r route until she knew it by heart, and was just
burning to pilot us through Bordeaux and thence across Gascony.

"They're sure to make mistakes after Bordeaux. You know what the
sign-posts are like. And the road's really tricky. But I spent two
hours looking it up yesterday evening. I took you through Barbezieux
all right, didn't I?"

"Like a book, darling."

"Well, I can do that every time. And I daresay they'll have tire
trouble. Besides, the road's no worse for us than it is for them, and
after Bordeaux it'll probably be splendid. Of course we'll be there
before ten--we can't help it. I want to be there before Jonah. I've
got a hundred----"

"My dear," I expostulated, "I don't want to----"

"We've got a jolly good chance, any way. While you were getting her
right, I got the lunch, and we can eat that without stopping. You can
feed Berry. We'll gain half an hour like that."

Before such optimism I had not the face to point out that, if our
opponents had any sense at all, they had lunched before leaving
Angouleme.

"Here's a nice patch," added Adele. "Put her along, you two."

Spurred by her enthusiasm, we bent again to the oars.

Contrary to my expectation, my brother-in-law, if unusually silent, was
driving well. But the road was against him. He had not sufficient
experience to be able to keep his foot steady upon the accelerator when
a high speed and a rude surface conspired to dislodge it--a shortcoming
which caused us all three much discomfort and lost a lot of mileage.
Then, again, I dared not let him drive too close to the side of the
road. Right at the edge the surface was well preserved, and I knew
that Jonah's off wheels would make good use of it. Such finesse,
however, was out of Berry's reach. We pelted along upon what remained
of the crown painfully.

Seventy-three miles separate Bordeaux from Angouleme, and at the end of
two hours fifty-four of them lay behind us. All things considered,
this was extremely good, and when Adele suggested that we should eat
our lunch, I agreed quite cheerfully.

The suggestion, however, that I should feed Berry proved impracticable.

After four endeavours to introduce one end of a _petit pain_ into his
mouth--

"Would it be asking too much," said my brother-in-law, "if I suggested
that you should suspend this assault? I don't know what part of your
face you eat with, but I usually use my mouth. I admit it's a bit of a
rosebud, but that'