"
"Why did you leave your great-coat in the post-waggon?"
"Because it is hot."
"I shall have to arrest you," quoth the gendarme.
But his officer came from an adjoining building and told him not to make
a fool of himself, and on we went, taking short cuts, following the
telegraph poles, which staggered across country like a file of
drunkards.
Eventually the carriage caught us up and the driver insisted that we
should get in. He added that he could not lose all day while we walked,
and that he would never get to Mitrovitza; it seemed superfluous to
point out that we had gone quicker than he, but to avoid argument we
clambered in. The driver, in a temper, slashed his horses, and off we
went, over ruts and stones full speed ahead. It was like being in a
small boat in a smart cross-choppy sea, with little torpedoes exploding
beneath the keel at three minute intervals; and this road was marked on
the map as a first-class road; the mind staggers at what the second and
third-class must be like.
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