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

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

It was touching to hear him, upon my word it was; but I held my tongue
for Miss Dolly's sake, and went to work quietly to take off the cover
and examine the tube for the cut I didn't mean to find. When I told
him presently that this was the last tube we had, and he'd better give
me two pound eight to go and buy a new one, I thought his language
would blow the ships out of the harbour; but he never gave me the
money, and then I knew that he meant to stay at Dover all night, and
that 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, and
perhaps find Mr. Sarand at the station to meet her."

I slept upon this--for you will understand that Moss had no real
intention of going on that night, after he heard about the tubes--and
at nine o'clock next morning I had my car ready, and drove her round to
the "Lord Warden." The run to Sandwich is not over-exciting in an
ordinary way, but I found it quite lively enough on that particular
occasion, when there were all sorts of doubts and fears in my head
about Miss Dolly, and the sure and certain knowledge that I should get
the sack whatever happened. Indeed, I might properly have been more
anxious about myself than the lady, for I never doubted that she would
have made a bolt for London by the time we arrived, and there was no
more disappointed man in Thanet when, on reaching the inn, Biggs told
me that she was still at the house. An inquiry whether he had
delivered my letter met with the amazing response that they had given
him no letter, and when I rushed into the house to ask what had become
of it, there it was, on the mantelshelf of the bar-parlour, just where
I had left it. Never did a man meet with a worse blow. I knew then
th