ust I shall be out of
earshot. _Au revoir, mon ami. Ne faites-pas attention au monsieur
avec le nez rouge dans l'auto. Il est grise._"

The reverent look with which Herbert favoured me, as he returned to his
oxen, I shall never forget. Clearly, to be in the arms of Dionysus by
eleven o'clock in the morning was arguing at once an affluence and a
discretion which were almost sacred.

"Ah," said Berry, making his appearance, "you're awake, are you? I've
just finished. Herbert's been watching me. Have you got the
beer-opener there? It's--it's tiring work."

"What is?" said I grimly. "Instructing?"

"That's it," said my brother-in-law. "I explained as I went along.
Herbert was most interested. A little dense, you know, but such a nice
fellow. He thinks the world of you. Now, I think the beer-opener's in
the left-hand----"

"In you get," said I, starting the engine. "Philanthropy and beer
don't go together."

With his foot upon the step, Berry regarded me.

"I should like Herbert's ruling on that," he said. "Besides, I've got
a thirst which is above rubies."

"Think what it'll be like by lunch-time," said Jill. "Besides," she
added, searching for her bag, "I've got some acid drops somewhere."

With an unearthly shriek Berry clawed at his temples.... For a moment
he rocked to and fro agonisedly. Then he climbed heavily into the car.

As he sank back against the cushions--

"Murderess," he said. "And it was the best I've had since Egypt."

* * * * *

Two hours later we ran into Montrejeau, crept by its exquisite
market--roofed and pillared and carrying its four hundred years as they
were forty--dropped down a wicked hill, and swept over an infant
Garonne on to the Luchon road.

Before we had covered five kilometres we sighted our goal.

'A city that is set on a hill cannot be hid.'

Out of the blowing meadows rose up an eminence. But for the snow-clad
heights beyond, you would have called it a mountain. Its slopes were
timbered, and if there was a road there, this could not be seen. High
up above the trees was a city wall, standing out boldly, as ramparts
should. Within the wall, still higher, were houses, white, ancient,
stern-faced. And there, clear above them all, perched upon the very
point of the hill, towered a cathedral. The size of it turned the city
into a close. Its site, its bulwarks, however, turned the church into
a castle. Here was an abbot f