me along." I altered my tone. "Chaste and
beautiful one, dost thou realize that at this rate we shall reach
Gretna next Tuesday week?"

"So soon, Jack?"--languishingly.

"Glorious," said I: "that is, aye, mistress. Remember, I have six
spare axles disguised as golf clubs."

"But what of my father? His grey hairs--"

"When I last saw thine aged sire, pipkin, three postboys were engaged
in sawing him out of a window, through which he should never have
attempted to climb. The angle of his chaise suggested that one of the
hind wheels was, to put it mildly, somewhat out of the true. The fact
that, before we started, I myself withdrew its linchpin goes to support
this theory."

"My poor father! Master Adam, I almost find it in my heart to hate
you."

"Believe me, fair but haughty, the old fool has taken no hurt. Distant
as we were, I could hear his oaths of encouragement, while the
post-boys sawed as they had never sawed before. From the way they were
doing it, I shouldn't think they ever had."

"But they will soon procure a new linchpin. Is that right? And, oh,
Adam, they may be here any moment."

"Not so, my poppet. To get a linchpin, they must find a smith. All
the smiths within a radius of thirty miles are drunk. Yes, me again.
A man has to think of all these little things. I say, we're giving the
walls the time of their life, aren't we? Have another cigarette?"

"After which I must go to bed."

"As you please, Mistress Eve," said I, reaching for a live coal to give
her a light.

For a little space we sat silent, watching the play of the flames.
Then she spoke slowly, half her thoughts elsewhere:

"You never told me your fairy tale, Adam."

"I expect you know it," said I. "It's all about the princess a fellow
found in the snow, and how he took her to his home for shelter, and set
her on her way in the morning, and then spent his poor life trying to
find her again. Anyway, one doesn't tell fairy-tales to fairies,
and--and I'd rather you watched the fire. He'll tell you a finer story
than ever I could. At least--"

"Yes?"

"Well, he's a bold fellow, the fire. He'll say things that I can't,
Eve. He'll praise, thank, bless you all in a flash. See what he says
for a moment. Remember he's speaking for me."

"Praise, thank, bless," she repeated dreamily. "Does he ever ask
anything in return?"

"Never," said I.

For a full moment she sat gazing into the flames. Then she flung her
c