The Brother of Daphne Part 58

"He's a bit of a nut, isn't he?" said I.

"Do you think he's quite safe?"

"Rather! Besides, I shall be with you."

"That's not saying much."

"Thank you. And talking of gurnats--"

"Where will you take me?"

"Whithersoever she listed."

"Is it far from here to Tendon Harrow?"

"About sixteen miles."

"Would you mind, Hare?"

"You know I'd love it."

I started up Pomfret, and we settled ourselves in the car. As luck would have it, I had a second coat with me, and she said she was quite warm and comfortable.

Presently she told me all that had happened. In the morning she had ridden alone to hounds. The meet had been at Will Cross. The mare was keen, and for a few miles all went well. Then the hounds had split.

Most of the field had followed the master, but she and a few others had followed the huntsman. After a while she had dropped a little behind.

Then there had been a check. She had seized upon the opportunity it afforded her to slip off and tighten her girths.

"Wasn't there any man there to--"

"Wait. The next second the hounds picked up the scent again, and, before I knew where I was, the mare had jerked the bridle out of my hand and was half-way across the first field."

"And didn't anyone catch her?"

"The man who caught her is a brute. He would have wanted to tighten my girths for me, and that's why I dropped behind. I felt it would be him, so I slid out of sight behind a hedge, and when I saw it was him coming back with her, I didn't want his smile, so I just ran into the woods and started to walk home."

"Did he see you?"

"No. He may be there still, for all I know."

"He must have been having a roaring time leading the mare about all day."

"I hope it'll teach him not to pester a girl again."

I sighed. "Some of us are brutes, aren't we?"

"Yes."

A pause. Then:

"But some men have been very nice to me."

"The devil they have!" said I.

Here, as certain of our own writers say and have said, a gurgle of delight escaped her. I leaned forward and grabbed at something, caught and handed it to her. She stared at my empty palm.

"Your gurgle, I think."

"Oh," she said, laughing, "you are mad. But I like you. Now, why is that?"

"Personal charm," said I. "The palmist who sits where the draughts are in the Brown Park Hotel, West Central, said I had a magnetism of my own."

"There you are. I never believed in palmistry."

"She also told me to beware of lifts, and a fellow trod on one of my spats in the one at Dover Street the very next morning. Hullo!"

Pomfret slowed gradually down and stopped. I turned to the girl.

"This is what we pay the boy sixteen shillings a week for."

"What's the matter?"

"Petrol's run out. I'm awfully sorry. The silly serf must have forgotten to fill up before I started."

"My dear Hare, what shall we do?"

I made a rapid calculation.

"We can't be more than a quarter of a mile from Fell. In fact, I'm almost sure it's at the foot of the next hill. Yes, I know it is. And if we can get Pomfret to the crest of this rise, it's all down-hill from there to the village. Shall we try, Alice?"

"Rather!"

She got out, and I followed. Fortunately the slope was a gentle one, and, without much of the harder labour, we managed to top the rise.

Then we got in again, and began to descend the hill. When the brakes failed, one after another, I was, if possible, more pained than surprised. I rebuked Pomfret and turned to my companion:

"Do you mind making ready to die?" I said. "I'm sorry, but if we don't take the next corner, I'm afraid we shall be what is called 'found later'."

We took it on two wheels, and I then ran Pomfret's near front wheel on to the low bank by the side of the road.

"Put your arms round my neck," I cried.

She did so, and the next moment we plunged into the bushes. I heard a wing snap, and the car seemed to mount a little into the air; then we stopped at a nasty angle, for the off hind wheel was yet in the channel. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then, still grasping the wheel, I looked down at my left shoulder.

"I love Harris tweeds," said the girl quietly. "It's just as well, isn't it?"

All things considered, it was. Her nose was embedded in the cloth about two inches above my left breast-pocket. In silence I kissed her hair four times. Then:

"I confess," I said, that the real blue-black hair has always been a weakness of mine.