t's not impenetrable. But you
knew that."

With a light laugh she laid a hand on my arm.

"Don't be silly, lad, but put my shoe on again."

As I fitted it on, I heard footsteps in the yard outside.
Instinctively we both shrank back into the brougham. It was quite dark
now. Then a stable door grated and I heard a horse move.

"Who is it?" she whispered.

"Some ostler, I expect."

"What's he going to do?"

"I forget for the moment," said I. "I ought to know, too," I added
reflectively. "Wait a minute, I will consult the oracle."

So saying I made a pass or two and gazed intently into the gloom.

"Idiot," she murmured.

"Hush," I said. "Do not speak to the man at the wheel, and, above all,
refrain from disconcerting the beer---- I mean seer. What do I see?
A man--let him pass for a man--in motion. He moves. Yes," I said
excitedly, "yes, it is a stable. The man moves across the stable. Lo,
he leads forth a horse. There now." I turned to her triumphantly.
"The horse you fancy, madam, will also run, and the--ah--fee is one
guinea. You don't fancy any horse, madam? Ah, but you will. Very
soon too. Sooner, perhaps, than you---- But you can't help it, madam.
The crystal cannot lie. Pleasant weather we're having, aren't we? No,
I'm afraid I haven't change for a note, but I could send it on, madam.
On. On Monday you for instance--"

"Stop, stop," she said, laughing and putting a little hand on my wrist.
"Listen. Oh, I say."

A horse was undoubtedly led out of the stable. Breathlessly we heard
it come across the yard, and the next moment we felt rather than saw it
put between the shafts of our brougham.

My companion uttered a stifled cry and set a hand upon the door handle.

"Sit still, lass," I whispered; "for the love of Heaven, sit still.
He's going to drive us away."

"Oh, lad."

"We are in luck."

"But where are we going?"

"Heaven knows. But away from the bees, any way."

The horse was harnessed at last. The lamps were lighted--the while we
cowered in the depths of the brougham, the coachman mounted heavily
upon the box and we rolled slowly out of the yard.

Round to the left we swung, away from White Ladies, slowly into the
village and to the left again. I kept my companion informed as to our
whereabouts.

"That's right," I said, "there's the butcher's. Splendid meat he
sells--I beg his pardon--purveys. Wears wonderfully well. Always
follows the hounds on one of hi