do not wish to be benighted on this heath. The
wretch uppermost is the coachman."

"I might part them, perhaps," said Desmond dubiously. "Of course I will
try, ma'am."

"Sure I wouldn't trust 'em, mamma," called the younger lady from the
horses' heads. "The man is too drunk to drive."

"I fear 'tis so. 'Tis not our own man, sir. As we returned today from a
visit to Taplow our coachman was trampled by a horse at Slough, and my
husband stayed with him--an old and trusty servant--till he could consult
a surgeon. We found a substitute at the inn to drive us home. But the
wretch brought a bottle; he drank with the footman all along the road;
and now, as you see, they are at each other's throats in their drunken
fury. Sure we shall never get home in time for the rout we are bid to."

"Shall I drive you to London, ma'am?" said Desmond, "'Twere best to leave
the men to settle their differences."

"But can you drive?"

"Oh, yes," replied Desmond, with a smile. "I am used to horses."

"Then I beg you to oblige us. Yes, let the wretches fight themselves
sober.

"Phyllis, this gentleman will drive us; come."

The girl--a fair, rosy cheeked, merry-eyed damsel of fifteen or
thereabouts--left the horses' heads and entered the carriage with her
mother. Desmond made a rapid examination of the harness to see that all
was right; then he mounted the box and drove off. The noise of the
rumbling wheels penetrated the besotted intelligence of the struggling
men; they scrambled to their feet, looked wildly about them, and set off
in pursuit. But they had no command of their limbs; they staggered
clumsily this way and that, and finally found their level in the slimy
ditch that flanked the road.

Desmond whipped up the horses in the highest spirits. He had hoped for a
lift in a farmer's cart; fortune had favored him in giving him four
roadsters to drive himself. And no boy, certainly not one of his romantic
impulses, but would feel elated at the idea of helping ladies in
distress, and on a spot known far and wide as the scene of perilous
adventure.

The carriage was heavy; the road, though level, was thick with autumn
mud; and the horses made no great speed. Desmond, indeed, durst not urge
them too much, for the mist was thickening, making the air even darker
than the hour warranted; and as the roadway had neither hedge nor wall to
define it, but was bounded on each side by a ditch, it behooved him to go
warily.

He had