to come to this housethat they might meet and have it out like gentlemen should do. One ofthem would not return--he left it to the company to bear witness thatall was done squarely as between men of honour, and he begged them tokeep his confidence. It was then half-past three. They might expectthe Captain in ten minutes, during which time he would make hispreparations. He was sure they would never betray him. 

You may imagine the excitement this speech gave rise to. I was at thebottom of the stairs at the time, and I could hear the women crying outto each other, and the men asking what it all meant. Such a confusionand babel I shall never listen to again in any house. What with somerunning downstairs and calling for their carriages, the band playing, his lordship bawling for his servants--and, upon all this, the suddenarrival of the Captain, who carried a pair of swords in his hand--why, no madhouse could have matched it. 

Well enough, I say, for Lord Crossborough to ask people not to betrayhim; but what woman could hold her tongue under such circumstances, andhow did he think that such a game could be played and the police hearnothing of it? Why, I tell you that half a dozen girls were bawling"Murder!" before five minutes were past, and as many more imploring thepolice outside to step up and stop it. For myself I made no bonesabout the matter; and, not wishing to appear in a police court nextday, and thinking certainly that Lord Crossborough was as mad as anyfirst-floor tenant of Hanwell, I pushed my way through the press andwent off to the garage. Ten pound or no ten pound, I was for bed. Will you ask me if I was surprised when, going up to the car, the veryfirst person I met was his lordship, with a cigar about seven incheslong in his mouth, and as pretty a smile above his long black beard asI have seen this many a day. 

"Well, my boy, " says he, opening the door quite calmly and steppinginside with no more concern than if I had just driven him from theCarlton to Hyde Park Corner, "well, now I think we shall soon haveearned that extra ten-pound note. The next house is inHertfordshire--three miles from Potter's Bar, on the road to FiveCorners. Do you happen to know it, by the way?"

I could hardly answer him for amazement. 

"But what about the Captain, sir, " cried I. 

"Oh, " says he, "the Captain will never trouble me again. Now get upand make haste. Is your back lamp all right? That's good--Iparticularly wish all the policemen to get our number. Go right aheadand stop for no one. It's a big house, I am told, and we cannot missit. "

"But, " cried I, "isn't it your lordship's house?"

He laughed, the merriest laugh in all the world. 

"I was never there in my life, " says he; "now get on, for heaven'ssake, or you'll have the morning here. "

I hadn't a word for this, and, wondering whether I had gone dotty orhe, I let the Daimler out and drove straight up Baker Street, throughthe Park and out on to the Finchley Road. The police have eyes allround their heads for this track as a rule, but never a policeman do Iremember seeing that night, and we travelled forty-five an hour afterBarnet if we travelled a mile. 

My directions, you will remember, had been to go straight throughPotter's Bar, and then on to a place called Five Corners--a locality Ihad never heard of, well as I know Hertfordshire and the roads roundabout. This I told his lordship as we slowed up in the village, andhis answer was surprising, for he told me to go to the police stationand to ask there. So I slowed up in Potter's Bar, and, seeing apoliceman, I asked him to direct me. 

"Keep to the right and turn to the right again, " says he, staring hardat his lordship and at me. "That's Lord Crossborough's house, isn'tit?"

"Why, yes, " says I, naturally enough, "and it's his lordship I amdriving. "

He nodded pleasantly at this, and his lordship putting his head out ofthe window at the moment, he spoke to him direct. 

"Rather late to-night, my lord. "

"Yes, yes, very late, and a driver who doesn't know the road. I ammuch obliged to you, constable. Tell him how to go, and here's asovereign for you. "

A policeman doesn't like a sovereign, of course, and this fellow wasjust as nasty about it as the others. I suppose he spent the nextquarter of an hour directing me how to go, and when that was done hesaluted his lordship in fine military fashion. To be truthful, I maysay that we went out of Potter's Bar with flying colours, and for thenext ten minutes I drove slowly down dark lanes with corners sharpenough for copybooks, and hedges so high that a man couldn't feelhimself for the darkness. When we got out of this we came to fivecross-roads, and a big sign-post; and here, I remembered, the policemanhad told me to take the middle road to the left, and that I should findFive Corners a quarter of a mile further down. So I was just swingingthe big car round when what should happen but that the signal told meto stop, and, bringing to in a jiffy, I waited for his lordship tospeak. 

"Britten, " says he, for I had told him my name half a dozen timesalready, "Britten, this is very important to me. I'll make it fifteenpounds if you do the job well. Just drive up to the lodge, and whenthe man opens, you say 'His lordship is very late to-night. ' Afterthat, you'll keep to the lower of two roads and come to another lodge. There, when you wake them up, you will say, 'His lordship is very earlythis morning, ' and after that, drive away just as hard as the old carcan take you. I'm in the mood to have some fun to-night, and whateverI do is no responsibility of yours, so don't you be troubled about it, my lad. I shall exonerate you if there's any tale; but there can't beone, for surely a man may drive through his own park when he has themind to. "

I said "Of course he had, " for what else could I say? The further Igot into this job the madder it appeared to be. Perhaps just becauseof its madness, I determined to see the end of it. After all, I hadbeen ordered by my mistress to drive this gentleman, and whatever hemight choose to do was no concern of mine. If I tell the whole truth, and say I thought him a lunatic with whom it would be dangerous toquarrel, well, there's no harm in that; for how many would have donedifferent, and where's the blame? Lords go mad like other people, forall their coronets; and fine times they appear to have in thatcondition. I said Lord Crossborough was either daft or had some deepgame going; and, with that to keep me up, I drove straight to the lodgegates, and bawled for them to let me in. 

There was a long wait here, fifteen good minutes or more before atousled-haired girl opened the little window of the cottage, and askedme what I wanted. When I told her to look sharp and not keep hislordship waiting, I do believe she laughed in my face. 

"Why, he's not left the house for a month!" cries she. "Now don't tellme!"

"Oh, but I'm going to tell you--that and a lot more, if you don't hurryup. Don't you see that I've brought his lordship home?"

"Oh, dear me, " says she, all flustered; "I'm sure I beg his lordship'spardon----" and with that she came down like a shot and opened thegate. For my part I had nothing more to say to her, except the remarkwhich Lord Crossborough had ordered me to make, and exclaiming, "Hislordship is late to-night, " I let the clutch in and started the car. Aglance behind me showed me my passenger fast asleep, with the girlstaring at him with all her eyes. But she said no more, and I droveon, and hadn't gone fifty yards before the signal was working again. 

"Oh, " says I, "then we've got no sort of dormouse up to be sure. Asleep and awake again all in five minutes"; but I slowed up the car ashe directed, and immediately afterwards he called my attention toanother party who shared the road with us, and was as curious as thegirl. He was a policeman, and he had passed through the lodge gatesright on our heels. 

I don't know how it is, but if you are doing anything you have anydoubt about at all, the sight of a policeman always gives you thecreeps. I never see one, but I wonder if he has been timing me, orquarrelling with my number-plates, or doing one or other of thosethings which policemen do, and we poor devils pay for. 

This time I was right down afraid, and made no bones about it. Thescene in Portman Square, the women's screams, the empty house, theblack hangings, the talk concerning the duel, and his lordship'smysterious words about Captain Blackham never troubling him any more:they came upon me in a flash, and almost drove me silly. Not so mylord himself--I had never seen him calmer. 

"Good-morning, constable, " says he, "and what can I do for you?"

"I beg your pardon, sir, " says the man, dismounting as he spoke, "butthere's a telegram from London about your house in Portman Square, andI came up to see if you know anything about it. "

"Of course I do, constable--very good of you, though. Tell them it'sall right, just a little party to some of my old friends. And here's asovereign for you; call again later on if you have anything to say. I'm half asleep and dead tired. "

He threw a sovereign out on to the grass, and the police sergeantpicked it up sharp enough. I thought there was a kind of hesitation inhis manner, but couldn't make much of it. Whatever he thought orwished to say, however, that he kept to himself, and after remarkingthat the morning would break fine, and that he was much obliged to hislordship, he mounted and rode away. This was the moment LordCrossborough ceased to work the signal, and, opening the front window, spoke to me direct. 

"Stop your engine, " he says in a low voice, "and see you don't start ituntil that fellow is out of the park. "

I thought it a strange order, but did as he wished. It was plain tome, as it would have been plain to any one, that he didn't wish theconstable to see us take the lower road, and had thought out this trickto work his will. I am a pretty good hand myself at stopping myengine, and being unable to start her, especially when my master ormistress wants to get there in a hurry and doesn't consult myconvenience. So I was down in a jiffy when his lordship spoke, andthere I stood, pretending to swing the handle and to poke about insidethe bonnet until the sergeant had turned the corner of the drive, andit was safe to go ahead again. 

The second lodge lay perhaps the third of a mile from the place wherewe had halted, and we must pass within a hundred yards of the houseitself to get to it. I didn't need to be told not to sound my horn aswe went by, and we were creeping along nicely when--and this wassomething which seemed to hit me in the very face--we came upon a manwalking under the trees by the lake side, and he--believe me or not asyou like--was the very living image of my passenger. "Good God!" saysI, "then there are two of 'em, " and in a very twinkling the wholenature of this night's business seemed clear to me. 

A man just like his lordship, dressed in a tweed suit and with a thickstick in his hand--a man with a bushy black beard, a full roundforehead, and the very walk and movement of the man I carried. Whatwas I to make of him, what to think of it? Well, I can hardly tell youthat, for, no sooner did we catch sight of the man than my passengerroared to me to go straight on, and, ducking down inside thelandaulette, he hid himself as completely from sight as though he hadbeen in the tool-box. For my part, remembering the old adage about "Infor a penny in for a pound, " I just let the Daimler fly, and we wentdown the drive and up to the lodge as fast as car ever travelled thatparticular road or will travel it whatever the circumstances. 

"Gate, " I roared, "gate, gate!" for the padlock was plain enough and agood stout chain about it. No one answered me for more than fiveminutes, I suppose, and no sooner did an old man appear, than I saw thestranger with his bushy black beard, his lordship's double, runningdown the drive for all he was worth, and bawling to the gate-keeper notto open. 

A critical moment this, upon my word, and one to bring a man's heartinto his mouth--the doddering old man tottering to the gate; thestranger running like a prize-winner; Lord Crossborough himself, doubled up in the bottom of the landaulette, and me sitting there withmy foot on the clutch, my hand on the throttle, and my pulse going likeone o'clock. Should we do it or should we not? Would it be shut oropen? The question answered itself a moment later, when thelodge-keeper, not seeing the other fellow, half opened the iron gatesand let my bonnet in between them. The car almost knocked him down aswe raced through--I could hear him bawling "Stop!" even above the humof the engine. 

You will not have forgotten that his lordship had told me to go, hellfor leather, directly I was through the gate, and right well I obeyedhim. The lanes were narrow and twisty; there were morning mistsblowing up from the fields; we passed more than one market cart, andnearly lost our wings. But I was out to earn fifteen of the best, andright well I worked for them. Slap bang into Potter's Bar, slap bangout of it and round the bend towards Prickly Hill. I couldn't havedriven faster if I had had the whole county police at my heels--and theLord knows whether I had or not. 

This brought us to Barnet in next to no time. We were still doingforty as we entered the town, and would have run out of it attwenty-five after we'd passed the church and the police station--wouldhave, I say, but for one little fact, and that was a fat sergeant ofpolice right in the middle of the road, with his hand held up like aleg of mutton, and a voice that might have been hailing a burglar. 

"Here, you, " he cried, as I drew up, "who have you got in that car?"

"Why, " says I, "who should I have but somebody who has a right to bethere? Ask his lordship for himself. "

"His lordship--do you mean Lord Crossborough?"

I went to say "Yes, " just as he opened the door. You shall judge whatI thought of it when a glance behind me showed that the landaulette wasempty. 

"Now, who are you making game of?" cried the sergeant, throwing thedoor wide open. "There ain't no lordship in here. What do you mean bysaying there was?"

"Well, he was there when I left Five Corners----"

"What! you've come from his house?"

"Straight away, " says I, "and no calls. Ask him for yourself. "

He could see that I was flabbergasted and telling him the truth. Therewas the landaulette as empty as a box of chocolates when theparlourmaid has done with them. How Lord Crossborough got out or wherehe had gone to when he did get out, I knew no more than the dead. Onething was plain--I was as clean sold as any greenhorn at any countryfair. And I made no bones about telling the sergeant as much. 

"He asked me to drive him down from town to his house at Five Corners. My mistress told me to take him, and I did. I was to have fifteen ofthe best for the job--and here you see what I get. Oh, you bet I'mhappy. "

I spoke with some feeling, and you may be sure I felt pretty kindtowards Lord Crossborough just then. To be kept up all night and runabout like a "yellow breeches, " to have my ears crammed with promisesand my skin drenched with the mists, to find myself stranded in Barnetat the end. It was more than any man's temper could stand, and that Itold the sergeant. 

"Well, " says I, "next time I meet him, I shall have something prettystrong to say to that same Lord Crossborough, and you may tell him sowhen you see him. "

"See him--I wish we could see him. There's half the county policelooking for him this minute. Oh, we'd like to see him all right, and afew others as well. Now, you come down to the station and tell us allabout it. There'll be a cup of hot coffee there, and I daresay youwon't mind that. "

I said that I wouldn't, and went along with him. An inspector at thestation took my story down from the time I set off from the Carlton tothe moment I quitted Five Corners. What he wanted it for, what LordCrossborough had done, or what he was going to do, they didn't tell me, nor did I care. But they gave me a jolly good breakfast before theysent me off, and that was about the best thing I had had for twelvelong hours. It was eleven o'clock when I got back to town at last. And at three o'clock precisely I saw my mistress again. 

You will readily imagine that I was glad of this interview, and hadbeen looking forward to it anxiously from the time I drove the car intothe stable until the moment it came off. Miss Dartel had a flat inBayswater just then; but she didn't send for me there, and it was atthe theatre I saw her, in her own dressing-room between the acts of arehearsal. A clean-shaven gentleman was talking to her when I went in, and for a little while I didn't recognise him; but presently he turnedround, and something in his manner and tone of voice caused me to lookup sharp enough. 

"Why, " says I, "his lordship!"

They both laughed at this, and Miss Dartel held up her finger. 

"Whatever are you saying, Britten?" cried she. "That's Mr. Jermyn, ofthe Hicks Theatre. "

"Jermyn or French, " says I, my temper getting up, "he's the man I droveto Five Corners last night--and fifteen pounds he owes me, neither morenor less. "

Well, they both laughed again, and the gentleman, he took a pocket-bookfrom the inside pocket of his coat and laid three five-pound notes onthe table. While they were there, Miss Dartel puts her pretty fingersupon them, and begins to speak quite confidentially--

"Britten, " says she, "there's fifteen pounds. I daresay it would befifty if you had a very bad memory, Britten, and couldn't recognise thegentleman you picked up last night. Now, do you think you have such abad memory as all that?"

I twigged it in a minute, and answered them quite honestly. 

"I must know more or less, madame, " says I. "Remember my interests arenot this gentleman's interests. "

"Oh, that's quite fair, Britten, though naturally, we know nothing. But they do say that poor Lord Crossborough has gone quite silly aboutthe rural life. He's been reading Tolstoy's books, and wants to liveupon a shilling a day; while poor Lady Crossborough, who knows mycousin, Captain Blackham, very well, she's bored to death, and it willkill her if it goes on. So, you see, she persuaded his lordship togive that funny party at his old house in Portman Square last night, and all the papers are laughing at it to-day, and he'll be chaffed outof his life. I'm sure Lady Crossborough will get her way now, Britten;and when the police hear it was only an eccentricity upon hislordship's part, they won't say anything. Now, do you think that youwould be able to swear that the man you drove last night was very likeLord Crossborough? If so, it would be lucky, and I'm sure her ladyshipwill give you fifty pounds. "

I thought about it a minute, rolling up the notes and putting them intomy pocket. Of course I could swear as she wanted me to. And fifty ofthe best. Good Lord, what a temptation!

But I'll tell you straight that I got the fifty, and never sworenothing at all. The party was a job put up by Lady Crossborough. Theman I drove was Mr. Jermyn, of the Hicks Theatre, and the world and thenewspapers laughed so loud at his lordship, who never convinced anybodyhe hadn't done it, that he went off to India in a hurry, and never cameback for twelve months. Which proves to me that honesty is the bestpolicy, as I shall always declare. 

And one thing more--where did Mr. Jermyn get out of my car? Why, justas I slowed up for the corner by the church at Barnet--not a hundredyards from where the constable stopped me. A clever actor--why, yes, he is that. 

[1] The Editor has left Mr. Britten to speak for himself in his ownmanner when that seems characteristic of his employment. 

[2] Mr. Britten's spelling of Quat'z-Arts is eccentric. 

II

THE SILVER WEDDING

Yes, I shall never forget "Benny, " and I shall never forget hisbeautiful red hair. Gentlemen, I have driven for many . .. And theother sort, but "Benny" was neither the one nor the other--not a man, but a tribe . .. Not a Jew nor yet a Christian, but just something youmeet every day and all days--a big, blundering heap of good-nature, which quarrels with one half the world and takes Bass's beer with theother. That was Benjamin Colmacher--"Benny" for short--that was themaster I want to tell you about. 

I was out of a job at the time, and had picked up an endorsement atHayward's Heath and left a matter of six pounds there for the justicesto get busy with. Time is money, they say, and I have found it to beso . .. Generally five pounds and costs, though more if you take aquantity. It isn't easy for a good man with a road mechanic'sknowledge and five years' experience, racing and otherwise, to placehimself nowadays, when any groom can get made a slap-bang "shuffer" forfive pounds at a murder-shop, and any old coachman is young enough toput his guv'nor in the ditch. My knowledge and my experience had gonebegging for exactly three months when I heard of Benny, and hurriedround to his flat off Russell Square, "just the chap for you, " theysaid at the garage. I thought so, too, when I saw him. 

It was a fine flat, upon my word, and filled up with enough fal-de-lalsto please a duchess from the Gaiety. Benny himself, his red haircombed flat on his head and oiled like a missing commutator, wore aJapanese silk dressing-gown which would have fired a steam car. Hisbreakfast, I observed, consisted of one brandy-and-soda and a bunch ofgrapes; but the cigar he offered me was as long as a policeman's boot, and the fellow to it stuck out of a mouth as full of fine white teethas a pod of peas. 

"Good-morning, " says he, nodding affably enough; and then, "You areLionel Britten, I suppose?"

"Yes, " says I--for no road mechanic who respects himself is going to"sir" such as Benny Colmacher to begin with--"that's my name, though myfriends call me Lal for short. You're wanting a driver, I hear. "

He sat himself in a great armchair and looked me up and down as a vetlooks at a horse. 

"I do want a driver, " says he, "though how you got to know it, the Lordknows. "

"Why, " says I, "that's funny, isn't it? We're both wanting the samething, for I can see you're just the gentleman I would like to take onwith. "

He smiled at this, and seemed to be thinking about it. Presently heasked a plain question. I answered him as shortly. 

"Where did you hear of me?" he asked. 

"At Blundell's garage, " I answered. 

"And I was buying a car?"

"Yes, a fifty-seven Daimler . .. That was the talk. "

"Could you drive a car like that?"

"Could I--oh, my godfathers----"

"Then you have handled fast cars?"

"I drove with Fournier in the Paris-Bordeaux, was through the Floriofor the Fiat people, and have driven the big Delahaye just upon ahundred and three miles an hour. Read my papers, sir . .. They'll showyou what I've done. "

I put a bundle into his hand, and he read a few words of them. Whennext he looked at me, there was something in his eyes which surprisedme considerably. Some would have called it cunning, some curiosity; Ididn't know what to make of it. 

"Why would you like to drive for me?" he asked presently. 

"Because, " said I, quickly enough, "it's plain that you're a gentlemananybody would like to drive for. "

"But you don't know anything at all about me. "

"That's just it, sir. The nicest people are those we don't knowanything at all about. "

He laughed loudly at this, and helped himself to the brandy-and-soda, but didn't drink over-much of it. I could see that he was muchrelieved, and he spoke afterwards with more freedom. 

"You're one that knows how to hold his tongue?" he suggested. Irejoined that, so far as tongues went, I had mine in a four-inch vice. 

"Especially where the ladies are concerned?"

"I'd sooner talk to them than about them, sir. "

"That's right, that's right. Don't take the maid when you can get themistress, eh?"

"Take 'em both for choice, that's my motto. "

"You're not married, Britten?"

"No such misfortune has overtaken me, sir. "

"Ha!"--here he leered just like an actor at the Vic--"and you don'tmind driving at night?"

"I much prefer it, sir. "

He leered again, and seemed mightily pleased. A few more questions putand answered found me with that job right enough . .. And a right goodjob, too, as things are nowadays. I was to have four pounds a week andliveries. Such a mug as "Benny" Colmacher would not be the man to askabout tyres and petrol, and if he did, I knew how to fill up his tanksfor him. Be sure I went away on my top speed and ate a better lunchthan had come my way for six months or more. Who the man was, or whathe was, I didn't care a dump. I had got the job, and to-morrow I wouldget up in the driver's seat of a car again. You can't wonder I waspleased. 

I slept well that night, and was round at Benny's early on thefollowing morning. If I had been surprised at my good luck yesterday, surprise was no word for what I felt when the valet opened the door tome and told me that Mr. Colmacher was in the country and wouldn't beback for a month. Not a word had been said about this, mind you--not ahint at it; and yet the stiff and starched gentleman could tell me thenews just as coolly as though he had said, "My master has gone acrossthe street to see a friend. " When I asked him if there was no messagefor me, he answered simply, "None. "

"He didn't give no instructions about the car?"

"The car is at the yard being repaired. "

"But I was engaged to drive her----"

"You will drive Mr. Colmacher when he returns. "

"And my wages----?"

"Oh, those will be paid. This is a place where they know what is dueto us. "

"And I am to do nothing meanwhile?"

"If you have nothing to do, by all means. "

It was an odd thing to hear, to be sure, and you can well understand myhesitation as I stood there on the landing and watched that stiff andstarched valet, who might have just come out of a tailor's shop. Gentlemen are not usually reserved between themselves, but this fellowbeat me altogether, and I liked him but little. Such a"don't-touch-me-or-I-shall-vanish" manner you don't come across ofteneven in Park Lane, and I soon saw that whatever else happened, Joseph, the valet, as they called him, and Lal Britten, the "shuffer, " werenever going to the North Pole together. 

"If it's doing nothing, " said I at last, "Mr. Colmacher won't havecause to complain of his driver. Am I to call again, or will he sendfor me?"

"He will send for you, unless you like to see Mr. Walter in themeantime?"

I looked up at this. There had been no "Mr. Walter" in the businessbefore. 

"Mr. Walter--and who may Mr. Walter be?"

"He is Mr. Colmacher's son. "

"Then I will see him just as soon as you like. "

He nodded his head and invited me in. Presently I found myself in afine bedroom on the far side of the flat, and what was my astonishmentto discover Mr. Walter himself in bed with a big cut across hisforehead and his right arm in a sling. He was a lean, pale youth, butwith as cadaverous a face as I have ever looked upon; and when he spokehis voice appeared to come from the back of his head. 

"You are the new driver my father has engaged?"

"Yes, sir, I am the same. "

"I hope you understand powerful cars. Did my father tell you that oursis a steam car?"

"He talked about a fifty-seven Daimler, sir. "

"But you have had experience with steam cars----"

"How did you know that, sir?"

He smiled softly. 

"We have made inquiries--naturally, we should do so. "

"Then you have not been misinformed. I drove a thirty-horse Whitethree months last year. "

"Ah, the same car that we drive. Unfortunately, I cannot help myfather just now, for I have met with an accident--in the hunting field. "

I jibbed at this. Motor-men don't know much about the hunting field, as a rule, but I wasn't such a ninny that I supposed men hunted in July. 

"Hunting, did you say, sir?"

"That is, trying a horse for the hunting season. Well, you may go now. Leave your address with Joseph. My father will send for you when hereturns, and meanwhile you are at liberty. "

I thanked him and went off. Oddly enough, this fellow pleased me nomore than the valet. His smile was ugly, his scowl uglierstill--especially when I made that remark about the hunting field. "Better have held your tongue, Lal, my boy, " said I to myself; andresolving to hold it for the future, I went to my own diggings andheard no more of the Colmachers, father or son, for exactly twenty-onedays. The morning of the twenty-second found me at the flat again. "Benny" Colmacher had returned, and remembered that he had paid methree weeks' wages. 

Now this was the middle of the month of August, and "Benny" certainlywas dressed for country wear. A dot-and-go-one suit of dittoes wentfor best, so to speak, with his curly red hair, and got the better ofit by a long way. He had a white rose in his button-hole, and hismanner was as smooth as Vacuum B from a nice clean can. He had justbreakfasted off his usual brandy-and-soda and dry toast when I came in;and the big cigar did sentry-go across his mouth all the time he talkedto me. 

"Come in, come in, Britten, " he cried pompously, when I appeared. "Youlike your place, I hope--you don't find the work too hard?"

"That's so--sir--a very nice sort of place this for a delicate youngman like myself. "

"Ah, but we are going to be a little busier. Has Mr. Walter shown youthe car?"

"No, sir, not yet. I hear she is a White steamer, though. "

"Yes, yes; I like steam cars; they don't shake me up. When a manweighs fifteen stun, he doesn't like to be shaken up, Britten--not goodfor his digestion, eh? Well, you go down to the Bedford Mews, No. 23B, and tell me if you can get the thing going by ten o'clock to-morrow--asfar as Watford, Britten. That's the place, Watford. I've something ondown there--something very important. Upon my soul, I don't know why Ishouldn't tell you. It's about a lady, Britten--ha, ha!--about a lady. "

Well, he grinned all over his face just like the laughing gorilla atthe Zoo, and went on grinning for a matter of two minutes or more. Such a laugh caught you whether you would or no; and while I didn'tcare two-pence about his business, and less about the lady, yet here Iwas laughing as loudly as he, and seemingly just as pleased. 

"Is it a young lady?" I ventured to ask presently. But he stoppedlaughing at that, and looked mighty serious. 

"You mustn't question me, my lad, " he said, a bit proudly. "I like myservants to be in my confidence, but they must not beg it. We aregoing down to Watford--that is enough for you. Get the car ready assoon as possible, and let me know at once if there is anything thematter with her. "

I promised to do so, and went round to the mews immediately. "Benny"seemed to me just a good-natured lovesick old fool, who had got hold ofsome new girl in the country and was going off to spoon her. The car Ifound to be one of the latest forty White's in tip-top trim. Shesteamed at once, and when I had put a new heater in, there was nothingmore to be done to her, except to wash her down, a thing noself-respecting mechanic will ever do if he can get another to take thejob on for him. So I hired a loafer who was hanging about the mews, and set him to the work while I read the papers and smoked a cigarette. 

He was a playful little cuss to be sure, one of those "ne'er-grow-ups"you meet about stables, and ready enough to gossip when I gave him thechance. 

"He's a wonder, is Colmacher, " he remarked as he splashed and hissedabout the wheels. "Takes his car out half a dozen times in as manyhours, and then never rides in her for three months. You would beengaged in place of Mr. Walter, I suppose. They say he's gone toAmerica, though I don't rightly know whether that's true or not. "

I answered him without looking up from my paper. 

"Who says he's in America?"

"Why, the servants say it. Ellen the housemaid and me--but that ain'tfor the newspapers. So Mr. Walter's home, is he? Well, he do walkabout, to be sure, and him not left for New York ten days ago. "

"You seem to be angry about it, my boy. "

"Well no, it ain't nothing to me, to be sure, though I must say asBenny's one after my own heart. The girls he do know, and mostly after'em when the sun's gone down. Would it be the young lady at Bristolthis time, or another? He wus took right bad down in Wiltshire larsttime I heard of 'im, but perhaps he's cured hisself drinking of thewaters. Anyway, it ain't nothing to me, for I'm off to Margateto-morrow. "

He waited for me to speak, but seeing that I was bent on reading mypaper, made no further remark until his job was done. When next I sawhim it was at eleven o'clock on the following day, just as I wasdriving the car round to "Benny's" to take the old boy down to Watfordas he wished. Jumping on the step, the lad put a funny question:

"You're a good sort, " he said. "Will you forward this bit of atelegram to me from any place you chance to stop at to-night?"

"Why, what's up now?" I asked. 

"Nothing much, but my old uncle won't let me go, and I want to takeEllen to Margate for the day. This telegram says mother's ill andwants me. Will you send it through and put in the name of the placewhere you stop to-night?"

I said that I would, and sticking the sixpence inside my glove and theform into my pocket, I thought no more about it, and drove straightaway to Benny's. The old boy was dressed fit to marry the whole Gaietyballet, white frock suit, white hat, and a rose as big as a full-blowntomato in his button-hole. To the valet he gave his directions in avoice that could have been heard half down the street. He was going toWatford, and would return in a week. 

"Mind, " he cried, "I'm staying at the King's Arms, and you can send myletters down there. " Then he waved his hand to me, and we set off. The road to Watford via Edgware is traps from end to end, and, well asthe White was going, I did not dare to let her out. It was just afterhalf-past eleven when we left town, and about a quarter to one when wedropped down the hill into Watford town. Here "Benny" leant over andspoke to me. 

"Shan't lunch here, " he cried, as though the idea had come to himsuddenly; "get on to St. Albans or to Hatfield if you like. The RedLion will do me--drive on there and don't hurry. "

I made no answer, but drove quietly through the town, and so by the oldhigh road to St. Albans and thence to Hatfield. Truth to tell, the carinterested me far more than old Benny or his plans. She was steamingbeautifully, and I had six hundred pounds' pressure all the time. While that was so I didn't care the turn of a nut whether old Bennylunched at Watford or at Edinburgh, and as for his adventure with thegirl--well, you couldn't expect me to go talking about another man'sgood luck. In fact, I had forgotten all about it long before we wereat Hatfield, and when we had lunched and the old chap suddenlyremembered that he would like to spend the night at Newmarket, I wasnot so surprised--for this is the motorist's habit all the world over, and there's the wonder of the motor-car, that, whether you wish tosleep where you are or a hundred miles distant, she'll do the businessfor you and make no complaint about it. 

Perhaps you will say that I ought to have been surprised, ought to haveguessed that this man was up to no good and turned back to the nearestpolice station. It's easy to be a prophet after the event; and betweenwhat a man ought to do and what he does do on any given occasion, thereis often a pretty considerable margin when it comes to the facts. Idrove Benny willingly, not thinking anything at all about the matter. When he stopped in the town of Royston and said he would take a cup oftea with a cork to it, I thought it just the sort of thing such a manwould do. And I was ready myself for a cigarette and a strollround--for sitting all that time in the car makes a man's legs stiff, and no mistake about it. But I wasn't away more than ten minutes, andwhen I got back to the hotel "Benny" was already fuming at the door. 

"Where have you been to?" he asked in a voice unlike his own--the voiceof a man who knows "what's what" and will see that he gets it. "Whyweren't you with the car?"

"Been to the telegraph office, " said I quietly, for no bluster is goingto unship me--not much. 

"Telegraph office!" and here his face went white as a sheet, "what thedevil did you go there for?"

"What people usually go for, sir--to send a telegram. "

We looked each other full in the face for a moment, and I could see hewas sorry he had spoken. 

"I suppose you wanted to let your friends know, " he put it to me. Isaid it was just that--for such was the shortest way out of it. 

"Then get the car out at once and keep to the Newmarket Road. I shallsleep at the Randolph Arms to-night. "

I made no answer and we got away again. But, for all that, I thought alot, and all the time the White was flying along that fine bit of road, I was asking myself why Benny turned pale when he heard I had sent atelegram. Was this business with the girl, then, something which mightbring trouble on us both? Was he the man he represented himself to be?Those were the questions I could not answer, and they were still in myhead when we reached the village of Whittlesford and Benny suddenlyordered me to stop. 

"This looks a likely inn, " he said, pointing to a pretty little houseon the right-hand side of the road; "I think we might stop the nighthere, lad. They'll give us a good bed and a good glass of whisky, anyway, and what does a man want more? Run the car into the yard andwait while I talk to them. You won't die if we don't get to Newmarketto-night, I suppose?"

I said that it was all one to me, and put the car into the yard. Theinn was a beauty, and I liked the look of it. Perhaps Benny's newmanner disarmed me; he was as mild as milk just then, and as affable asa commercial with a sample in his bag. When he appeared again he hadthe landlord with him, and he told me he was going to stop. 

"Get a good dinner into you, lad, and then come and talk to me, " hesaid, putting a great paw on my shoulder, and leering apishly. "Wemayn't go to bed to-night, after all, for, to tell you the truth, Idon't like the colour of their sheets. You wouldn't mind sitting up, Idaresay, not supposing--well, that there was a ten-pound note hangingto it?"

I opened my eyes at this. 

"A ten-pound note, sir?"

"Yes, for robbing you of your bed. Didn't you tell me you were awonder at night driving. Well, I want to see what stuff you're madeof. "

I did not answer him, and, after talking a lot about my cleverness andthe way the car had run, he went in and had his dinner. What to makeof him or his proposal I knew no more than the dead. Certainly he haddone nothing which gave me any title to judge him, and a man with a jobto serve isn't over-ready to be nice about his masters, whatever theirdoings. I came to the conclusion that he was just a dotty old boy whohad gone crazy over some girl, and that he was driving out by night tosee her. All the talk about Watford and his letters was so muchjibarree and not meant for home consumption; but, in any case, it wasno affair of mine, nor could I be held responsible for what he did orwhat he left undone. 

This was the wisest view to take, and it helped me out afterwards. Hemade a good dinner, they told me, and drank a fine bottle of port, keptin the cellars of the house from the old days when gentlemen drovethemselves to Newmarket, and didn't spare the liquor by the way. Itwas half-past ten when I saw him again, and then he had one of theroly-poly cigars in his mouth and the ten-pound note in his hand. 

"Britten, " he said quite plain, "you know why I've come down here?"

"I think so, sir. "

"_Chercher les femmes_, as they say in Boolong--I'm down here to meetthe girl I'm going to marry. "

"Hope you'll find her well, sir. "

"Ah, that's just it. I shan't find her well if her old father can helpit. Damn him, he's nearly killed her with his oaths and swearing theselast two months. But it's going to stop, Britten, and stop to-night. She's waiting for this car over at Fawley Hill, which isn't half a milefrom this very door. "

He came a step nearer and thrust the ten-pound note under my very nose. "It's Lord Hailsham's place--straight up the hill to the right and onto the high road from Bishop's Stortford. There's a party for a silverwedding, and Miss Davenport is staying there with her father andmother. Bring her to this house and I'll give you fifty pounds. There's ten as earnest money. She's over age and can do what shelikes--and it's no responsibility of yours, anyway. "

I took the note in my hand and put a question. 

"Do I drive to the front door--I'm thinking not?"

"You drive to the edge of the spinney which you'll find directly youturn the corner. Wait there until Miss Davenport comes. Then driveher straight here and your money is earned. I'll answer for the restand she shall answer for herself. "

I nodded my head, and, folding up the note, I put it in my pocket. Thenight was clear when I drove away from the inn, but there was some mistin the fields and a goodish bit about the spinney they had pointed outto me. A child could have found the road, however, for it was just thehighway to Newmarket; and when I had cruised along it a couple ofhundred yards, to the very gates of Lord Hailsham's house, I turnedabout and stood off at the spinney's edge, perhaps three hundred yardsaway. Then I just lighted a cigarette and waited, as I had been toldto do. 

It was a funny job, upon my word. Sometimes I laughed when I thoughtabout it; sometimes I had a bit of a shiver down my back, the sort ofthing which comes to a man who's engaged in a rum affair, and may notcome well out of it. As for the party Lord Hailsham was giving, therecould be no doubt about that. I had seen the whole house lighted upfrom attic to kitchen, and some of the lights were still glisteningbetween the pollards in the spinny; while the stables themselves seemedalive with coachmen, carriages, and motor-cars. The road itself wasthe only secluded spot you could have pointed out for the third of amile about--but that was without a living thing upon it, and nothingbut a postman's cart passed me for an hour or more. 

I should have told you that I had turned the car and that she now stoodwith her headlights towards home. The mists made the night very cold, and I was glad to wrap myself up in one of the guvnor's rugs and smokea packet of cigarettes while I waited. From time to time I could hearthe music of fiddles, and they came with an odd echo, just as thoughsome merry tune of long ago chided me for being there all alone. Whenthey ceased I must have dropped asleep, for the next thing I knew wasthat some one was busy about the car and that my head-lamps had bothgone out. Be sure I jumped up like a shot at this, and "Hallo, " criedI, "what the devil do you think you are doing?" Then I saw my mistake. The new-comer was a girl, one of the maids of the house, it appeared, and she was stowing luggage into the car. 

"Oh, " says I, "then Miss Davenport is coming, is she?"

The girl went on with her work, hardly looking at me. When she didspeak I thought her voice sounded very odd; and instead of answering meshe asked a question:

"Do you know the road to Colchester?"

"To Colchester?"

"You take the first to the left when we leave here--then go right aheaduntil I tell you to stop. Understand, whatever happens you are to getahead as fast as you can. The rest is with----"

He came to an abrupt halt, and no wonder. If you had given me tenthousand pounds to have kept my tongue still, I would have lost themoney that instant. For who do you think the maid was? Why, no otherthan the starchy valet, Joseph, I had seen at Mr. Colmacher's flat. 

"Up you get, my boy, " he cried, throwing all disguise to the winds, "Don't you hear that noise? They have discovered Miss Davenport isgoing and the job's off. We'll tell Benny in the morning--the thing todo to-night is to show them our heels and sharp about it. "

He bade me listen, and I heard the ringing of an alarm bell, thebarking of hounds, and then the sound of many voices. Some suspicion, ay, more than that, a pretty shrewd guess at the truth was possiblethen, and I would have laid any man ten pounds to nothing that "love"was not much in this business, whatever the real nature of it might be. For that matter, the fellow had hardly got the words out of his mouthwhen the glitter of something bright he had dropped on the ground, caused me to stoop and to pick up a gold watch bracelet set indiamonds. The same instant I heard a man running on the road behindme, and who should come up but the very "ne'er-do-well" who helped meto wash down my car but yesterday morning. 

"Hold that man!" he cried, throwing himself at the valet. "He'sMarchant, the Yankee hotel robber--hold him in the King's name--I'm apolice officer, and I have a warrant. "

Now, this was something if you like, and I don't think any one is goingto wonder either at my surprise, or at the hesitation which overtookme. To find myself, in this way, confronted by two men who had seemedso different from what they were, and that not twenty-four hours ago;to discover one of them disguised as a woman and the other saying hewas a police officer--well, do you blame me for standing there with mymouth wide open, and my eyes staring with the surprise of it? Pity Idid so, all the same, for the "ne'er-do-well" was on the floor nextmoment, and it didn't need a second look to tell me that it would be along time before he got up again. 

I shall never forget if I live a hundred years (which would be prettylucky for a man who thinks less than nothing of speed limits and isknown to all the justices in Sussex), I shall never forget the way thatvalet turned on poor Kennaway (for that was the detective's name) andlaid him flat on the grass. Such a snarl of rage I never heard. Theman seemed transformed in an instant from a silent, reserved, taciturnservant to a very maniac, fighting with teeth and claw, cursing andswearing horribly, and as strong as a gorilla. 

Again and again he struck at his victim, the heavy blows sounding likethe thud of iron upon a carpet; and long before I got my wits back andleaped to Kennaway's assistance, that poor fellow was insensible andmoaning upon the grass at the roadside. The next thing that I knewabout it was that I had a revolver as close to my forehead as arevolver will ever be, and that the man Joseph was pushing me towardthe car, the while he said something to which I must listen if I wouldsave my life. 

"Get up, you fool, " he cried. "Do you want me to treat you as I'vetreated him? Get up, or by the Lord I'll blow your brains out!"

Well, judge me for it how you will, but I obeyed him as any child. What I had tried to do for poor Kennaway was shown by the cut across myforehead, which I shall carry to my dying day. Such strength and suchtemper I have never known in any man, and they frightened me beyond allwords to tell you. There are human beings and human animals, and thisfellow was of the latter sort. No raving maniac could have done worseto any fellow creature; and when I got up to the driver's seat andstarted the engine, my hands trembled so that I could hardly keep themon the wheel. 

We jumped away, a roar of voices behind us and the alarm bell of thehouse still ringing. What was in my head was chiefly this, that I wasgoing out upon the road with this madman for a companion, and thatsooner or later he would make an end of me. Judge of my position, knowing, as I did, that a murderer sat in the tonneau behind, and thathe held a revolver at full cock in his hand. My God! it was an awfuljourney, the most awful I shall ever make. 

He would kill me when it suited him to do it. I was as sure of it asof my own existence. In one mile or twenty, here in the lanes ofCambridgeshire, or over yonder when we drew near to the sea, thismadman would do the business. More fearful than any danger a man canface was this peril at the back of me. I listened for a word or soundfrom him; I tried to look behind me and see what he was doing. Henever made a movement, and for miles we roared along that silent road, through the mists and the darkness to the unknown goal--a murderer andhis victim, as I surely believed myself to be. 

There is many a man who has the nerve for a sudden call, but few whocan stand a trial long sustained. All that I can tell you of what fearis like, the fear of swift death, and of the pain and torture of it, would convey nothing to you of my sensations during that mad drive. Sometimes I could almost have wished that he would make an end of itthen and there, shooting me in mercy where I sat, and sparing me theagony of uncertainty. But mile after mile we went without a sound fromhim; and when, in sheer despair, I slowed down and asked him adirection, he was on me like a tiger, and I must race again for verylife. Through Haverhill, thence to Sibil Ingham and Halstead--ay, until the very spires of Colchester stood out in the dawn light, thatrace went on. And I began to say that he might spare me after all, that I was necessary to him, and that his destination was Harwich andthe morning steamer to Holland. Fool! it was then he fired at me, thenthat the end came. 

I thought that I heard him move; some instinct--for there is aninstinct in these things, let others say what they please--caused me toturn half about, and detect him standing in the tonneau. No time forprudence then, no time for resolution or anything but that fear ofdeath which paralyses the limbs and seems to still the very heart. With a cry that was awful to hear, he fired his pistol, and I heard thereport of it as thunder in my ear, the while the powder burned my faceas the touch of red-hot iron. But a second shot he never fired. Asudden lurch, as I let go the wheel, sent the car bounding on to thegrass at the road-side, threw the murderer off his balance and hurledhim backwards. There was a tremendous crash, I found myself beneaththe tonneau, and then, as it seemed, on the top of it again. At last Iwent rolling over and over on to the grass, and lay there, God knowshow long, in very awe and terror of all that had overtaken me. 

But the valet himself was stone dead, caught by the neck as the carwent over and crushed almost beyond recognition. And that was thejudgment upon him, as I shall believe to my life's end. 

 * * * * *

They never caught old "Benny, " not for that job, at any rate. Heturned out to be the head of a swindling crew, known in America andParis as the "Red Poll" gang, because of his beautiful sandy hair. Hemust have been wanted for fifty jobs in Europe, and as many on theother side. As for his supposed son, Mr. Walter, and the valetMarchant, they were but two of the company. And why they came toengage me was because of a motor accident to the man Walter, which puthim out of the running when the burglary job at Lord Hailsham's was tobe undertaken. 

Kennaway, the detective, was three months in hospital after his littlelot. It was clever of him to make me post a telegram on the road, for, directly he got it, he wired to the Chief Constable at Cambridge, andcame on himself by train. The local police furnished a list of all thehouse-parties being held about Royston that week-end, and, of course, as Lord Hailsham was celebrating his silver wedding, it didn't needmuch wit to send Kennaway there; the valet, meanwhile, being already inthe house, disguised as a maid. 

We were to have had a bit of a silver wedding ourselves, it appears, for I doubt not "Benny" would have led all the silver, to say nothingof the gold and precious stones, to the altar as soon as possible. Butthe best laid schemes of mice and men gang aft agley, as do motor-carswhen the man who's driving them has a pistol at his head. 

III

IN ACCOUNT WITH DOLLY ST. JOHN

My old father used to say that "woman's looks were his only books andfolly was all they taught him, " which shows, I suppose, that what heknew about the sex he learned from a circulating library. 

Anyway, he never drove a motor-car, or he would have written in anotherstrain. Sometimes I pick up a piece in the newspapers about women andthen I laugh to myself, thinking how many mugs there are in the worldand how they were born for the other sex to make game of. Let 'em geton the driver's seat and take madam round an afternoon or two. Therewon't be much talk about gentle shepherdesses after that, I'llwager--though if a crook or two don't get into the story I'm Dutchman. 

Well, you must know that this is about Dolly St. John--a littleAmerican girl, who hired a car from the Empire Company when I was oneof its drivers, and had a pretty little game with us. I used to go forher every afternoon to some hotel or the other, and always a differentone, she not being domesticated, so to speak, and never caring tooverstay her welcome. 

A daintier little body was never fitted upon a chassis. There are somewho like them fair, and some who like them dark--but Dolly St. John wasbetwixt and between, neither the one nor the other, but a type thatgets there every time, and turns twenty heads when a policeman stopsyou at a crossing. 

It's very natural that young women should like to talk to theirdrivers; and, if the truth were told, some of them will tell us thingsthey would never speak of, no, not to their own husbands, if they'vegot any. Dolly was one of these, and a more talkative little bodynever existed. I knew her history the very first afternoon I took herround; and by the third, I could have told you that she had met theHon. John Sarand, and meant to marry him, even if his old father, LordBadington, had to go on the halls in consequence. 

I had driven Dolly about three weeks, if I remember rightly, when ourpeople first began to get uneasy. It was all very well for her to talkabout her uncle, Nathaniel St. John, of New York City, who made ahundred thousand dollars a day by blowing bubbles through a telephone;but her bill for seventy-five sixteen and four remained unpaid, andwhen Hook-Nosed Moss, our manager, asked her for it, all he got was acigarette out of a bon-bon box, and an intimation that if he came on asimilar errand again, she'd write to the papers about it. Had she notbeen a born little actress, who could have earned twenty a week on anystage in London, the man would have closed the deal on the spot, andleft it to the lawyers. But she just tickled him like a carburettor, and he went home to say that the money was better than Consols, and thefirm making a fool of itself. 

I drove her for another week after this, chiefly to the theatre withthe Honorary John, and to supper afterwards. She had a wonderful maniafor shopping, and used to spend hours in Regent Street, while I readthe _Auto-Car_ outside, and fell to asking myself how long it wouldlast. You don't deceive the man who drives the car--be sure of it. Either she led the Honorary John to the financial altar, or her pooruncle would be on the Rocky Mountains--I hadn't a doubt of it. 

I liked her, that goes without saying. A man's a fool who tells youthat a pretty woman's charm is less because her bankers are wonderinghow they shall get the cheque-book back, and the tradesman round thecorner is blotting his ledger with tears. In a way I was in love withMiss Dolly, and would have married her myself upon any provocation; butbefore I could make up my mind to it either way, she'd gone like aflash, and half the bill collectors in London after her. This Ilearned during the week following the disappearance. She sent for meone day to pick her up at Joran's Hotel, and when I got there, and thehotel porter had handed out two rugs and a Pomeranian, down comes thechambermaid to say madam had not returned since eleven o'clock. Andthen I knew by some good instinct that the game was up--and, handingthe Pomeranian back, I said, "Be good to him, for he's an orphan. "

This was a surmise--a surmise and nothing more; and yet how true itproved! I had a 'tec with me on the following afternoon, and a prettytale he had to tell. Not, mind you, as he himself declared, that Dollywas really dishonest. She had left a few bills behind her; but whereis the woman who does not do that, and who would think the better ofher if she didn't? Dolly wasn't a thief by a long way--but hershopping mania was wild enough to be written about, and she boughtthousands of pounds' worth of goods in London, just for the merepleasure of ordering them and nothing more. 

I often laugh when I think how she fooled the tradesmen in Bond Streetand the West End. Just imagine them bowing and scraping when she told'em to send home a thousand-pound tiara, or a two-hundred-guinea whitefox, and promised they should be paid on delivery. Why, they strewedher path with bows and smiles--and when they sent home the goods to aflat by Regent's Park--an address she always gave--they found it emptyand no one there to take delivery. No more bows and smiles after that;but what could they do, and what offence had she committed? That wasjust what the 'tec asked me, and I could not answer. 

"We know most of 'em, " he said, "but she's a right-down finger-printfrom the backwoods. Nathaniel St. John cables from New York that hedoesn't know her, but will be pleased to make her acquaintance, ifwe'll frank her over. I tell these people they can sue her--but, man, you might as well sue the statue of Oliver Cromwell----"

"He being stony-broke likewise, " said I. "Well, she had a run for hermoney, and here's good luck to her. I hope that I haven't seen her forthe last time. "

"If you have, " says he, "put me in Madame Tussaud's. When next youhear of Dolly St. John it will be in something big. Remember that whenthe day comes. "

I told him I would not forget it, and we parted upon it. Dolly was apretty bit of goods for a tea-party, but a driver sees too many facesto keep one over-long in his memory, and I will say straight out, thatI had forgotten her very name when next I saw her, and was just aboutthe most astonished man inside the four-mile radius when I picked herup one fine afternoon at a West End hotel, and she told me we weregoing to drive into the country together. 

"But, " says I, "this car has been hired by Miss Phyllis More----"

"Oh, you stupid man!" cried she. "Don't you see that I am Miss PhyllisMore? I thought you were clever enough to understand that ladieschange their names sometimes, Britten. Now, why shouldn't I be PhyllisMore if I wish to? Are you going to be unkind enough to tell peopleabout it? I'm sure you are not, for you were so very good to me whenlast I was in England. "

Now all this took place in her private room, to which I had been sentup by the porter. Three months had passed since I drove Dolly and theHonorary John, but not a whit had she changed; and I found her just thesame seductive little witch with the dimples and the curly brown hair, who had played the deuce with the West End tradesmen lastChristmas-time. Beautifully dressed in green, with a pretty motorveil, she was a picture I must say; and when I looked at her andremembered Hook-Nosed Moss, our traffic manager at the Empire Company, and how he docked me four and nine last Saturday, I swore I'd take her;yes, if she ordered me to drive through to San Francisco. 

"I don't suppose I ought to do it, miss, " I said, "unless your uncle inNew York has left you anything----"

"Oh, " she burst out, laughing as she said it, "he's dead, Britten;besides, I don't want any uncles now, for I shall marry Mr. Saranddirectly Lord Badington gives his consent--and that won't be long, forwe are going down to his house to-night to get it. "

I told her frankly that I was glad to hear it, and that I thought Mr. Sarand a very lucky gentleman. What's more, I believed her story, andI knew that if this marriage came off, there would not be much troubleabout my firm's seventy-five, and that half the tradesmen in Londonwould be running after Dolly again inside a week. So I made up my mindto do it, and, sending a wire back to the yard, telling them that thelady wanted the car for two or three days, and explaining to her that Imust buy myself some luggage as she went--for I do like a clean collarof evenings--I was ready for Miss Phyllis More, and not at alldispleased with the venture. 

"She'd been hard put to it to keep going in London, while John did thecourting, " said I to myself, "and that's what caused her to change hername. If she doesn't catch him, we're another twenty-five down, andMoss will have to turn Jew. Well, I can get plenty of jobs as good ashis, and there aren't many Dolly St. Johns in the world, all said anddone. I'll risk it, and take my gruelling afterwards. What's more, ifMr. John's papa don't come up to the scratch, I'll put a word in formyself. It would make a line in the newspapers anyway, and who knowsbut what we mightn't both get engaged at the halls?"

Of course, this was only my way of putting it; but I really was pleasedto be driving such a pretty girl again; and when her old cane trunkcame down, and we fixed it on to the grid behind, and half a dozenhat-boxes littered up the back seats, I felt that old times had comeagain, and that I was one of the luckiest drivers in the country. 

"How far are we going, miss?" I asked her when all was ready. 

"To Lord Badington's house--near Sandwich in Kent. "

"It's a longish run, and we shan't get there before dark. "

"Oh, " says she, "they don't expect me until quite late; indeed, I don'tthink Lord Badington himself returns before the last train from town. "

I noticed that she laid a lot of stress upon the words, "LordBadington, " for the benefit of the hotel porters, no doubt; but Iwasn't angry with her for that, remembering that she was a singlewoman, and perhaps unprotected; and without any more words we set outacross Westminster Bridge, and were very soon picking our way down theOld Kent Road. A couple of hours later we came to Maidstone, where wehad tea; it was a quarter past five precisely when we made a new startfor Canterbury, and a good hour and a half later when we entered thatmusty old town. 

I shall never forget that journey, the country just showing the buds ofspring, the roads white and beautiful, the twenty Renault running assmooth as a beautiful clock. Three months had passed since I haddriven Miss Dolly, and this was the month of May. Yet here she was, just the same wicked little witch as ever, trotting round on a wilderrand, and about to come out best, I could swear. As for me, I hadthe sack before me for a certainty; but little I cared for that. Whowould have done, with Dolly St. John for his passenger?

We drove through Canterbury, I say, and set the car going her best onthe fair road after Sturry is passed. I know the country hereaboutspretty well, being accustomed to visit fashionable watering-places fromtime to time, and well acquainted with Ramsgate and Margate, to saynothing of Deal and Dover. My road lay by Monkton, down toward PegwellBay, and it was just at the entrance to Minster that Dolly made me stopwithout much warning, and took me into her confidence for the firsttime. 

"Britten, " says she, "there is something I didn't tell you, but which Ithink I ought to tell you now. I'm not asked to Lord Badington's houseat all. "

"Not asked, " said I, with a mouth wide enough open to swallow a pint ofgear-box "B. " "Then what's the good of going there, if you're notinvited?"

"Oh, " says she, more sweetly than ever, "I think they'll be glad tohave me if I do get inside, Britten; but we shall have to act our partsvery well. "

I laughed at this. 

"Seeing that neither of us is in the theatrical line, I don't supposethat anybody is going to take me for Sir Beerbohm Tree, or you for theMerry Widow, " says I, "but, anyway, I'll do my best. "

This pleased her, and she looked at me out of her pretty eyes, justsweet enough to make a man think himself a beauty. 

"You see, Britten, " says she, "if the car broke down just outside LordBadington's house, perhaps they would give me shelter for the night; atleast, I hope they would, and if they would not, well, it doesn'treally matter, and we can go and stop at the hotel at Sandwich. Itwould have to be a real breakdown, for Lord Badington keeps motor-carsof his own, and his drivers would be sure to be clever at puttinganything right----"

"Oh, " says I, quickly enough, "if they can get this car right when Ihave done with it, I'll put up statues to 'em in the British Museum. You say no more, miss. We'll break down right enough, and if you arenot breakfasting with his lordship to-morrow morning, don't blame me. "

She nodded her head; and I could swear the excitement of it set hereyes on fire. Lord Badington's house, you must know, standsoverlooking Pegwell Bay, not very far from the golf links, while theRamsgate Road runs right before its doors. There is nothing but a bitof an inn near by, and not a cottage in sight. I saw that the placecould not have been better chosen, and fifty yards from the big irongates I got off my seat and prepared for business. 

"You're really sure that you mean this, miss?" I asked her, knowingwhat women are. "You won't change your mind afterwards, and blame mebecause the car isn't going?"

"How can you ask such a thing?" was her answer. "Doesn't my wholefuture depend on our success, Britten?"

"Then you won't have long to wait, " I rejoined, and, opening thebonnet, I set to work upon the magneto, and in twenty minutes had donethe job as surely as it could have been done by the makers themselves. 

"If this car is going on to-night, " said I, "some one will have to pushit. Now will you please tell me what is the next move, miss, for I'mbeginning to think I should like my supper?"

She was down on the road herself by this time, and pretty enough shelooked in her motor veil, and the beautiful sables which Mr. Sarand hadgiven her last winter. When she told me to go on to the house, and tosay that a lady's motor-car had broken down at the gates, I would havelaid twenty to one on the success of her scheme, always provided thatwe weren't left to the menials who bark incivilities at a nobleman'sdoor. Here luck stood by Miss Dolly, for hardly had I pulled the greatbell at Lord Badington's gate when his own car came flying up thedrive, with his lordship himself sitting in the back of it. 

"What do you want, my man?" he asked, in a quick, sharp tone--he's awonder for fifty-two, and there has been no smarter man in the Guardssince he left them. "Where do you come from?"

"Begging your pardon, sir, " said I, for I didn't want to pretend that Iknew him for a lord, "but my mistress's car has come by a bit oftrouble, and she sent me to ask if any one could help her. "

"What, you're broken down----"

"It's just that, sir; magneto gone absolutely wrong. I shall have tobe towed if I go any further to-night. "

He stood on the steps beside me, and seemed to hesitate an instant. Aword and he would have told his own chauffeur to drive us on toSandwich; but it was never spoken, and I'll tell you why. Miss Dollyherself had followed me up the drive, and she arrived upon the scene atthat very instant. 

"Oh, I am so sorry to trouble you, " she cried in her sweetest voice, "but my car's gone all wrong, and I'm so tired and hungry, I don't knowwhat to do. Will you let me rest here just a little while?"

Talk about actresses; there isn't one of 'em in the West End would havedone half so well. There she was, looking the picture of distress, andthere was his lordship, twisting his moustache, and eyeing her as onewho was at his wits' end to know what to do. If he didn't take long tocome to a resolution, put it down to Dolly's blue eyes--he couldn't seethe colour of them at that time of night, but he could feel them, I'llbe bound; and, jumping, as it were, to a conclusion he turned to hisman and gave him an order. 

"This lady will stay here to-night, " he said. "Go and help her driverto get the car in, and see that he is looked after, " and withoutanother word he waited for Miss Dolly to enter the house. Believe me, I never thought Mr. John's stock stood higher--and "Britten, my boy, "says I to myself, "if this isn't worth a cool fifty when the right timecomes, don't you never drive a pretty girl no more. "

I had a rare lark that night, partly with Biggs, his lordship'schauffeur, and partly with a motor expert who came along on a bicycle, and said he'd have my Renault going in twenty minutes. I'm not onethat can stand a billet in servants' quarters, and I chose rather toput up at the little inn down by the bay and take my luck there. Itwas here that Biggs came after supper, and he and the motor expert gotgoing on my high-tension magneto. 

Bless the pair of them, they might have been a month there, and nobetter off--for, you must know that I had taken out the armature, andif you take out an armature and don't slip a bit of soft iron in afterit, your magnets are done for, and will never be worth anything againuntil they are re-magnetised. This baffled the pair of them, and theywere there until after eleven o'clock, drinking enough beer to float abarge, and confessing that it was a mystery. 

"Never see such a thing in ten years' experience, " said the motorexpert. 

"I'm blowed if I don't think the devil has got inside the magneto, "said Biggs; and there I agreed with him. For wasn't it Miss Dolly whohad done it, and isn't she--but there, that wouldn't be polite to thesex, so I won't write it down. 

I learned from Biggs that Lord Badington's daughter and stepson werestaying in the house with him, and a couple of old gentlemen, who, whenthey weren't making laws at Westminster, were making fools ofthemselves on the links at Sandwich. It was a golfing party, in fact, and next morning early, Biggs took them on to Prince's--and, will youbelieve me?--the car came back for the ladies by-and-by, and off wentMiss Dolly, as calmly as though she had known them all her life. Not aword to me, not a word about going on, or getting the car ready, butjust a nod and a laugh as she went by, and a something in her eyeswhich seemed to say, "Britten, I'm doing famously, and I haven'tforgotten you. "

The same afternoon about tea-time she sent for me, and had a word withme in the hall. I learned then that she had promised to stop until thefollowing morning, and she asked, in a voice which nobody couldmistake, if the car would be ready. When I told her that I was waitingfor a new magneto from London I thought she would kiss me on the spot. 

"Oh, Britten, " she said in a whisper, "suppose we couldn't get on forthree or four days. "

"In that case, " said I, "I should consider that we were reallyunfortunate, miss, but I'll do my best. "

"Are you comfortable at the inn, Britten?"

"Putting on flesh rapidly, miss. I never knew there were so many redherrings in the world. "

"And your room?"

"They built it when they thought the King was coming to Sandwich. "

She laughed and looked at me, and, just as I was leaving, shewhispered, "Do make it three or four days, Britten, " and I promised herwith a glance she could not mistake. And why not? What was againstus? Was it not all plain sailing? Truly so, but for one little fact. I'll tell you in a word--Hook-Nosed Moss and the old bill he carriedabout like a love-letter--a bill against Dolly St. John forseventy-five pounds sixteen shillings and fourpence. 

Well, Moss came down from town suddenly on the second afternoon, andwhile he carried a new magneto under his arm, the bill was in hispocket right enough. I was standing at the inn door as he drove up ina fly, and when I recognised the face, you might have knocked me downwith a cotton umbrella. Not, mind you, that I lost my presence ofmind, or said anything foolish, but just that I felt sorry enough forDolly St. John to risk all I'd got in the world to save her from thisland shark. That Moss had found her out, I did not doubt for aninstant, and his first words told me I was right. 

"Do you know who you've been trotting about the country?" he asked, ashe stepped down. I replied that I did not, but that I believed thelady to be a relative of Lord Badington's. Then he was fair angry. 

"Lord Badington be d----d, " he said, speaking through his nose as healways did, "her dabe's Dolly Sid John, and she's the sabe who did usid de winter. I wonder you were such a precious fool as not torecognise her. Do you mean to dell me you didn't dow her?"

"What!" I cried, opening my eyes wide, "she Dolly St. John! Well, youdo surprise me; and she gone to Dover this very afternoon--leastwise, if it isn't to Dover, it's to Folkestone--but Biggs would tell us. Areyou quite sure about it, sir?"

He swore he was sure, and went on to tell me that if I hadn't been thegreatest chump in Europe I would have known it from the start. 

"Where are your eyes?" he kept asking me; "do you mean to say you candrive a woman for ted days in London and not dow her again three monthsafterwards? A fine sort of chap you are. You deserve a statue in theFools' Museum, upod my word you do. Now take me to the car, and let'ssee what's the matter. I'll have more to say to you whed we're inLondon, you mark that, my man. "

I didn't give him any cheek, much as I would have liked to. My gamewas to protect Miss Dolly as far as I was able, and to hold my tonguefor her sake. 

Clearly her position was perilous. If this dun of a Jew went up to thehouse, and told them her name was not More, but St. John, the fat wouldbe in the fire with a vengeance, and her chance of marrying John Sarandabout equal to mine of mating with the crowned heads of Europe. Whatto do I knew no more than the dead. I had no messenger to send up tothe house; I dare not leave Moss to get talking to the people of theinn; and there I was, helping him to fit and time the new magneto, andjust feeling I'd pay ten pounds for the privilege of knocking him downwith his own spanner. 

We finished the job in about half an hour, and the Renault started upat once. Moss hadn't spoken of Miss Dolly while we were at work; butdirectly the engine started he remembered his business, and turned onme like a fury. 

"Whed did you say she started off?" he asked. 

"About two this afternoon, I think. "

"In whose car?"

"Why, his lordship's, of course. "

"She seems pretty thick with the dobility. Perhaps I'd better give hera chadce of paying?"

I smiled. 

"There's boats to France at Dover, " said I. "What if she's going overby the night mail?"

He looked at me most shrewdly. 

"I can't make you out, Britten, " says he; "either you are the greatestfool or the greatest rogue id my ebployment. Subtimes you seeb cleverenough, too. Suppose we rud the car over to Dover and see what's doingthere. "

"Yes, " said I, "and you can telephone to the pier at Folkestone to haveher stopped if she's sailing from there. "

He snapped his fingers and smiled all over his face. 

"That's it!" he cried. "If she's leaving the coudtry I'll arrest her. I wish you'd been half as sharp when you picked her up id London. "

"It's these motor veils, " said I. "You can't expect a man to seethrough three thicknesses of shuffon--now can you, Mr. Moss?"

It was a lucky shot, and, upon my word, I really do believe that Ibegan to wheedle him, Whether I did, or whether I did not, we had thecar upon the road in ten minutes, and were off for Dover before aquarter of an hour had passed. Previous to that I had slipped into theinn on the pretence of leaving my coat, and had left a letter for MissDolly to be taken up by Biggs, when he came there to meet me for ourevening walk. "Moss is here, " I wrote, "look out for yourself. "

I laugh now when I think of that journey to Dover, and old Shekels Mosssitting like a hawk on the seat beside me. What lies I had to tellhim--what starts I gave him, when I pointed out that she might havegone by the afternoon boat, or perhaps motored right on to Southampton. My own idea was to stop the night at Dover, whatever happened, and nosooner had we drawn up at the "Lord Warden, " than I had a penknife intothe off front tyre, and turned my back when the wind fizzed out. Thisstopped the run to Folkestone straight away, and, by the time I'd donethe job, Moss said he thought he would telephone the police, as Isuggested, describing Miss Dolly, but saying nothing about his lordship. 

"He might do pusiness with us, Britten, " he remarked. "I won't havehis dabe in it--but I'll tell him about her directly I get the chadce, and she won't be long in his house, dow will she?"

"Perhaps not, " said I; "but if she marries his lordship's son, the bootwill be on the other leg. You'd better think of that, Mr. Moss. "

"What I want is my modey, " he rejoined. "If she don't pay, she goes toprison--I dow too much about the peerage to be stuffed with promises. Either the modey or the writ. I'll feed here, Britten, and go back toSadwich, if she's not on the boats. Perhaps we were a couple of foolsto come at all. "

I said nothing, but was pretty sure that one fool had come along in thecar, anyway. My business was to keep Moss at Dover as long as mightbe, and in that I succeeded well enough. Nothing could save Miss Dollyif he went blundering up to Lord Badington's house with his story ofwhat she'd done in London, and how fond certain West End tradesmen hadbecome of her. Given time enough, I believed the pretty little ladywould wheedle his lordship to consent to her marriage with Mr. Sarand. But time she must have, and if she did not get it, well, then, time ofanother kind might await her. It would have broken my heart to seemisfortune overtake pretty Dolly St. John, and I swore that it shouldnot, if any wit of mine could prevent it. 

Moss took about an hour and a half over his dinner, and when he cameout he was picking his teeth with a great steel prong, and looking aspleased as though he had done the hotel waiters out of fourpence. Isaw that he had come to some resolution, and that it was a satisfactoryone. There was a twinkle in his little eyes you could not mistake, andhe shook his head while he talked to me, just as though I were buyingold clothes of him at twice their value. 

"Britten, " he asked, "are you all ready?"

"Quite ready, sir, " said I--for I'd just that minute shoved my knifeinto another tyre. "Are you going back to Sandwich?"

"I'm going to Lord Badington's, " says he, with a roar of laughter, "whynot? I'm going to ask for Miss Phyllis More, and say she's an ode fredof the family. Ha, ha! what do you think of that, Britten? Will I getthe modey or won't I? Well, we'll see, my boy--so start her up, and bequick about it. "

I said "Yes, sir, " and went round to the front of the car. My cry ofastonishment when I saw the burst tyre would have done credit to Mr. Henry Irving himself. Perhaps I said some things I shouldn't havesaid--Moss did, anyway, and he raved so loud that the ostler had totell him his wife and children were upstairs. 

"Another tyre gone--what do I pay you wages for? Adser me that! Whothe ---- is going to pay the bill? Don't you see I must get to Sadwichto-night? A pretty sort of a dam fool you must be. Now you get thatcar going in twedy minutes, or I'll leave you in the street--so help meheaven I will----" And so on and so on, until I could have dropped forlaughing where I stood. 

It was touching to hear him, upon my word it was; but I held my tonguefor Miss Dolly's sake, and went to work quietly to take off the coverand examine the tube for the cut I didn't mean to find. When I toldhim presently that this was the last tube we had, and he'd better giveme two pound eight to go and buy a new one, I thought his languagewould blow the ships out of the harbour; but he never gave me themoney, and then I knew that he meant to stay at Dover all night, andthat Miss Dolly had until the morning, anyway. "And by that time, "said I to myself, "she'll be off to London if she's clever enough, andperhaps find Mr. Sarand at the station to meet her. "

I slept upon this--for you will understand that Moss had no realintention of going on that night, after he heard about the tubes--andat nine o'clock next morning I had my car ready, and drove her round tothe "Lord Warden. " The run to Sandwich is not over-exciting in anordinary way, but I found it quite lively enough on that particularoccasion, when there were all sorts of doubts and fears in my headabout Miss Dolly, and the sure and certain knowledge that I should getthe sack whatever happened. Indeed, I might properly have been moreanxious about myself than the lady, for I never doubted that she wouldhave made a bolt for London by the time we arrived, and there was nomore disappointed man in Thanet when, on reaching the inn, Biggs toldme that she was still at the house. An inquiry whether he haddelivered my letter met with the amazing response that they had givenhim no letter, and when I rushed into the house to ask what had becomeof it, there it was, on the mantelshelf of the bar-parlour, just whereI had left it. Never did a man meet with a worse blow. I knew thenthat Miss Dolly was done for, and I did not believe that the day couldpass and keep the police from Lord Badington's doorstep. 

I should tell you that Moss had called at the police station atSandwich as we drove through, and that a sergeant and a constable cameover to the inn on bicycles about midday. Their questioning me helpedthem a mighty lot, for I contrived to look as foolish as a yokel whenyou ask him the way to Nowhere; and all I could tell them was that thelady had come down upon Lord Badington's invitation, and, when she wastired of it, I supposed she would go away again. All of which theytook down in pocket-books about as large as a family Bible, and thenset out for the house, while I watched them with my heart in my veryboots, and the sort of feeling that might overtake a man if the policeset out to arrest his own sweetheart. 

Biggs, I should tell you, was with me when this happened, and mightycurious he was about it all. Of course, I told him that Moss wasmaking a fool of himself, and that there would be a pretty actionafterwards if he didn't behave properly to Miss Dolly. None the less, he was just as curious as I was, and directly the other party had left, we followed on their heels, and were through the lodge gates almost assoon as they were. As for Lal Britten, his heart went pat-a-pat, likea girl's at a wedding. I could have knocked Moss down cheerful, andpaid forty bob for doing it with the greatest pleasure in my life. Butthat wouldn't have helped Miss Dolly, you see, so I just trudged up thedrive after Moss, and said nothing whatever to anybody. 

Bless us all--how the chap did walk. There he was, head bent down, shoulders sagging, his step shuffling as though he wore slippers, andin his eyes that money fever which, to me, is one of the most awfulthings in all the world. Even the police were rather disgusted withhim, I think, and the sergeant told me afterwards that he would havepaid fifty pounds to have got out of the job. For that matter, neitherhe nor his underling said a word to Moss when they rang at the frontdoor bell, and they didn't seem to think it at all wonderful that Biggsand I should be upon the doorstep with them. So all together we waitedquite a long time before old Hill, the butler, came jauntily along thegreat corridor, and opened to us very deliberately. And now for it, Ithought--and oh, my poor Dolly, whatever is going to happen to you!

"Party of the dabe of Miss More--is she sdaying in this house?" asksMoss, half pushing his way in, and trying to look impudent. You shouldhave seen the butler's face when he answered him. 

"Who the devil are you?" he asked, "and what do you mean by coming herelike this? Outside, my man, or I'll put you there pretty quick. "

He took Moss by the collar, and, turning him about as though he were ababe, shoved him on the wrong side of the door before you could havesaid "knife. " Then he turned to the sergeant. 

"What's all this, Sergeant Joyce?" he asked. "Why do you bring thisperson here?"

"Oh, " stammered the sergeant, "he says that a certain Miss More----"

"I beg you pardon, " cried the butler quickly, "I think you should speakof Lady Badington--my master left for Paris at eight o'clock thismorning. "

"What!" roared Moss--and you could have heard him on the GoodwinSands--"Lord Badington's married her?"

"I believe those are the facts, " says Hill, very quietly--andthen--well, and then I sat down on the doorstep and I laughed until thetears ran down my face. Oh, Lord! oh, Lord!--and Moss's face! But youwill understand all that, and how the sergeant looked, and the smile onthe butler's face, without me saying a single word about it. 

"Take a week's notice, and be d----d to you!" cried I, turning upon mymaster all of a sudden. "Do you think I'll serve with a man who sentpolicemen after his best customers? You go to hell, Moss--where youought to have been long ago, " and with that I just walked off down thedrive, and Biggs with me. Lord, what an afternoon we had! And thenight we spent afterwards in Ramsgate!

For, you see, it was quite true. Old Lord Badington, who never couldlook at a pretty woman twice without falling in love with her, foundhimself mostly alone with Mistress Dolly at Sandwich, and, by all thatis true and wonderful, he married her. 

Not that she was Dolly St. John at all, you must know, but DollyHamilton in reality; and connected, I am told, with the old Americanfamily, the Hamiltons of Philadelphia. What she did in London wasdone, I do believe, for the sheer excitement of doing it. And if folkshave called her an adventuress, set that down to the rogues oftrustees, who played ducks and drakes with her fortune, and left her inEurope to shift as best she might. 

I got a hundred pounds for that job, sent by Miss Dolly herself fromVenice. Moss got his car back, and three or four punctured tubes. Some day, I suppose, they'll pay him that seventy-five pounds sixteenshillings and four-pence. But I hope it won't be yet. 

The Honorary John, they tell me, is very angry with his papa. But I'llback an old boy every time--notwithstanding what is written in thepapers. 

IV

THE LADY WHO LOOKED ON

I wonder how many nowadays remember that pretty bit of goods, MaisaHubbard, who used to drive the racing cars in France, and was theparticular fancy of half the motormen who drive on the other side ofthe blue water. 

I first met her at the Gordon Bennett of 1901, and I must say I thoughther "sample goods. " It's true that many would have it she wasover-well-known in America, and more than one young man got on therocks because of her; but the world rather likes a bit of scandal abouta pretty woman, and there's no shorter road to the masculine favour. 

Anyway, Maisa Hubbard was popular enough down at Bordeaux, and youmight still have called her the belle of the ball on June 26 in theyear 1902, when we started from Champigny for the great race across theArlberg Mountains. That was the occasion, you will remember, when twoof our little company did something by way of a record in smashing uptheir cars--but the story of one of these, Max, who drove for a Frenchcompany, has so often been told that I shall certainly not re-tell ithere. The other is a different story, and since it is the story of agood man, a good car, and a pretty woman, there's no reason why LalBritten should not put his pen to it. 

Well, I was driving for an English company at that time, the Vezey theycalled themselves, though Wheezy would have been the better name. Sucha box of tricks I do believe was never put upon a chassis before orsince. It took two of us to start the engine in the morning, and thesame number to persuade her to leave off firing at night. The worksmanager, Mr. Nathan, whose Christian name was Abraham, said that she'ddone eighty miles an hour with him easily; but the only time I got herover fifty she broke her differential by way of an argument, andnothing but a soft place in a hayfield saved me from the hospital. Allof which, of course, was good advertisement for the firm--and, truly, if it came to making a noise in the world, why, you could hear theircar a good quarter of a mile away. 

This was the flier I took over to France and tried to break in upon thefine roads we all know so well. As I finished the race almost before Ibegan it, the less said about the affair the better--but I shall neverforget that Paris to Vienna meeting, and I shall never forget itbecause of my friend Ferdinand, [1] one of the best and bravest who everturned a wheel, and the right winner of that great prize, but for thewoman who said "No, " and said it so queerly and to such effect that amagician out of the story-books couldn't have done it better. 

I liked Ferdinand, liked him from the start. A better figure of a manI shall never see; six feet to an inch, square set and wonderfullymuscular. His hair was dark and ridiculously curly, so much so thattalk of the "irons and brown paper" was the standing joke amongst theracing men in Paris, who knew no more of him than that he was anItalian by birth and had spent half his life in America. For the rest, he spoke English as well as I did, and I never knew whether Ferdinandwas his real name, or one he took for the racecourse--nor did I care. 

They say that there is no cloud without a silver lining--a poorconsolation in a thunderstorm when your hood is at home and the nearesttree is three miles away. There had been a thunderstorm, I remember, on the morning I met poor Ferdinand, and my batteries had refused tohand out another volt, notwithstanding the plainest kind of speech inwhich I could address them. Just in the middle of it, when the rainwas running in at the neck and out at the ankles, and I was askingmyself why I wasn't a footman in yellow plush breeches, what shouldhappen but that a great red car came loping up on the horizon, likesome mad thing answering to the lightning's call--and no sooner was ita mile distant than it was by me, so to speak, and I was listening tomy friend Ferdinand for the first time. 

"Halloa, and what's taken your fancy in these parts?" he asked in acheery voice. I told him as plainly. 

"This musical box don't like the thunder, " said I; "she's turned sour. "

"Are you stopping here for the lady, or do you want to get back toParis?"

"Oh, " says I, "I haven't taken a lease of this particular furlong, ifthat's what you mean. "

"Then I'll give you a tow, " says he, and without another word, he gotdown from his seat and began to make a job of it. We were at Vendreuxhalf an hour afterwards, and there we breakfasted together in theFrench fashion. That meal, I always say, was the luckiest friendFerdinand ever ate. 

He told me a lot about himself and a lot about his car; how he had beeneverything in America, from log-roller in the backwoods to cook in theFifth Avenue palaces; how he met Herr Jornek, the designer of theModena car, on a trip to St. John's to explore Grand River, and how hehad come back to Europe to drive it in the big race. His luck, hesaid, had been out in New York because of a woman; to get far away fromthat particular lady was the inducement which carried him to Europe. 

Here was something to awaken my curiosity, as you may well imagine, andI asked him all sorts of questions about the girl; but to no goodpurpose. His interest was in the car, one of the first made by thefamous Herr Jornek, and called the Modena after the factory in thattown. He told me it was unlike any car on the market, and that newfeatures of gearbox, ignition, and engine design would certainly stampit a winner if no bad luck overtook him. This persistent talk aboutmisfortune set me wondering, and I fell to questioning him a littlemore closely about his story, and especially that part of it whichconcerned the woman. 

"Who is the lady, and how did she interfere with you?" I asked. Hewould say no more than that he had known her by half a dozen names overin America, and that she was formerly a dancer at the old CasinoTheatre in New York. 

"She's done everything, " he said: "gone up in balloons, ridden horsesastride at Maddison Square Gardens, played the cowboys' show withBuffalo Bill, and sailed an iceboat on the Great Lakes. Whenever she'sout to win I'm out to lose. Make what you like of it, it's Gospeltruth. As certain as I'm up for one of the big prizes of my life, thegirl's there to thwart me. If I were what my schoolmaster used to calla fatalist, I'd say she was the evil prophetess who used to play ducksand drakes with the soldier boys at Athens. But I don't believeanything of the sort--I say it's just sheer bad luck, and that womanstands for the figure of it. "

I was troubled to hear him, and put many more questions. How did thegirl thwart him? Was it just an idea, or had he something better to goupon? He did not know what to say; I could see it troubled him verymuch to speak of it. 

"She puts it into my head that I shall lose, and lose I do, " he said;"it's always been the same, and always will be. When I rode that greatleaping horse, Desmond, and put him over the fences, she was in thearena with a bronco, and she just looked up to me as sweetly as achild, and said, "Ferdy, your horse is going to fall next time, " andfall, sure enough, he did, and laid me on my bed for more than a month. After that I rode the bicycle match against the Frenchman, Devereux, and there she was, dressed like a picture amongst the crowd, andsmiling like an angel in the Spanish churches. When I nodded to hershe called me back a moment, and just put in her pretty word. 

"Ferdy, " she said, "that Frenchman can't ride straight; he's going torun into you, Ferdy. " Will you believe it, we cannoned together at thelast corner, and I was thrown so badly that although he walked hismachine in I couldn't beat him. "

He was serious enough about it all, and I must say that his talk putsome queer ideas into my head. I've never been a believer over-much inluck myself, holding that we make it or mar it for ourselves, and thatwhat some call misfortune is nothing more or less than misdoing; buthere was a tale to make a man think, and think I did while he ate hisbreakfast and went on to speak of his car almost as lovingly as a manspeaks of the new girl he met for the first time yesterday. Just as wewere leaving the hotel and he was getting back to his doleful manner abit, I put in my word and I could see that he took it well enough. 

"All said and done, " said I, "there's a little matter of three thousandmiles between you and the lady just at present. Whatever may havehappened over yonder is hardly likely to happen in La Belle France, look at it how you like. You should think no more about it, Ferdinand. You're to win this great race, and win it you certainly will if I'm ajudge. Why, then, think about a woman at all?"

"Because, " he replied, and he was as grave as a judge at the moment, "because I must; I've been thinking of her ever since I picked you up. It's queer, Britten, but I do believe you're going to bring me luck, and that's as true as Gospel. "

"And true it shall be, " said I, "if good wishes can do it, my boy. Let's go and get the cars. My box of tricks will be melted down if Ileave it in the sun any longer. Let's get back to Paris and have somefun; I'm sure that's what you're wanting. "

He did not object; and the storm having passed, and my coil behavingitself properly now that the damp was off the contacts, we jogged alongthe road to Paris in company with many who were returning from theirmorning practice, and just a few amateurs out to see the fun. We hadgone a mile, I suppose, when we met a girl driving one of the De Dionmotor tricycles, and no sooner had I seen her than she went by with aflash and a nod; and I knew her for little Maisa Hubbard, of whom thetown had been talking for three days past. Then I ran my car alongsideFerdinand's just to make a remark about it--but, will you believeme?--he was as pale as a sheet, and his eyes were staring right intovacancy, as though a ghost stood in his path, and he didn't know how toget by it. 

"Why, " cried I, "and what's up now?"

He brought himself to with an effort, closed his hand about the wheel, and then answered me:

"That's the girl, right enough, " he said; "you saw her for yourself. "

"Oh, look here, I can't take that. Don't you know Maisa Hubbard, whodrove the big Panhard last autumn?"

"I know Maisa Hubbard who used to dance at the Casino Theatre in NewYork, and she's the same. Didn't I tell you she'd follow me to France?"

"You told me a lot of things, " I retorted; "perhaps you dreamed some ofthem. "

"Perhaps I did, " he answered, and then I was sorry I had spoken, forhis face was as sad as a woman's in sorrow, and just as pitiful. 

"You want cheering up, my boy, " said I; "wait till we get back toParis, and I'll take you in hand myself. It's over-driving that's doneit; I've known the kind of thing, and can understand what you feel; butyou wait a bit, and then we'll see. Didn't you say I was going tobring you luck?"

"I did, but not while Maisa Hubbard's in France. There's no man borncould do it. "

He was down enough about it, I must say, and a more melancholy drivernever steered a car into Champigny--the place where the great race wasto start from, and our destination for the time being. When we haddone the necessary tuning up and had cleaned ourselves, I tookFerdinand back to Paris, and gave him a bit of dinner at a littlerestaurant near the Faubourg St. -Honoré. 

When we had eaten five shillings' worth for three-and-sixpence, anddrunk a good bottle of sour red wine apiece, I took him round to"Olympia, " and there we saw the famous show they called the "Man in theMoon. " This didn't cheer him up at all, and once during the evening hetold me that he thought he'd soon be in the moon himself, or any placewhere they have a job for damaged racing drivers. This made me laughat him, but laughing wasn't any good, and I had it in my mind to takehim off to supper at a little place I knew on the Boulevards, when whatshould happen but that Maisa Hubbard appeared suddenly in the promenadewhere we stood, and immediately came up to him with such a smile asmight have brought a saint out of a picture to say "Good evening" toher. 

"Why, it's Ferdy!" she cried, "and he's trying to turn his back on me. Oh, my dear boy, whatever do you look like that for?"

He shook hands with her quite civilly, and made some excuse about theshow and his not feeling very funny about it. She had another girlwith her, and her brother, Jerome Hubbard, the "whip" who used to drivewith Mr. Fownes. When I had been introduced, she asked me to come tosupper at a place I'd never heard of, and declared that her brotherwould have a fit if we didn't disburse some of his savings immediately. The little girl who was with her (I shan't write her name down) was alively bit of goods, and I was ready enough to go if only to cheer up"Ferdy, " who, to be sure, had become a different man already, and wastalking and laughing with Maisa just as though they had been first"cousins" for a twelvemonth or more. In the end we ate Mr. Jerome'ssupper, and got back to our little beds at two in the morning: not anover-good preparation for a great race, as any driver will admit; butmy friend seemed himself again, and I would have eaten half a dozensuppers to bring that about. 

This was two days before the meeting, I should tell you, and I sawlittle of Ferdinand until that memorable June morning, when, athalf-past three precisely, Girardot got away on his C. G. V. , and wasfollowed two minutes later by Fournier on his Mors. I have taken partin many a big race since, but never one which excited me more than thatfamous dash from Paris to Vienna, which was to make the fortune of morethan one English house, and to bring the Gordon Bennett Cup to Englandfor the first time in the motor story. 

I firmly believed my friend Ferdinand was to win the race, andpresentiment goes farther in this world than many folks think. Such adashing, daring driver I never saw. His car was a wonder. I tookseveral trips with him before the race, and I do believe that we madeeighty or ninety miles an hour upon her--a miracle for those days, though not thought so much of in this year 1909. What was more, heseemed to have forgotten all about that little devil of a Maisa Hubbardand her prophecies, and when we breakfasted together upon the morningof the start I would have said that he was fit to race for his life. 

And what a start it was, notwithstanding the hour! What a roaring andracing of engines, cars tearing here and tearing there, gendarmeseverywhere, men with silver on their heads and silver on their toes;jabbering officials telling you to do twenty things at once, andquarrelling because you did them. The enclosure itself was like themeat-market at Smithfield on a busy morning. I never heard so muchnoise in any one place before; and if there was a man, woman, or childwho slept through it in the peaceful village of Champigny, well, he, she, or it ought to go into a museum. 

Of course, all this was exciting enough, and I caught something of thefever when twenty soldiers pushed my old rattle-trap into the roadway, and a very fine gentleman gave the signal to "Go. " Upon my word, I dobelieve there was just a moment when I thought I could get to Viennabefore the others; and, letting my clutch in gently, and telling Billy, my mechanician, to make himself fast, I soon had her upon third speed, and was racing as fast as the bad road would let me towards Provins. This was a bumpy bit, to be sure, and if I had put her on the "fourth, "some one would have had to sweep up the pieces quickly. But I kept hersteady, though the great cars began to go by like roaring locomotiveson a down incline, and really she was doing very well when the offsidefront tyre asked for a change of air, and we knew that it was No. 1, sofar as punctures were concerned. 

Well, this was twenty miles from Provins, upon a long and desolatestretch of a poor road, with a distant view of the hills and a coupleof sleepy peasants out among the hay. We had been lucky with our draw, and started early in the list, and you can imagine my surprise when acar flashed into view and I recognised Ferdinand, who was almost thelast to get off, and must have passed any number of cars to overtake usas he did. My word, and he was driving, too! His great machinefrightened you to watch it, leaping over the bumps as it did, andthreatening every moment to be flung sheer off the road into thehayfield on the other side of the dyke. But there was a master at thewheel, and with a cheery wave of the hand to us Ferdinand went by, andwas lost immediately in a mighty cloud of dust which rose clear abovethe poplars. 

I need hardly tell you how glad I was to see him doing so well, and howI laughed at all his foolish ideas about Maisa Hubbard. Win I felt hewould, though all the ladies of the Casino ballet came out to tell himnot to; and when old Dobbin, my own particular turn-out, condescendedto move again, I pushed on for Belfort, no longer deluding myself thatI was to be within a hundred miles of the winner, but hoping that Ishould get to Vienna in time to shake "Ferdy" by the hand and to tellhim what a fool he had been. 

If I didn't say this at Belfort, where Herr Jornek, the designer of thecar, stood in between us and took Ferdy away for the evening to talk tohim, it was well enough said at Brigenz. There a second halt was made;and although we turned in at an early hour, I had plenty of time to putthe idea of winning into his head, and the idea of Maisa Hubbard out ofit. All the world knows that we had to go through France, Switzerland, Germany, and Austria for that big race, and the Swiss part was slowenough, since no racing was allowed by the timid old gentlemen at thecapital. Indeed, if there is one country in Europe a motorist doeswell to keep out of at any time, it is Switzerland. We simply rolledthrough the place on that particular journey, and at Brigenz my friendFerdinand was high up in the list, none but De Knyff, Jarrott, and theFarmans being ahead of him. I told him that if he got over the ArlbergMountains as his car ought to get, he was winner for a certainty. Andthat was the point we stuck to until it was time to turn into ourlittle beds and dream about to-morrow. 

"I hear that the devil himself might be frightened to drive across thatpass at any speed, " said I, "and there's your chance, Ferdy. You sayit will be the making of you to win this race. Well, you give yourmind to it, and don't shirk the risks, and you're as good as a winneralready. There isn't a car in the bunch can hold you on the mountains, and you know it. "

"You're right, " said he, "and I wish I could say the same to you. ButLal, my boy, it isn't exactly a war-horse that you've got under you, and I can't say it is. I'm not frightened of the mountains, and canbreak my neck as well as most; don't think otherwise. If my luckholds, Lal Britten has fixed it up, and I shan't forget him when theshekels are paid out. You may think me a bit dotty, but this I willsay, that I never felt so sure of myself or of the car as I do thisnight, and if confidence and a good engine won't win across theArlberg, then we'll give it up, Lal, and take to perambulators. "

"Not meaning any reference to the lady, " said I; but his face clouded, and I wished I hadn't spoken. 

"She's in Paris, and thank God for it, " he exclaimed, rising to go upto bed; "if she were here in Brigenz to-night, I wouldn't give sixpencefor my chances, and that's the whole truth. Now, let's go to by-by; ifwe don't, I'll be dreaming of her, and dreams won't win laurel-wreaths, as even you will admit. "

I let him go, and followed some ten minutes later to my own room. Itwas just cussedness, I suppose, which kept me back, for, as I wentacross the corridor of the first floor of our hotel I heard a womanwith a laugh which struck sparks off you; and turning round, there wasMaisa Hubbard herself in a fine Paris gown and a great straw hat, witha pink feather in it large enough to decorate the Shah. She just gavea pleasant nod to me and then went downstairs, while I made for mybedroom, wondering what Ferdy would have said if he had seen her, andwhat real bad luck brought her to Brigenz at such a time. 

Of course, she had come on by train. Lots of people did, to follow theracing; and here she was with a merry party, just as simple-looking andas guileless as a shepherdess at the Vic, and looking no older than aschool-girl. When I got up at four next morning I was full ofcuriosity to know if Ferdy had seen her. But he was out at his car inthe "control, " cheerful enough as far as he himself was concerned, butmighty anxious about his mechanician, Down, who had broken his armtrying to start up the engine, and had already been taken to thehospital. A minute later I heard that our old wheezer wouldn't startat all, and there it was, as though a special Providence had ordered it. 

"You can't move your own char-à-banc--the crank-shaft's broken, "Ferdinand said to me, as he asked me for the tenth time to get upbeside him; "I've got no one, and I'm going to win this race. If youcould conjure up a new crankshaft out of nothing, you would still bethree behind the last in, and all the town out to laugh at you. Getup, Lal, and have done with it. I tell you I knew it from the first. "

Well, I stared at this: and having just a word with my mechanicianBilly, and being quite sure that the Vezey, however good she was atgoing back on me, wouldn't go forward that day or for some days tocome, I left instructions for telegrams to be sent to England, and wasup beside Ferdinand without further ado. 

I have told you that he stood already high in the list, and so you willunderstand that we hadn't long to wait for the word "Go!" Before thatcould be given, however, and while the car was still in the "control, "who should come up to us but Maisa Hubbard herself; and, will youbelieve it, I felt all my confidence, both in man and car, oozing outof my finger-tips, just like water running out of a tap. How or whythat should have been I am not the man to say; but there was the fact, that this pretty woman could work this magic upon me just by a look outof her sly eyes, and could do worse to my friend Ferdinand, as Iplainly perceived. As for that poor chap, he turned as white as aghost directly he saw her, and I really thought he would never be ableto start the car at all. 

"Oh, my dear boy, I have been looking for you everywhere, " cried she, offering him a little bunch of red roses, just as though she loved himdearly. "Now, won't you take these for luck? I'm sure you'll wantluck to-day, Ferdy. Do you know, I dreamed about you last night?"

He said "Yes, " and laid the flowers on the seat beside him. I couldsee him licking his lips as though his mouth were dry, and presently heasked her a question. 

"What did you dream, Maisa?"

She shook her head and began the play-actress style. 

"Oh, I guess I wouldn't tell you, anyway. "

"But I want to know, Maisa?"

"It was only a dream, of course--aren't they real sometimes, Ferdy?Why, I saw you drive your car over the side of the mountain, just asplainly as ever I saw anything in my life. "

He laughed quietly, looking at me with a look I shall never forget. 

"You're quite a wonder at dreaming, Maisa. Suppose I disappoint youthis time?"

"Don't be foolish, Ferdy--you shouldn't have asked me to tell you. Why, you're too clever to be such a silly, and you know it. Good-byeand good luck. I shall see you in Vienna. "

He just nodded his head and let in his clutch with such a bang that henearly threw me over the dash. I could see that his nerve had gone tothe winds with the woman's words, and if wishes could have repaid her, she'd have got something for her pains, I do assure you. As it was, Icould do nothing but pretend to laugh at it, and that I did to the bestof my ability. 

"Dreams go by contraries, " said I; "any child knows that. "

"She didn't dream it at all, " was his answer; "she said it out ofspite. "

"Why should she be spiteful----?"

"You ask the man and his master. She's out for another car to win, andwill spoil my chances if she can. "

"More fool you, then, to listen to her. Make up your mind to forgetit. You can do it if you try. "

"Ah, " he said, and upon my word I was sorry for him, "that girl's goingto be my ruin, Lal, as sure as we're on this car. "

"You speak like a coward, Ferdy--didn't you say I brought you luck----"

"And you shall--I'll try to believe, Lal--I've thought it from thestart. If it wasn't for her----"

"Oh, be d----d to her, " said I; and that I really meant. 

We were on the starting line as these words were spoken, and in twominutes we got the word to go, and the great Modena car rushed awaylike some giant bird upon the wing. This was the crucial stage of thatfamous race, when we had to climb the Arlberg Mountains and drop downto Innsbruck. It was the day which saw Edge the proud winner of theGordon Bennett Cup, and the morning upon which Jarrott broke up hisbedroom furniture to stiffen the frame of his 70-h. P. Panhard. Our carwas not in for the Gordon Bennett, and our race did not finish atInnsbruck, but at far Vienna--that is, if we crossed the terribleArlberg Mountains safely, and got down the other side with our headsstill upon our shoulders. This depended upon my friend Ferdinand, thegreatest driver that ever lived upon an ordinary day, but a mad devilthat morning if ever there was one. 

Oh! you could see it from the start. That woman's words had enteredinto his very soul, and he did not deny that he believed his hour hadcome. We were early away, and the two big cars ahead of us we caughtalmost in the first hour. When we came to the mountain we began toclimb as though a magic wind was lifting us. Grand as the scene was, with the mighty mountains towering above us and the valley full ofwonders spreading out below, I had eyes for nothing but the windingroad, nor thoughts of any goal but that of distant Innsbruck, where thedanger would be passed. Sometimes I wished that Ferdinand would changeseats with me and let me drive. No woman that ever was born wouldfrighten me, I thought, and yet I could not be sure even about that. The words that were spoken in the "control" went echoing in my head. "We were going over the mountain-side. " Good God, if it were true!

The climb up the Arlberg Mountains is a wonderful thing, but I wouldhave you know that it is child's play to the drop down on the otherside. Imagine a series of fearful zigzags with a sheer wall of rock onone side, and on the other a precipice just as sheer, and so open andundefended that some fellows in this race were driven almost mad withterror at the bare sight of it. Luckily for me, I sat upon theleft-hand side of the car and could see very little of what was goingon; but I knew that our off-side front wheel was within two inches ofthe edge more than once as we went up; and when we passed over the topand began the descent I could have sworn that even Ferdinand himselfhad lost all hope of getting down safely. 

Once, I remember, he gave a great cry, and shot the car over to theinside with such a twist that our wheels scraped the very rock; therewere moments when he came to a stand altogether, and passed his handover his eyes as though he could not see clearly. By here and there Ithought he drove like a madman, swooping round a fearful corner withour wheels over the very chasm, or dashing down a straight as thoughnothing could save him at the bottom. If I called out at this andimplored him not to be a fool, he answered back that "What was to be, would be"; and then he mentioned Maisa's name, and I knew he had notforgotten. 

Well, as many know, the end came at that great dome of rock which looksfor all the world like St. Paul's Cathedral. I confess that I shouldhave been no wiser here than Ferdinand. We seemed to be following agentle curve round the dome, with the rock upon our left hand, and thevalley three thousand feet down upon our right. There was nothing totell us of the danger trap; and, thinking he had a clear road, Ferdinand opened his throttle and we shot ahead like a shell from agun. Less than a second afterwards I had made a wild leap from myseat--and Ferdinand, without a cry or a sound, had gone headlong to thevalley below. 

I suppose five good minutes must have passed before I knew anything atall, either of the nature of this awful accident or of the good luckwhich attended my leap. Lying there on my back, I became consciouspresently that I was in a thick scrub of gorse, which lined the roadhereabouts. It had caught me just as a spider's web catches a fly. Iached intolerably, that is true--my whole body seemed numbed, as thoughit had been hit with irons, while my leather clothes were torn to rags. But, by-and-by, it came to me that I could get up if I chose, and whenI looked below me and saw the sheer precipice, and that nothing but abush stood between me and it, you may be sure I scrambled back to theroad quicker than a man counts two. And there I lay, trying toremember what had happened, and what my duty called upon me to do. 

Ferdy and the car! Good God, what had happened to them? The sweatpoured off me like rain when the truth came back. Ferdy was overthere, down that awful precipice. Quaking in every limb, I draggedmyself to the edge and looked over. Yes, I could see the car, lookinglike a little toy thing, far down in the valley. It lay wheelsupwards, in what appeared to be a little brook or river; but of mycomrade not a sign anywhere. In vain I shouted his name again andagain. The cars began to pass me, and, warned by my presence, theytook that awful corner safely; but not a man of their drivers guessedthat a good fellow had gone over, and that I was half mad because ofit. Away they went, with a nod and a shout, leaving that cold silenceof the mountains behind them, and Lal Britten crying like a womanbecause they didn't stay. In the end I ceased to think of them at all, and, going to the brink again, I shouted "Ferdinand" until the hillsrang. 

 * * * * *

He answered me--as I am a living man--Ferdinand answered me at last. At first I could believe so little in the truth of what I heard that Ialmost thought the mountains were mocking me and sending my voice backin echoes. Then I understood that it was not so at all, but that myfriend really called to me from a place thirty or forty yards down theroad, where the scrub was thicker. It was the spot where our tank andtool-box, cast ahead as the car swerved and went over, lay shattered onthe rocks. These I hardly noticed at the moment; but, dashing to theplace, I threw myself flat on my face and hung right over the precipiceto answer my comrade. And then, in an instant I knew what hadhappened--then I understood. 

The car, I say, had swerved away to the right as she took theprecipice. The tremendous force of it not only sent all our looseimpedimenta flying down the road, which turned to the left, but itthrew Ferdinand sideways; and, although he had gone over, he fell, asthe newspapers have told you, just where the sheer wall bulged; andhere, holding for dear life to the shrubs, he waited for me to savehim. Such a torture I have never known, or shall know again. Thesight of my friend, not ten feet away from me, the precipice forbiddingme to go down, for it was quite sheer at the top; his white face, hisdesperate hold at the scrappy shrubs--oh, you can't imagine or think ofthe truth of it as I had to upon that awful morning. 

"How long can you hold on?" I asked him, clenching my teeth when I hadspoken. 

"Perhaps a minute, perhaps two. If you could get a rope, Lal----"

"I'll stop a car, " said I--a madder thing was never said, but I had tosay something--"I'll stop a car and make them help me. Perhaps myshirt will do it, Ferdy. "

"Good-bye if it doesn't, " he said quite quietly; and I knew then thathe was prepared for death, and had expected it; but I was already busywith my shirt, tearing it up with twitching fingers, when he spokeagain. 

"Pity we haven't got the rope I towed you with the other day, " he saidsuddenly; and at that I started up as though he had hit me. 

"The rope--where did you carry it?"

"It was in the tool-box, " he answered, still quite calm. 

I think I shouted out at that--I know I was crying like a woman aminute afterwards. The tool-box! Why, it lay there, against the rock, before my very nose, the d----d fool! And the very rope which hadfirst brought our friendship about: was it accident or destiny whichput it into my hands, and did Ferdinand do right or wrong to say Ibrought him luck?

I shan't answer these questions--for he was sitting beside me less thantwo minutes afterwards, and we were hugging each other like brothers. 

 * * * * *

Maisa Hubbard's friend didn't get first to Vienna, and pleased enough Iwas. Whether Ferdy just imagined that she had an evil influence overhim, or whether it is true that some women are the mistresses of men'sdestiny, I don't pretend to say. The story is there to speak foritself. 

And Maisa, I may add, is in the halfpenny papers. Do you remember thatfamous case of Lord--but perhaps it isn't my place to speak about that?

[1] The names of the driver, Ferdinand, and the car, the Modena, havebeen substituted by the Editor for those in Mr. Britten's ownnarrative. The reasons for this will be obvious to the reader. 

V

THE BASKET IN THE BOUNDARY ROAD

The doctors will tell you sometimes that motoring is good for thenerves; and since so many of them now buy cars, and there's no man likea doctor for looking after his own flesh and blood, I suppose they meanwhat they say. All the same, I wish I'd had a doctor with me the nightI picked up Mabel Bellamy; for if his nerves had stood that and hehadn't given himself quinine and iron for the next two months, why, I'dhave paid his fee myself. 

You see, it was a rum job from the very beginning of it. I was workingfor Hook-Nosed Moss at the time, and, being Lent, and half thetheatrical ladies of position doing penance down at Monte Carlo, weweren't exactly knocking a hole in the Bank of England--nor, for thatmatter, even earning our fares to Jerusalem. Moss came down to thegarage in the West End gloomier and gloomier every day; and one morningwhen I saw that he'd pawned his diamond shirt-stud (the same that wecalled "The Bleriot"), why then, says I, Lal Britten, keep off theStock Exchange and don't put your last thirty bob in Consols, whereverelse you place it. 

Now this was the state of things when one morning, early in the monthof March last year, we were rung up from a public telephone call inBayswater, and the covered Napier was ordered for a house in theRichmond Road, Bayswater--a locality with which I was unfamiliar, butwhich Moss declared must be all right, since the gentleman who livedthere knew that we had a Napier car and therefore was in a mannerintroduced to us. Half an hour later he discovered that Richmond Roadwas nothing better than a mean street of lodging-houses, and, my word, didn't he reel off his instructions to me like texts out of a copy-book. 

"Dot's a shame, Britten, " he said, coming round by the bonnet of thecar, which I was tuning up for the trip--"I was deceived by the dabe ofthe street. We must have our modey before they have the goods. Mindthat now, you dote drive a mile unless they pay the shinies. Threeguideas id your pocket and then you drive 'em. Are you listening, Britten?"

I managed to give him a squirt of oil out of my can--for we do loveMoss, and then I told him that Nelson on the quarter-deck of the_Victory_ wasn't more alive to his duties. 

"Three guineas cash down and then I drive 'em. Is this a round trip tosee the beauties of Surrey, Mr. Moss, or do I return to my little cotafter the ball is over? I'd like to know on account of taking my Courtsuit, if you don't mind. "

"Oh, " says he, "you're ordered for ded o'clock, so I suppose id's thelight fadastic toe, Britten. But mide you get your modey--or I'll stopyour salary, sure. Three guideas and what you cad hook for yourself--Ishan't touch that, Britten--I dow how to treat my servants well. "

I laughed at this, but didn't say too much for fear he should find outthat he'd got a patch of oil as big as a football on the back of hisbeautiful new spring suit, and when he had told me that the party'sname was Faulkland Jones and had given me the number of the house, Igot on with my work again and soon had the three-year-old Napierrunning as well as ever she did in all her life. Nor did anything elsehappen until ten o'clock that night, at which hour precisely I droveher up to the house in the Richmond Road, Bayswater, and sent a smallboy to knock at the door. 

It was a twopenny-ha'penny shop, and no doubt about it; a two-storiedday-before-yesterday lodging-house, with a bow window like aMétallurgique bonnet and a door about as big as the top of yourgear-box. 

So far as I could see from the road there was only one lamp showing inthe place, and that was on the off-side, so to speak, in a littlewindow of a bedroom--but the boy said afterwards that there was a glimin the hall, and he was old enough to have known. Taken altogether, you wouldn't have offered them thirty pounds a year for the lot unlessyou had been a Rothschild with a cook to pension off--and what suchpeople wanted with a Napier limousine at three guineas the job I reallycould not have said. This, however, was no business of mine; so I justgave the lad a penny and settled myself down in my seat until theDuchess in the apron should appear. 

It wasn't a long time I had to wait, perhaps five minutes, perhaps ten. I told the police, when they questioned me afterwards, to split thedifference, for none but a policeman could have told you what it hadgot to do with my story. When the door did open at last, a couple ofmen carrying a basket came down the bit of a garden, and the first ofthem wished me "Good evening" very civilly. Then they let the basketdown softly on to the pavement and began to talk to me about it. 

"How strong's your roof?" asked the first, speaking with a nasal twangI couldn't quite place. "Will it take this bit of a basket all right?"

"Why, " says I, "it might depend on what you've got inside that same. Have I come for the washing, or do I drive your plate to the Bank ofEngland?"

The second, the taller man of the two, laughed at this; but the firstseemed very uneasy, and it was not lost upon me that he glanced to theright and the left of him as though afraid that someone would come upand hear what his friend had to say next. 

"I guess it's neither one nor the other, " the first speaker went on. "We're playing theatricals at the Hampstead Town Hall to-morrow night, and these are the dresses. We want you to take them up to the BoundaryRoad, St. John's Wood--I'll show you the house when we get there; butit's called Bredfield, and you'll know it by a square-toed lamp upagainst the side-track. Perhaps you can give us a hand with thebaggage--and say, have you any objection to gold when you can't getsilver?"

He passed up a sovereign and I put it inside my glove. Moss had toldme to collect the shekels before I drove them a mile, and so I told thepair of them as I was getting down the luggage ladder, whichfortunately I had brought, not knowing the job. A bit to my surprisethey paid up immediately, but I made no remark about that; and when Ihad signed the receipt by the light of my near-side lamp, I helped themup with the basket and soon had it strapped to the rails in a way thatsatisfied even the nervous little man with the saucer eyes. 

Many have asked me if I had no suspicions about that basket, was notcurious as to its contents, and remarked nothing as we hoisted it up. To these I say that the men themselves were the chief actors in thebusiness; that they lifted the baggage from the pavement, and that mytask was chiefly to guide it to the rails and to make it fast when Ihad got it there. Otherwise, this basket was no different from anydress-basket you may see upon half a dozen four-wheelers the first timeyou look in at a railway station; and I should be telling an untruth ifI said that I thought about it at all. Indeed, it was not until we gotto the Boundary Road, and I stopped at the house called Bredfield, thatso much as a notion of anything wrong entered my head. There, however, I did get a shock, and no mistake; for no sooner had I pulled up than Idiscovered that I had come on alone, and that neither the big man withthe Yankee accent nor the little man with the saucer eyes had deignedto accompany me. 

Well, I got down from the driver's seat, opened and shut the door asthough to be sure that neither the one nor the other was hiding underthe seat, and then I rang loudly at the front door bell and waited tosee what fortune had got in her lucky-bag. 

Had the men told me plainly that I was to go alone, I should never havegiven the matter a second thought; but I could have sworn that the pairof them were inside the limousine when I started away from the RichmondRoad, and how or where they got down I knew no more than the LordChancellor. It remained to be seen if the people in the house were anywiser; and you may be sure that I was curious enough by this time, and, if the truth must be told, not a little frightened. 

Boundary Road, as many will know, is a quiet thoroughfare in St. John'sWood, most of the houses being detached, and many of them having twentyfeet of garden back and front. This particular house was larger thanordinary, and owned an odd iron lamp fixed above the garden gate andconspicuous a hundred yards away. Unlike the shanty in the RichmondRoad, nearly every window showed a bright light; and I don't suppose Ihad waited twenty seconds, though they seemed like a quarter of anhour, when the front door flew open and one of the prettiestparlourmaids I have ever clapped eyes upon came running down the path, and asked, even before she had opened the gate, if the lady had arrived. 

"Why, " says I, quickly enough, "that she certainly has not, being tookto dine with the Grand Duke Isaac at the Metropolitan Music Hall. Buther dresses are here, miss, and if you like to try on any of 'em beforeshe arrives, why, you're welcome so far as I am concerned. "

She laughed at this and came out on to the pavement. I have said shewas pretty, but that's hardly the word for it. If she went on theGaiety stage to-morrow, she'd be the talk of the town in afortnight--and as for her manners, well, it isn't my place to remark onthose. Affability appeals to me wherever I find it, and if BetsyChambers isn't affable, then I don't know the meaning of the term. 

"Where have you come from?" she asked me as we stood there; "have youcome from Scotland?"

"More like from Scotland Yard in these times, " says I; "why should youask me that?"

"Because the gentleman said that his wife would be arriving fromScotland to-night, but that he would not be here until to-morrow. Iwouldn't have stopped in the house for anything if he had not said shewas coming!"

"Then you're alone, my dear?"

She tossed her head. 

"Yes, I am, and that's why all the lamps are lighted. "

"Why, to be sure, " cried I, "there might have been a man under thebed;" but she was too polite to notice this, and I could see she wasvery much afraid of sleeping alone in that strange house, and I don'twonder at it. 

"I can walk up and down the front garden all night, if you like, " saidI, "or maybe I could sleep on the drawing-room sofa, if you prefer it. Is this the first time they have left you alone here?"

She looked at me in surprise. 

"I was only engaged yesterday from the registry office in Marylebone. This is a furnished house, and they have taken it for three monthscertain. The gentleman comes from Edinburgh and the lady is anAmerican. They haven't got a cook yet, but hope to have one byto-morrow. Whatever shall I do if they never come at all?"

"Oh, " says I, "try on her dresses and see how they suit you. Supposewe get the basket in to begin with. Here's a chap coming who looks asthough he could lay out sixpence if he hadn't got a shilling; we'llenlist him and then talk about supper afterwards. Is your name Susan, by the way? The last nice girl I met was called Susan, and so Ithought----"

"Oh, don't be silly, " says she; "my name's Betsy, and if you squeeze myhand like that, some one will see you. "

I told her it must have been done in a moment of abstraction, and thenI hailed the "cab runner" who was loafing down the road; and, what withhim and a messenger boy in a hurry, we got the basket down and liftedit into a big square hall and laid it almost at the foot of thestaircase, up which we should have to carry it presently. 

Somehow or other it seemed to me over-heavy for a clothes' basket; butI said nothing about it at the time, and, telling Betsy I would returnin a minute, I went back to my car to turn off the petrol and see thatall was shipshape. When I entered the house again, and almost as soonas I had shut the door, the queerest thing I can remember happened tome. It was nothing less than this--that the girl, Betsy, came towardme with her face as white as a sheet; and, before I could utter asingle word or ask her the ghost of a question, she just slippedheadlong through my arms and lay like a dead thing. 

Now, this was a nice position to be in and no mistake about it. Thegirl limp and helpless in my arms, not a soul in the house, me notknowing where to lay hands on a drop of brandy, to say nothing of aglass of water, and, above all, the peculiar feeling that something notover-pleasant must have frightened Betsy, and that it might frighten mebefore many minutes had passed. Listening intently, I could not atfirst hear a sound in all the house--but just when I was telling myselfnot to be a fool, I heard, as plainly as ever I heard anything in mylife, a sigh as of some one groaning in pain; and at that I do believeI dropped the girl clean on to the floor and made a dash into thenearest room in a state of mind I should have been ashamed to confesseven to my own brother. 

What did it mean, who was playing tricks with us, and what was themystery? I looked round the apartment and made it out to be thedining-room, plainly furnished, well lighted, but as empty of people asWestminster Abbey at twelve o'clock of a Sunday night. A smaller roomto the right lay in darkness, but I found the switch and satisfiedmyself in a moment that no one was hidden there; nor did a search inevery nook and cranny near by enlighten me further. What was evenworse was the fact that I could now hear the groaning very plainly; andwhen I had stood a minute, with my heart beating like a steam pump andmy eyes half blinded with the shadows and the light, I discovered, justin a flash, that whoever groaned was not in any room of the house, neither in the hall nor upon the staircase, but in the very basket Ihad just laid down and should have carried to the floor above beforemany minutes had passed. 

I am not going to state here precisely what I thought or did when Imade that astonishing discovery, or just what I felt at the moment whenI tried to understand its significance. Perhaps I could not rememberhalf that happened even if I tried to do so. My clearest memory is ofa dark, silent street, and of me standing there, bare-headed, with afainting girl in my arms, and a civil old chap with white whiskersasking again and again, "My good fellow, whatever is the matter andwhat on earth are you doing here?" When I answered him it was to beghim for God's sake to tell me the name of the nearest doctor--and atthat I remember he simply pointed to the house opposite and to a brassplate upon its door. 

"I am Mr. Harrison, the surgeon, " he said quickly; "I am just buying amotor, and so I crossed the road to look at yours. Tell me what hashappened and what is the matter with the woman. "

I told him as quietly as I could. 

"God knows what it is--perhaps murder. The girl heard it and fainted. She'll be all right in a minute if I can lay her down. I never thoughtany woman weighed half as much. Anyway, she's coming to and that'ssomething--if you could call a policeman, sir. "

He was a self-possessed gentleman, I must say, and, looking up and downthe street, while I set the girl down on the footboard of the car, heespied the little messenger boy who had helped us to carry the basketinto the house and sent him for a policeman. Betsy had opened her eyesby this time, but all she could say had no meaning for me, nor was itany clearer to him. When we had got her across to his surgery and lefther there, we returned to the house together, and as we went I tried totell him just what had happened and how I came to be mixed up in such astrange affair. The story was still half told when we mounted thesteps of Bredfield and walked straight up to the basket which hadscared the girl out of her wits and left me wondering whether I wasawake or dreaming. Now, however, I had no doubt at all about thematter, for whoever was under that lid was struggling pretty wildly toget free, and would have broken the cords in another minute if thedoctor had not cut them. 

A couple of slashes with a lancet severed the stout rope with which my"bundle" had been tied, and a third cut the bit of string which boundthe hasp to the wickerwork. I stepped back instinctively as thegentleman raised the lid, and so, to be honest, did he--the samethought, I am sure, being in both our heads and the belief that our ownlives might be in danger. When the truth was revealed, my firstimpulse was to laugh aloud, my second to set off in my car without amoment's loss of time, and try to lay by the heels the pair of villainswho had done this thing. 

In a word, I may tell you that the basket contained a young girl, apparently not more than fifteen years of age; that she was dressed inrags, though apparently a lady of condition, and that when we liftedher out it appeared that her reason had gone and that her young lifemight shortly follow it. 

I've been through some strange times in my life; had many a peep intothe next world, so to speak; seen men die quick and die slow--but forreal right-down astonishment and pity I shall never better that scenein the Boundary Road, St. John's Wood, if I live as long as thepatriarchs. 

Just picture the brightly lighted hall and the open basket, and thispretty little thing with yellow hair streaming over her shoulders andher bare arms extended as though in entreaty toward the doctor and me, and such cries upon her lips as though we, and not the men who had senther here, had been her would-be murderers. I tell you that I wouldhave sold my home to save her, and that's no idle word. Unhappily, Icould do nothing, and what I would have done the police forbade me todo, for there were three of them in the room before five minutes hadpassed; and I might be forgiven for saying that half the local forcewas present inside half an hour. 

Well, you know what a policeman is when anything big turns up; howthere's a mighty fine note-book about two foot long to be produced, andperhaps a drop of whisky and soda to whet his pencil, and then thequestions and the answers and what not--all the time the thief isrunning hard down the back street and the gold watch is sticking out ofhis boot. 

I answered perhaps a hundred and fifty questions that night, and nobodyany the wiser for them. Notes were taken of everything: the time I setout, where my father was born, what they paid me for the job, theaddress of the garage, Christian name and surname of AbrahamMoss--whether I'd had my licence endorsed or kept it clean--until atlast, able to stand it no longer, I told the inspector plainly thatthis wasn't Colney Hatch, and the sooner he understood as much thebetter. 

"Here's my car and there's the street, " said I; "will you drive toRichmond Road and see the house for yourself or will you not? I tellyou there were two of them, and one may be there now. You can prove itfor yourself or let it go, as you like. But don't say it wasn't talkedabout or I shall know how to contradict you. "

He came down to ground at this and consented to go with me. We wereback again in the Richmond Road inside a quarter of an hour andknocking at the door of the house where I had picked the basket upabout two minutes later. A very old woman opened to us this time, andanswered very civilly that the two strange gentlemen had left for theContinent by the evening train, and she had no idea if they wouldreturn or no. They had always paid her regularly, she said, though notoften at home; while as for their room, we could examine that withpleasure. The more amazing confession came after, for when she waspressed to tell us something about the young lady, she declared stoutlythat she had never seen one, and that the Messrs. Picton--for so shecalled her lodgers--kept no female company, and very rarely had askedeven a gentleman to their rooms. 

The inspector listened to all she had to say and then made a formalsearch of the house. It would be waste of time to insist that he foundnothing--not so much as a scrap of paper or an empty collar-box toenlighten him; but he gave strict orders that no one was to enter themen's room upon any pretext whatsoever; and when he had locked it andpocketed the key, he made me drive him back to the Boundary Road andthen up to the hospital at Hampstead, to which the little girl had beencarried and where she was then lying. Naturally I had the _entrêe_ aswell as he--for there were three or four swagger men from Scotland Yardon the carpet by this time, and all of them mighty anxious to make myacquaintance. From these I learned that the child was still incoherentin her talk, and utterly unable to remember who she was or whence shehad come. Fright had paralysed her faculties. She might have beenborn yesterday for all she knew about it. 

For my part, I had a strong desire to talk to the girl myself and put afew questions which had come into my head while we were waiting; butthe police would have none of this, and the most they would permit meto do was to look at her from the far end of the ward, which I did fora long time, watching her face very closely, and wondering howbeautiful it was. 

When they sent me away at last I returned to the garage down West, andso to my bed, but not to sleep. It must have been three o'clock of themorning by this time, and I lay until I heard some noisy church-clockstriking seven, when I determined to stop there tossing about nolonger, but to get up and read the morning papers. Few of them, however, had more than a brief paragraph announcing the fact, and wehad to wait for the "evenings" to discover the real sensation. Myword, how thick they laid it on--and what a hero they made of me. Imust have been interviewed a dozen times that day, and when thefollowing morning's papers came, I read for the first time that areward of five hundred pounds had been offered for the capture of theperpetrators of this outrage, and that it would be paid by the Editorof the _Daily Herald_ on the day that the mystery was solved. 

Of course, there were many theories. Some believed it to be a case ofabduction pure and simple, some of revenge; a few recommended thedoctors to follow the poison clue and to ascertain if the child hadbeen drugged before she was put into the basket. 

Speaking for myself, I had an idea in my head, which I didn't mentioneven to Betsy Chambers, whom it was necessary for me to see prettyoften about that time, and generally of evenings. This idea, Isuppose, would have knocked the Scotland Yard braves silly withlaughing; but I had no fancy to share five hundred with them--moreespecially since they took seven fifteen off me at Kingston last PettySessions--so I just kept a quiet tongue in my head and mentioned thematter to nobody. Perhaps it was unfortunate I did not; I can't tellyou more than this, that the next ten days found me walking about Sohoas though I had a fancy to buy up the neighbourhood, and that on theeleventh day precisely I found what I wanted--found it by what I mighthave called a turn of Providence if I didn't know now it was somethingvery different. 

I should remind you hereabouts that the case was still the rage of thetown, though hope of bringing the would-be assassins to justice hadalmost been abandoned. 

The little girl now began to remember her past in a dim sort of way, and had told the police that she lived in a foreign country by thesea--which was not the same as saying Southend-on-the-Mud by a longway, Her father she recollected distinctly, and cried out for him veryoften in her sleep. She did not seem to think she had a mother, and ofwhat happened in the Richmond Road her mind recalled nothing. I hadseen her twice; but she was so frightened when I went near her that thepolice forbade me to go at all--and I do believe, upon my solemn word, that if it hadn't been for the witnesses they would have said I hadsomething to do with the job myself. 

This, be sure, didn't trouble me at all. What was in my mind was thefive hundred sterling offered by the _Daily Herald_ for the solution ofthe mystery; and that sum I did not lose sight of night or day. To winit I must discover the Yankee with the voice like a saw-mill, and thelittle cove with the saucer eyes, and for these, upon an instinct whichI can hardly account for even to myself (save to say it was connectedwith three days I spent in Paris eight months ago) I hunted Soho foreleven days as other men hunt big game in Africa. And, will youbelieve it, when I discovered one of them at last, it was not by myeyes, but by his, for he spotted me at the very top of Wardour Street, and, coming across the road, he slapped me on the shoulder, just asthough I had been his only brother let loose on society for theespecial purpose of shaking him by the hand. 

"Why, " says he, "I guess it's the coachman. "

"Coachman be d----d, " says I; "hasn't Pentonville taught you no bettermanners than that? You be careful, " says I, "or they'll be cancellingyour ticket-of-leave----"

He wasn't to be affronted, for he continued to treat me as though heloved me and life had been a misery since we lost each other. 

"Say, " cried he, "you got through with the basket all right. Well, seehere, now; do you want to get that five hundred, Britten, or do younot? I'll play the White Man with you--do you want to get it?"

"Oh, " cried I, "if it's a matter of five hundred being put in thecloak-room because there isn't a label on it----"

"Then come along, " he rejoined, and, taking me by the arm, he led mealong the street, turned sharp round to the right into a place thatlooked like a disused coach-house; and before I could wink my eye, hedragged me through a door into a room beyond, and then burst outlaughing fit to split. 

"Britten, " says he, "you're fairly done down. I've got the cinch onyou, Britten. Don't you perceive that same?"

Well, of all the fools! My head spun with the thought; not at firstthe thought of fear, mind you, though fear followed right enough, butjust with the irony of it all, and the rightdown lunacy which sent meinto this trap as a fly goes into a spider's web. And this man wouldsuck me dry; I hadn't a doubt of it; a word might cost me my life. 

"Well, " I rejoined, knowing that my safety depended upon my wits, "andwhat if I am? Do you suppose I came here without letting InspectorMelton know where I was coming? You'd better think it out, old chap. There may be two at the corner and both on the wrong side. Don't youmake no mistake. "

He laughed very quietly, and as though to make his own words good heput up the shutters on the only window the miserable den of a placepossessed. We were in a kind of twilight now, in a miserably furnishedshanty, with the paper peeling off the walls and the fire-grate allrusted and the very boards broken beneath our feet. And I believed hehad a pistol in his pocket, and that he would use it if I so much aslifted my hand. 

"Oh, " says he presently, and in a mocking tone which ran down my backlike cold water from a spout. "Oh, you're a brave boy, Britten, andwhen you spread yourself about the tecs, I like you. Now, see here, did I try to murder that girl or did I not? Fair question and fairanswer. Am I the man the police are looking for, or is it another?"

I answered him straight out. 

"The pair of you are in it. You know that well enough--and the rewardis five hundred, to say nothing of what the police are offering. "

"You mean to have that reward, Britten. "

"If I can get it fairly, yes. "

"As good as to say you'll walk straight out of here and give me up?"

"Unless you can tell me you didn't do it. "

He swung round on his heel and looked at me as savage as a devil out ofhell. 

"I did it, Britten--Barney, my mate, had nothing to do with it. Didn'tyou see him sweat the night you picked us up? Barney's a tender-footat this game; he'll never cut a figure in the 'Calendar, ' why, not ifhe lives to be a chimpanzee in the human menagerie. Barney ought to beholding forth in the tabernacle round the corner. Him do it--why, hecouldn't kill a calf. "

Well, I think I sat back and shuddered at this; anyway, an awfulfeeling of horror came upon me, both at the man's word and at thethought of my lonely situation, and of what must come afterwards. Allthe calculations seemed against me. I am a strong man, and would havestood up to this Yankee, fist to fist, for any sum you care to name;but the pistol in his pocket, and the certainty that he would use itupon any provocation, held me to my seat as though I were glued there. And thus for five whole minutes, an eternity of time to me, I watchedhim pace up and down the room, gloating upon his horrid work, andwondering when my turn would come. 

"Britten, " he said presently--and his voice had changed, Ithought--"Britten, would you like a whisky and soda?"

"If it's only whisky and soda----"

"What! You think I'm going to doctor it--same as I did Mabel's?"

"I don't know to what you refer--but something of the kind was in myhead. "

It amused him finely--and I must say again that his attitude allthrough was that of a man who could hardly keep from laughing whateverhe did, so that I came to think he must be little short of a ravingmaniac, and that perhaps the Court would find him such. 

"Oh, " says he, "don't you fear, Britten, I shan't treat you thatway--you may drink my whisky all right, a barrelful if you can. When Iwant to deal with you, Britten, it will be another wayaltogether--cash, my boy; have you any objection to a little cash?"

I opened my eyes wide, telling myself, for the second time, that he wasas certainly mad as any March hare in the picture-books; but I saidnothing, for he had turned to a little wooden cupboard near thefireplace, and before he spoke again he set a bottle of whisky, asyphon, and two tumblers on the table, and poured out a stiffish dosefor himself and its fellow for me. When I had watched him drink it, and not before, I followed suit, and never did a man want a whisky andsoda as badly. 

"Your health, " says he--I believe I wished him the same. "And littleMabel Bellamy's----"

I put the glass down on the table with a bang. 

"Good God!" said I, "not Mabel Bellamy that did the disappearing trickat the Folies Bergères in Paris two years ago?"

"The same, " says he. 

"And you are telling me----"

"That she was a very fine actress. Do you deny it, Mr. Britten?"

I rose and buttoned my coat--but the black look was in his eyes again. 

"Britten, " says he, "not in so much of a hurry, if you please. I amgoing round to the _Daily Herald_ this afternoon to get that fivehundred. You will sit here until I return, when I shall pay you fiftyof the best. Is it a bargain, Britten--have we the right to the moneyor have you?"

I thought upon it for a moment and could not deny the justice of it. 

"Do you mean to say you did it for an advertisement?" I cried. 

"The very same, " says he, "and this night, Mabel's fond papa, thegentleman with the big eyes, Britten, will go to Hampstead and take hislong-lost daughter to his breast. She makes her first appearance atthe Casino Theatre to-morrow night, Britten----"

I rose and shook him by the hand. 

"Fifty of the best, " said I, "and I'll wait for them here. "

 * * * * *

Well, I must say it was a tidy good notion, first for the pair of themto work a trick like that on the public just for the sake of lettingall the world know that Mabel Bellamy was to disappear from a basket atthe Casino Theatre; and secondly, dropping on the _Daily Herald_ forfive hundred of the best--and getting it, too, before the story gotwind. 

You see, the _Herald_ lost no money, for they had a fine scoop all totheir little selves, while the other papers gnashed their teeth andlooked on. Nor was the whole truth told by a long way, but a garbledversion about foreign coves who worked the business and bolted, and adoting father who never consented to it--and such a hash-up andhocus-pocus as would have made a pig laugh. 

Whether, however, the public really took it all, or whether it resentedthe manner of the play, is not for me to say. 

Sentiment is, after all, a very fine thing, as I told Betsy Chambersthe night I gave her the anchor brooch and asked her to wear it forauld lang syne, to say nothing of the good time we had when I took herto Maidenhead in old Moss's car and pretended I was broken down atReading with a dot-and-go-one accumulator. Of course, Moss weighed inwith an interview. I wonder the sight of his ugly old mug didn'tshrivel the paper it was printed on. 

Anyway me and Betsy--but that's another story, and so, perhaps, I hadbetter conclude. 

VI

THE COUNTESS

To begin with, I suppose, it would be as well to tell you her name, butI only saw it once in the address-book at the Ritz Hotel in Paris, andthen I couldn't have written it down for myself--no, not if a man hadoffered me five of the best for doing so. 

You see, she gave it out that she came from foreign parts, and herhusband, when she remembered that she'd got one, was supposed to be aHungarian grandee with a name fit to crack walnuts, and a moustachelike an antelope's horns set over a firegrate to speak of herancestors. Had I been offered two guesses, I would have said that shecame from New York City and that her name was Mary. But who am I tocontradict a pretty woman in trouble, and what was the matter withMaria Louise Theresa, and all the rest of it, as she set it down in thevisitors' book at the hotel?

I'd been over to Paris on a job with a big French car, and worked therea little while for James D. Higgs, the American tin-plate maker, whowas making things shine at the Ritz Hotel, and had a Panhard almost bigenough to take the chorus to Armenonville--which he did by sections, showing neither fear nor favour, and being wonderful domesticated inhis tastes. 

When James was overtaken by the domestic emotions, and thought he wouldreturn to Pittsburg to his sorrowing wife and children, he handed meover to the Countess, saying that she was a particular friend of his, and that if her ancestors didn't sail with the Conqueror it wasprobably because they had an appointment at the Moulin Rouge and weretoo gentlemanly to break it--which was his way of tipping me the wink;and "Britten, my boy, " says he, "keep her out of mischief, for you areall she has got in this wicked world. "

Well, it was an eye-opener, I must say; for I hadn't seen her for morethan two minutes together, and when we did meet, I found her to be justa jolly little American chassis, slim and shapely, and as full of "go"as a schoolgirl on a roundabout. Her idea, she told me, was to drive aDelahaye car she had hired, from Paris to Monte Carlo, and there tomeet her husband with the jaw-cracking name; whom, she assured me, withthe look of an angel in the blue picture, she hadn't seen for more thantwo years. 

"Two years, Britten--sure and certain. Now what do you think of that?"

"It would depend upon your husband, madame, " said I; upon which shelaughed so loud they must have heard her in the garden below. 

"Why, to be sure, " says she, "you've got there first time. It doesdepend upon the husband, and mine is the kindest, gentlest, mostfoolish creature that ever was in this world. So, you see, I amdetermined not to be kept from him any longer. "

"Then, madame, " said I, "we had better start at once. "

I thought that she hesitated, could have sworn that she was about toadmit me further into her confidence; but I suppose she considered thetime unsuited; and after asking me a few questions about the car, andwhether I knew the road and was a careful driver, she gave meinstructions to be at the hotel at nine o'clock on the followingmorning. So away I went, telling myself that the world was a funnyplace, and wondering what Herr Joseph, the jaw-cracker, would have tosay to his good lady when she did turn up at Montey and laid her newbeehive hat upon his doting bosom. 

This was no business of mine. I am a motor-driver, and two pound tenon Saturday is my abiding anxiety. Give me my wages regular, and theclass of passenger who feels for the driver's palm at the journey'send, and I'll ask nothing more of Providence. So on the followingmorning, at nine sharp, I drove the big Delahaye round to the Ritz, andby a quarter past her ladyship was aboard and we were making for Dijonand the coast. 

No motorist who knows anything of the game will ask me to describe thisjourney, or to tell him just where he should stop because of the dead'uns of five hundred years ago, or where he should hurry on because ofthe livestock of to-day. I had a fine car under me, a pretty woman inthe tonneau, a May-day to put life into me, and a road so fine that aman might dream of it in his sleep. And if that's not what theschoolmaster calls Eldorado, then I'll send him a halfpenny card tofind out just what is. 

So let it suffice to say that we went at our leisure--slept at Dijonand at Lyons, were one night at Avignon, and two nights later at Nice. If there was anything to remark during the journey, it was Madame'sgrowing anxiety as we approached the Mediterranean, and the number oftelegrams she sent to her friends whenever we chanced to halt--even inthe meanest villages. 

The telegrams I had the pleasure to read more than once as I handedthem over the counter; but those that were in German were no good tome, and those that were in French I could but half decipher. None theless, I got the impression that she was in a state of much distress andperplexity, and that all her messages were to one end--namely, that sheshould have the right to go somewhere at present forbidden her, andthat the Baron Albert, whoever he might be, should be interviewed onher behalf and persuaded that she was a lady of all the virtues. 

A final telegram to an English gentleman at Vienna capped all, and wasnot to be misunderstood. It simply said, "I shall publish the story ifthey persevere. " And that seemed to me an ugly threat to come from sopretty a sender, though of its meaning I had no more knowledge than thedead. 

Perhaps you will say that I was a poor sort to have been reading hertelegrams at all; that it didn't concern me; and that I was paid tohold my tongue. Well, that is true enough, and Madame had little tocomplain of on such a score, I must say. To all and sundry whoquestioned me at the hotels, I just said she was the wife of aHungarian nobleman, and that she travelled for her pleasure. When wearrived at Nice, and an impertinent policeman got me into a corner, soto speak, and tried to put me through the catechism, I simply said, "Nospeakee Frenchee--Mistress Americano, " and at that he shook his headand wrote it down in a note-book about as large as a grocer's ledger. But I plainly perceived that something more than mere police curiosityaccounted for all this cross-examination; and when Madame sent for meto her private sitting-room that night, I guessed immediately thatsomething was up, and that I was about to learn the nature of it. 

I shall always remember the occasion, as beautiful a night of aSouthern summer as a man could hap upon. Still and starry, the seawithout a ripple; the ships like black shapes against an azure sky; thelights of the houses shining upon the moonlit gardens; the music of thebands; the gay talk of the merry people--oh, who would go northward ho!if Providence set him down on such a spot as this? And upon it all wasthe picture of Madame herself--of that lady of the gazelle's eyes andthe milk-white skin, as she invited me into her sitting-room and askedme to sit down while she talked. 

You could not have matched her for beauty in Nice; I doubt if you couldhave done it nearer than Paris and the Ritz. Dressed in a lot offluffy stuff, with a pink satin skirt, and arms bare to the shouldersand a chain of diamonds about her neck--dressed like this, and so sweetand gracious in her manner, talking to me just as though she had knownme from infancy, and asking me, Lal Britten, to help her--why, you betI said "Yes, " and said it so plainly that even she could not mistake me. 

"Why, Britten, " says she, "do you know what has happened to-day?"

"Couldn't guess it if I tried, madame, " said I. 

"Well, then, I must tell you: they won't let me go to Monte Carlo, Britten. They say the Emperor forbids it. "

"But, madame, is there any need to ask the old gentleman's permission?Aren't you an American citizen?"

She laughed at my idea of it, and asked me if I would like a glass ofport wine, which I did to oblige her; while she took another as thoughshe liked it, which I have no reason to suppose she did not. 

"You see, Britten, " she said, presently, "a woman is of her husband'snationality, and so, of course, I am a Hungarian. That is why theEmperor has the power to say that I must not be admitted to Monte Carlojust at the moment when my dear husband is waiting for me there. Now, don't you think it is very hard upon us both?"

"It's very hard on him, madame, seeing you are in the case. I shouldwant to know him before I said the same thing for you, asking yourpardon for the liberty. "

She took no notice of this, but casting up her eyes to heaven--and atthat game Miss Sarah Bernhardt out of Paris couldn't beat her--sheexclaimed:

"Oh, my poor Joseph, whatever will he think of me? I dare notcontemplate it, Britten--I really dare not. "

"Then I should leave it alone, madame. Is there no way of getting thisdecision altered?"

"None that I can think of, unless----"

"Unless what, madame?"

She tapped the table with her pretty fingers, and poured me out asecond glass of port wine. 

"Unless the mountain will come to Mahomet--but I guess you don't knowwhat that means, Britten, now do you?"

She screwed her lips up to the kissing point with this, and looked atme so tenderly that I began to feel nervous--upon my word I did. 

"Do you mean that your husband must come here, madame?"

"Of course I mean it, Britten. You must fetch him--by a trick. Nowwouldn't that be splendid--say, wouldn't it be fine? If we couldoutwit them--if we could make the Emperor look foolish!"

I rubbed my chin and thought about it. There isn't much modesty in myprofession, but the idea of getting up against a policeman so far frommy humble home somehow put the brake on, and I found myself misfiringlike one o'clock in spite of her pretty eyes and her red lips, and her"take me in your arms and kiss me" look. The Croydon lot are badenough, but as for the beaks at Montey--well, I've heard tales of themand to spare. 

"It would be fine, madame, if we could do it, " said I at last; "butbetween talking of it here in this hotel and crossing the frontier----"

"Oh, " she cried, interrupting me almost angrily--and she has the devilof a temper--"oh, there's no difficulty, Britten. Just drive to theHermitage after my husband has dined to-morrow night, and say that ifhe wants the news of Madame Clara, you can take him where he will getit. Don't you see, Clara is one of my pet names. He'll understand ina moment, and you can drive him to this hotel. Are you afraid to dothat, Britten?"

Of course I wasn't afraid, and she knew it. It was nothing to meanyway, and I could always plead that I was her servant and anEnglishman, and didn't care a damn for this particular Emperor or anyother. None the less, if she hadn't smiled upon me as she did at thatparticular moment--smiled like a daffy-down-dilly in April, andsqueezed my hand as soft as June roses, which the same appeared to bedone by accident, I might have left it alone, after all. As it was, Ihad set off at seven o'clock on the following evening, and at a quarterpast nine I was asking at the Hermitage for Count Joseph, just as fullof the story I had to tell as a history-book of kings. 

A black and white _maître d'hôtel_, picked out with gold, replied tothis, and after talking to half a dozen waiters and sending for anotherchap with a shirt-front like a Mercedes bonnet, they directed me to alittle hotel down by Monaco; and there the head waiter received mequite affably, and said, "Certainly, the gentleman was at home. " WhenI had given my name, but not my business, I was ushered up, perhapsafter an interval of ten minutes, to a sitting-room on the first floor, and there I found myself face to face with a fat, red-faced man inevening dress; and if ever there was a martinet down Montey way, thisfine gentleman was that same. He was fat, I say, and forty--but towrite that he was fair would be impossible, for he hadn't more thanabout half a dozen hairs on his head, and those had drifted down hisneck to get out of the wind. When I came in he appeared to be sippingCognac out of a long green bottle, and to be reading private papersjust as fast as he could get through them, but he looked up presently, and a pair of wickeder eyes I do not want to see. 

"Who sent you here?" he asked. 

"A lady, " said I. 

"Her name?"

"Madame Clara. "

He turned and snuffed the wick of a candle standing on the table by hisside. From his manner I did not think him quite sober, but he appearedto pull himself together by-and-by, and then he exclaimed:

"Repeat your message. "

"I am to say that if you wish for news of Madame Clara, I can take youwhere you will get it. "

Well, I thought that he smiled, though I cannot be quite sure of that. Presently, however, he stood up without a word, and, going into hisbedroom, he brought a heavy fur coat and cap into the sitting-room, andmotioned me to help him on with them. When that was done, he openedthe door and invited me to precede him down the corridor. 

"I will see the lady, " he said--and that was all. We were in the cartwo minutes afterwards, making for Nice on the "fourth, " and not a soulto interfere with us or to do more than take a glance at our papers aswe passed the stations. Never had there been a lighter job; never hada man helped a woman so easily. 

I thought about all this, be sure, as we drew near Nice and the end ofour game appeared to be at hand. The old women tell us not to countour chickens before they are hatched, and that's a thing I am not inthe habit of doing; but the more I reflected upon it, the betterpleased did I feel with myself, and the greater was my wonder at thelady's tastes. That such a pretty little woman, such a gay soul, sucha good judge of men--for she was a judge, I'll swear--that she shouldhave ever been in love with this sack of lard I was driving toNice--well, that did astonish me beyond measure; though it should nothave done so, knowing women as I do, and seeing how old Father Timedoes stick his dirty fingers on our idols and make banshees of the bestof them. 

I say that I was astonished, but such a feeling soon gave place toothers; and when I brought up my car with a dash to the door of thehotel, and the gold-laced porter helped the fat old gentleman out, curiosity took the place of wonder. I became as anxious as aparlourmaid at a keyhole to know what Madame would have to say to thistwenty-stone husband, and, what particular terms of endearment he wouldchoose for his reply. Certainly if pleasurable anticipation is to bedenoted by smiles, he found no fault with his present situation, for hegrinned like a gorilla when he got down, and, nodding to me quiteaffably, he asked:

"Upon which floor is Madame Clara staying, did you say?"

"The third floor--number 113. "

"Ah, " says he, adjusting his glasses and turning round to go in, "thatis an unlucky number, my friend, " and without another word he enteredthe hotel and left me there. 

Of course, I didn't expect him to talk to me, was not looking for a tipfrom Madame's own husband, but I had expected a question or two; andwhen he had departed the porter and I stopped there gossiping a bit, for it was likely that the car might be wanted again that night--and, to be truthful, I more than half hoped that Madame would send for me. 

"What's up?" asks the porter--he passes for a foreigner, but I happento know he was born just off Soho. "What's up, matey?"

"Why, " says I, "that's just what I'd like to know myself. Can't youtell the chambermaid at 113 to find out?"

"The maid's off. Is that old cove licensed?"

"All in order at Scotland Yard, " says I. "He's took out a license todrive, and his papers are passed. That's my missis' husband. "

"Oh, " he remarked, in a dreamy kind of way, "which one?"

"Why, the gentleman who just went in. "

"Poor soul!" says he, in a most aggravating manner, "how fast she dolose 'em. I wonder who pays for the headstones?"

"Do you know her?" asked I, for his words took me aback. 

He shook his head at this, and then scratched it as though he weretrying to think. 

"Larst time, " he said presently, "larst time she dropped one or two atCannes, I'm thinking---- But, Lord love me, what's that?"

He stepped back on the pavement and looked up to the window of the room113. I had heard the shindy as well as he--a regular scream, as thougha woman was mad in her tantrums, and upon that a crash of glass andsilence--while the porter and me, we just stared at one another. 

"Votes for women!" says he, presently, and in so droll a way that I hadto laugh in spite of myself; but before I could answer him, what do youthink? Why, out come the old gentleman, just as calm and smiling as hehad been ten minutes ago. 

"You will drive me back to Monaco, " he began. I asked him by whoseorders; but at that he looked like a devil incarnate, and spoke so loudthat I was right down frightened of him. 

"You will drive me back to Monaco or spend the night in prison!" heshouted. "Now, which do you prefer?"

"Oh, " says I, "in you get!" And in he did get, as I'm a Dutchman, andI drove him back to the hotel at Monaco--which was about the hour ofone in the morning, and no mistake at all. When he got out at last, nobabe in frocks could have looked more innocent, and he just handed meup a couple of louis, like a father blessing his only son. 

"You drive very well, my lad. Where did you learn?"

"On a good car, sir. Henri Fourtnier taught me about the time of thesecond Gordon Bennett. But I don't suppose you remember that. "

"Certainly I remember it. The late Count Zborowski was one of myfriends. Let me give you a little piece of advice. It is better todrive for a gentleman than a lady. "

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

But he waved his hand with a flourish, and crying, "A bonnyarntarndure, " or something of that kind, he disappeared into his hoteland left me to think what I liked. And a lot I did think as I droveback to Nice, I do assure you--for a rummier game I had never beenengaged in, and that's the truth, upon my word and honour. 

It was daylight when I reached the garage, and out of the question, ofcourse, to think of seeing Madame. Speaking for myself, I was toodog-tired to ask if she wanted me or not; and going up to my bedroom, Imust have slept till nine o'clock without lifting an eyelid. At thathour the boots waked me in a deuce of a stew, telling me that Madamemust see me without a moment's loss of time. I dressed anyhow and wentdown to her. Poor little woman, what a state she was in! I don'tthink I ever saw a sorrier picture in all my life. 

No fluffy stuff and fine pink satin now, but a shabby old morning gownand her hair anyhow upon her shoulders, and in her eyes the look of awoman who has been hunted and does not know where on God's earth she isgoing to find a habitation. I've seen it twice in my life, and I neverwant to see it again--for what man with a heart would wish to do so?

"Britten, " she says, almost like a play-actress on the stage of atheatre, "Britten, do you know what happened last night?"

"Well, " says I, "for that matter lots of things happened; but if you'respeaking of the gentleman, your husband----"

"My husband!"--you should have heard her laugh; it was just like one ofthe animals at the Zoo--"my husband! That wasn't my husband! That wasthe Baron Albert--the man I dread more than any one in the world. Howcould you make such a mistake, Britten?"

I shook my head. 

"Madame, " says I, "I'm very sorry, but I took the first one that camealong and answered to the name. It must have been the head waiter'sfault. "

She clenched her hands and began to step up and down the room, wildwith perplexity. 

"It was all planned, Britten--all planned. They knew that I shouldsend for Count Joseph, and this villain came from Vienna to thwart me. He must have bribed the servants at the hotel. And now, what do yousay to it? I am to be banished from France--he swears it. They havewritten to Paris, and the decree may come at any moment. I am to bebanished, Britten--driven out like a common criminal! Oh, what shall Ido? My God, what shall I do?"

That was a question I couldn't answer, but it did seem a wicked thingto treat a woman so, and I wasn't ashamed to admit it. 

"Is there any law in France that can turn you out, madame?" I asked. She answered that quickly enough. 

"Certainly there is, Britten. I know all about it. They can turn meout at twenty-four hours' notice. "

"Why not go to the American Consulate, madame?"

"Oh, you don't understand. If my husband were but here! Oh, theywould not insult me then--even if you were my husband, Britten. "

Upon my life and soul, I believe that she meant it. There was a lookin her eyes as she stood before me which, unless I'm the biggest foolin Christendom, told me what was what plainly enough. A word, and Icould have taken that fine lady in my arms. I would swear to it. 

And what forbade me, you ask? Well, perhaps I'd heard a smash of glasslast night, and perhaps I hadn't; but I do believe it was that porter'sfoolish remark about "votes for women" which put me off more thananything else. So I drew back a step and answered her with morerespect than ever. 

"I'll see that nobody insults you while I am your servant, madame. IfI may make a suggestion, I would advise you to leave this town. "

She looked at me thoughtfully. 

"And where should I go, Britten?"

"Back to Paris, madame--they won't interfere with you there. "

"But my husband--my dear husband?"

I shrugged my shoulders. 

"Perhaps Mahomet will come to the--er--em--to you, madame. "

It was her turn to laugh; but I soon learned that my suggestion was nogood to her, and for a very simple reason. 

"Ah, " she said, "men are strange creatures, Britten. When we will, they will not; and when we will not, why, then they give us jewellery. I can't go back to Paris. If I do, a police officer goes with me. "

"Take him on the box and call him a footman--unless you prefer to makefor London right away, madame. "

She was emphatic about this. 

"I can't, Britten! I must stay in Paris. It is my last chance ofseeing Count Joseph before he returns to Vienna for the summer. Oh, isthere no way? Is it quite impossible?"

I scratched my head. Something had been inside it for some minutes. 

"Would you care to sit on the box beside me, madame?"

She was all ears at this. 

"Of course I wouldn't mind. Have I not myself driven a car? CountMendez taught me at Cannes last year. "

"Could you drive this car a little way on the road to Italy?"

"Why, certainly I could. But how would that help us?"

"Supposing, " said I, "that you didn't mind my old mackintosh, madame. I've got that, and a leather cap I keep for the cold weather. If youwould put them on and sit beside me, I think we might do it. You candrive if there's any necessity to do so. "

She clapped her hands so loud that I thought they would hear us on thePromenade des Anglais below. 

"I'll do it, Britten--as I'm a living woman I'll do it. Go and bringyour clothes. We may not have an hour to spare. I'll cheat them yet, Britten. Oh, you clever man--you clever man to have thought of it. "

"We might start at dusk, madame. Pay your bill, and give it out thatwe are going into Italy this afternoon. You needn't come back. I'llfind you a private room next door to the garage, where you can change, and we can set off just like two drivers on the box-seat, and nobody apenny the wiser. When you get to Paris I can take you to a littlehotel----"

She was like a child about it. 

"Why, of all the clever men! You shall look after me in Paris. Iwon't forget you, Britten, and I'm rich enough for anything--atpresent. You shall stop with me until Count Joseph comes----"

I thought to myself that it would be an over-long engagement in thatcase; but there was no call to say anything of the kind to her, andstopping only to repeat my directions, I went round to the garage andmade ready. If Madame herself was excited at the prospect of givingthe fat man the go-by, I was no less; and I assure you that no boy'sgame I had ever played excited me half as much. Best of all was thethought that our quickness would forestall them; and if the authoritiesdid decide to expel her, we should be on the road to Paris long beforethe edict arrived. 

As to what might happen afterwards, I was indifferent; for Paris is thesame as London to a proper motor-man, and I am just as much at home inthe Champs Elysêes as in Regent Street. So I left that to fortune, and, setting about the plan, I had my things packed and the car madeready under an hour, and at four o'clock sharp that afternoon I pickedup Madame and her trunks at the door of the hotel and set off boldly asthough to drive her to the Italian frontier. But I turned back beforewe had gone a mile, and making straight for the little Italian hotelnext door to the garage, I smuggled her in without a soul being thewiser, and out again as cleverly just after dusk. She was dressed thenjust as I have told you--mackintosh up to her ears and a flat leathercap, suiting her pretty face to perfection. But any fool could haveseen she was a woman twenty yards away; and I began to ask which wasthe bigger idiot--me for making the suggestion, or she for taking it?It was too late, however, to think of that, and trusting that good luckmight pull us through, perhaps looking on the whole affair as one whichwas pretty near its end--and that no good end--I let the car go andmade straight for Brignoles. 

Quite what apprehension of danger was in her head or mine I reallydon't know. Sometimes I think that she had a silly notion of what theFrench prefect might have done to her, exaggerating, as women will, thereal situation, and dreadfully frightened of "foreigners. "

For myself, I wanted to get her back to Paris in spite of the attemptto stop us; perhaps I wanted to be even with the red-faced man, who hadordered me about last night; but whichever way it was, I could havelaughed fit to split every time I looked at that odd little bundle bymy side and thought of it as it was last night, all dressed in flummeryand rustling like the leaves. Nevertheless, I made no mention of it;and, as much to her surprise as mine, we passed through Frejus withoutany one stopping us, and drove right through the night without let orhindrance. Not until dawn did I begin to ask myself somequestions--and they were awkward ones. What the devil was I going todo with her in the towns? Why had I never thought of it? She waswearing my long mackintosh, to be sure; but who would fail to recogniseher, and what would the talk be like?

A hundred difficulties, not one of which I had had the brains to thinkof last night, kept popping up like midgets in a puppet-show; and, asthough to crown them all, bang went the near-side back tyre at thatvery moment, and there we were by the roadside, at five in the morning, in as desolate a place as you want to find, and not the sign of houseor village wherever the eye might turn. 

Now Madame had been nearly asleep upon my shoulder when this happened, but she woke up at the report and looked up all about her as though shehad been dreaming. 

"Where are we, Britten?" she asked. "What has happened to us?"

"Tyre gone, madame. I must trouble you to get down. "

She woke up at this, and got out immediately. I could see that she wasmore clear-headed than she had been last night, if not less frightened. 

"This was a very foolish thing to do, Britten. We are sure to befollowed. "

"That's as it may be, madame. I fear it's too late to think of it now. My business is to get this tyre fixed up. "

"Will it take you very long, Britten?"

"Thirty minutes ordinary. But it's a new cover and stiff--I'll sayforty. "

"Then I'll see to the breakfast. Wasn't it clever of me to think ofit? I've brought a Thermos and a basket. We'll have breakfast in thelittle wood on the hillside. If no one follows us, I can be myselfagain at Aix, and we shall get to Paris, after all. But oh, Britten, Imust look an object in your clothes. Why ever did you ask me to wearthem?"

I made a dry answer. A man wrestling with a 935 by 135 cover isn'texactly in the mood to compliment a woman on her frippery or talk aboutthe mountains. And I'm no more than human, all said and done, and thesight of the food she took out of the basket made me feel well-nighdesperate. So I turned my back upon her, and she went off to the copseto prepare breakfast as she had promised. Not five minutes afterwardsI heard the hum of another car in the distance, and, looking up from mywheel, I saw a great red Mercedes coming down the hillside like a racerat Brooklands. 

I knew that we were in for it; instinct told me immediately that we hadbeen followed from Frejus or Nice, and that danger was aboard thatflyer, and would be up with us in less than two minutes. What to do, whether to shout to Madame to run and hide herself--to do that or justgo on with my work as though nothing had happened was a problem to makea man half silly. But in the end I held on tenaciously, and when thebig car drew up beside me, I merely looked up and nodded to the driveras though to signal to him that all was well. 

"Bon jour, " says he. 

"Morning, " says I. 

"Vous-êtes en panne, mon ami?"

"Hit it first time, " says I--for those words are understood by everymotor-man who's been in the Riviera--"in the pan and the greasetogether. Where are you for?"

"Brignoles et Paris. Mais où donc est Madame?"

I looked up, my heart beating fast, and took a peep into his tonneau. The red-faced man was there right enough, but as fast asleep as aparson over his empty port-wine glass. Could I persuade this bonnyFrenchman to get on with his job, we were half out of the wood sure andcertain. But could I? Lord, how my hands shook when I replied:

"Madame est allé dans le train--Paree--Calais--moi je suis seul"--whichwas rather good, I thought, though that was not the time to say so. 

Well, it seemed successful enough. The Frenchee took a look to theright and a look to the left of him, opened his throttle as though tolet in his clutch and closed it again, took off his side brake, andthen, just when I was pluming myself that we were through, what do youthink the fool does? Why, turns deliberately round and wakes thered-faced Baron. 

What passed between them I don't pretend to say, for the French went toand fro like lightning between summer clouds. But of this I amcertain: that there never was such a devilish smile as the old Baronturned on me when he got down from the tonneau and took a swift surveyof the scene as though sure already of his quarry. 

"Ah, " he cried, "here is our faithful friend once more. Good-day, Mr. Britten. I hope I see you well?"

"You see me next door to the devil, " said I--for out here on themountain side I didn't care a dump for him. Bluff, however, went fornothing that morning. I had met my match, and I knew it. 

"Britten, " says he, taking a big cigar from a case and lighting it withprovoking deliberation. "Shall we make a truce, Britten?"

"Make what you like, " says I. "This car has got to get to Paris tofetch my mistress. If a truce will do it, I'm taking some, right here. "

He smiled again, but so softly that I could have hit him. 

"Where is she hiding, Britten?" he asked, almost in a whisper. "Wherehas that very pretty lady chosen to conceal her charms? Come, tell me, my lad, and I'll give you five louis. What is the good of being sofoolish?"

I didn't answer a word, and he took another look all round the hills. Luckily, if there was one coppice, there were twenty in that gorge, andwhen I saw him walking away to the wrong one, I thought I should burstout laughing on the spot. That, I am glad to say, I did not do; butcalmly going on with my work, I had the new cover in presently and wasready to make a start. From that moment the drollery of thesituation--for it was droll, as I live--began in dead earnest, andlasted right through a hot summer's day--until dusk came down, in fact, and the issue was over for good and all. 

Can't you imagine just what happened, and see the irony of it all?Depict a great open chasm between the hills, little copses of pineseverywhere, and more than one thicket; a white road winding through thevalley, and two cars stuck up on that same. 

Say that there was a fat Baron trotting to and fro like a dog huntingfor rabbits; put down two tired and hungry chauffeurs, famished forwant of meat and cursing their fate; do this, and add that they sworeat both the sexes indifferently, and you'll have the thing to a tick. But I assure you that it's pleasanter to read about than to suffer; andany driver would admit as much. 

Good Lord, what a day it was! The fat Baron, I should tell you, didnot give up the hunt until near twelve o'clock; but when he hadsearched every thicket within a mile or more, he came back to us anddeliberately made himself comfortable inside his car. As for me, I didnot dare to move a step either way. If I had gone on, it would havebeen to have left Madame in the woods; while if I stayed, hestayed--and there you had it. And this game went on till dusk, mindyou, and would have gone on longer but for the instinct which came tome quite suddenly like a thought dropped from the skies: that herladyship had given us both the slip, after all, and would be alreadywhere the Baron Albert could not find her. This idea growing to anunalterable conviction decided me at last. I started my engine, mounted my box-seat, and without a word to either of them drovestraight away to Brignoles--thence, without a question from any one, toParis and my master. 

 * * * * *

It would have been three months afterwards that I received a letterfrom Madame, addressed from the yacht _Mostar_, then in Norwegianwaters. She sent me ten pounds for myself, and after telling me thatshe was cruising with Baron Albert and his sister--a piece of newswhich fairly took my breath away--she went on to remark that the trainservice from Brignoles to Aix is excellent, but that she preferred notto make the journey in a leather cap and a mackintosh. 

So, you see, I guessed in a moment that she had slipped away toBrignoles while we were talking about her that morning, and just takenthe early express to Aix without a word to anybody. We had been butthree kilometres from the town when the tyre burst, and so the journeycould hardly have fatigued her. 

As for her husband, the so-called Count Joseph, I heard in Parisafterwards that he wasn't her husband at all, but a rich youngHungarian noble she was trying desperately hard to marry. The CountAlbert had been sent to Monte Carlo by the young man's people toprotect him from this ambitious lady, and right well he appears to havedone the business, for he must have found her in Paris afterwards andoffered her the hospitality of his yacht. 

I hope his sister was on board; I do indeed hope so. 

But this is a rum world--and Lord, the scandal that some people willthink of makes me quite unhappy sometimes.