Duncombe moved to the side of the road to let it pass, with a little
exclamation of anger.
Then it came more clearly into sight, and he forgot his anger in his
amazement. The seat next the driver was occupied by a man leaning far
back, whose face was like the face of the dead. Behind was a solitary
passenger. She was leaning over, as though trying to speak to her
companion. Her hair streamed wild in the wind, and on her face was a
look of blank and fearful terror. Duncombe half moved forward. She saw
him, and touched the driver's arm. His hand seemed to fly to the side of
the car, and his right foot was jammed down. With grinding of brakes and
the screaming of locked wheels, the car was brought to a standstill
within a few feet of him. He sprang eagerly forward. She was already
upon her feet in the road.
"Sir George," she said, "your warning, as you see, was barely in time.
We are adventurer and adventuress--detected. I suppose you are a
magistrate. Don't you think that you ought to detain us?"
"What can I do to help you?" he asked simply.
She looked at him eagerly. There were mud spots all up her gown, even
upon her face.
Pages:
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184