-"

I helped her to her feet and set the lamp on the front seat. Then I
bade her stand in the doorway while I wrapped the rug about her.

"I'm afraid I can't dig you a pathway, so I'm going to carry you to my
car. I used to be able to delve once--"

"When Who was a gentleman?"

"Exactly. And you span. But I'm out of practice now. Besides, I left
my niblick in London. Come along. Don't be frightened if I slip. I
shan't go down. Yes, I'll come back for your dressing-case."

The next moment she was in my arms, and three minutes later we were
making for Fallow at nearer thirty than twenty miles an hour.

As we ran into the village, I heard the church clock chime the
half-hour. Half-past four. We had come well. A moment later I had
stopped at the old inn's door. Except for a flickering light, visible
between the curtains of the Cromwell room, the place was in darkness.
I clambered stiffly out and felt for the key I had asked for. A Yale
lock in the studded door! Never mind. This door is only a
reproduction. The original probably shuts off some pantry from some
servants' hall in New York City. However. When I had switched on a
course of lights, I went back to the car and opened the door. Have I
said that it was a cabriolet?

"Eve," said I. No answer, I took the lamp once more and flooded the
car with light. In the far corner, still wrapped in the rugs, my lady
lay fast asleep. With some difficulty I got her into my arms. On the
threshold I met Thomas, our waiter. He had little on but a coat and
trousers, and there was slumber in his eyes.

"I didn't wait up, sir," he explained, "but, hearing the car, I just
come down to see you'd got everything. Miss Mansel asleep, sir?"

I stared at him for a moment and then looked down at the charge in my
arms. A corner of the rug had fallen over her face. Thomas, naturally
enough, thought it was Jill.

"Er--yes," said I. "She's tired, you know. And you'd better not let
her see you. She'll be awfully angry to think you got up for us. You
know what she said."

Thomas laughed respectfully. I passed up the stairs, and he followed.
"I'll only open the door and see that the fire's all right, sir," he
said. I placed my burden gently on the sofa, away from the light of
the fire.

"You'll let me light the candles, sir?"

"Not a farthing dip, Thomas. Miss Mansel may wake any moment. You can
come and open the coach-house door, if you like."

"V