The girl was
already in the tonneau. The man slipped in his clutch, and they glided
round the broad, circular sweep in front of the entrance. Just as they
started the wagonette drew up.
"We sha'n't be more than a few minutes," Mr. Fielding cried out, waving
his hand. "Sorry you've lost your day's sport."
"Hold on a minute, and I'll come with you," Runton called out. "That car
looks like going."
But Mr. Fielding did not hear.
* * * * *
Duncombe, who had returned from the park by the fields, was crossing the
road to enter his own gates, when a black speck far away on the top of
the hill attracted his attention. He stood still gazing at it, and was
instantly aware that it was approaching him at an almost incredible
speed. It gathered shape swiftly, and he watched it with a fascination
which kept him rooted to the spot. Above the wind he could hear the
throbbing of its engines. He saw it round a slight curve in the road,
with two wheels in the air, and a skid which seemed for a moment as
though it must mean destruction. Mud and small stones flew up around it.
The driver was crouching forward over the wheel, tense and motionless.
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