t teuf-teufing on again.

She is always a little uneasy with him, because, though he's a friend of
Sir Ralph Moray's, he's only a chauffeur, and she isn't quite sure
whether she oughtn't to patronize him a little to keep up her dignity
as a Countess. But it was a good sign that she should remember his name
for once. As for me, I've given him one for use behind his back, which
is to make up for his lack of a title, express his gorgeousness and
define his profession all at the same time. It is "Chauffeulier," and I
rather pride myself on it.

"It was only decent," he answered Mamma. "I love horses, and I've enough
imagination to guess pretty well how one feels when he's called upon to
face some unknown horror, with no sympathy from behind. It would have
been sheer brutality not to stop motor and all for that poor white chap.
He won't be as bad next time; and perhaps his master will have learned a
little common sense too. All the same, that kind of adventure spells
delay, and I hope this tunnel isn't infested with timid horses. Luckily,
the line seems all clear ahead."

A few minutes more, and looking before and after, we could see far away
two little oval pearls of daylight, one straight ahead, one straight
behind. It was like having one's foresight as good as one's hindsight;
which in real life, outside tunnels, would save a lot of disasters. Mr.
Barrymore explained that we'd reached the apex of two slopes, and now we
would be descending gradually.

It gave us a shock to burst out into the sunlight again by-and-by, but
it was a glorious shock, with a thrill as the dazzling white mountains
seemed to leap at our eyes.

If you speak of zigzags going up hill, oughtn't you to call them zagzigs
going down? Anyway, there they were, hundreds of them apparently,
looking something as a huge corkscrew might look if it had been laid on
a railroad track for a train to flatten.

We began to fly down, faster and faster, the motor making no noise at
all. At each turn of the corkscrew it seemed to me as if we must leap
over into space, and I felt as if I had been struck by lightning; but
always our chauffeur steered so as to give plenty of margin between our
tyres and the edge of the precipice; and by-and-by I was thoroughly
charged with electricity so that I ceased to be actually afraid. All I
felt was that my soul was covered with a very thin, sensitive skin.

"Oh, Mr. Terrymore, for mercy's sake, for _heaven's_ sake...!" wailed