The Princess Passes Volume 56 by Alice Muriel Williamson, Charles Norris Williamson (great book club books .txt) 📕

And So On To Paris By Le Pecq, Reuil, The Long Descent To The Pont De

Suresnes (Which Seemed To Hold Laughable Memories For Jack And Molly),

Through The Bois Down The Champs Elysées, And To Our Hotel In The

Place Vendôme, Where Jack Announced That We Had Had A Run Of 130

Miles. Winston And I Flattered Ourselves That Paris Had Few Secrets

From Us (Though I Don't Doubt That Five Minutes' Wrestling With

Baedeker Might Have Made Us Feel Small), And We Had No Wish To Linger

At This Season. But, If We Were Deaf To The Sirens Who Sing In The Rue

De La Paix, Molly Was Not. She Had Discovered That There Were Some

"Little Things She Wanted, Which She Really Thought She Had Better

Buy." I Fancy That The Little Things Were Shoes; Anyhow, It Was To Be

Jack's Blissful Privilege To Help Her Choose Them, And He Was Of

Opinion (Probably Founded On Experience) That It Would Take Nearly

All Day. I Decided To Call On A Man At The Embassy, Ask Him Out To

Lunch, And Do Him Very Well. I Had Not Seen Him For Years, And He Had

Bored Me To Extinction The Last Time We Met; But It Had Come To My

Ears That He Had Been In Love With Helen Blantock, And Proposed To

Her, So I Felt That There Would Be A Certain Charm In His Society.

Later, There Was A "Little Thing" Which I, Too, Wished To Buy (Though

I Did Not Intend To Seek It In The Rue De La Paix), And Then I Was To

Meet Molly And Jack About Tea Time At Our Hotel, In Time To Arrange

For Dining Out Somewhere.

After All, The Man Was More Boring Than Ever, As He Had Got Himself

Engaged To Another Girl, And Insisted Upon Talking Of Her, Instead Of

Helen. My One Pleasure In The Day, Therefore, Lay In Purchasing The

Article Of Which I Had Fixed My Mind After Driving Yesterday. This Was

A Water Pistol, Warranted To Keep Dogs At Bay, In Motoring. I Had Some

Difficulty In Obtaining It, And When I Did, It Was Expensive, But I

Was Rewarded By The Thought Of The Pleasure My Acquisition Would

Afford My Friends. The Wild Dashes Of Dogs In Front Of The Wheels Gave

Molly Such Frequent Starts Of Anguish, That I Wondered Jack Had Not

Thought Of This Simple Preventive, And I Congratulated Myself On

Having Remembered An Advertisement Of The Weapon Which I Had Seen In

Some Magazine. It Was, I Thought, Rather Clever Of Me To Remember,

Since In Those Days Motors Had Been No Affair Of Mine; But Then, The

Illustration Had Been Striking, In Every Sense Of The Word. It Had

Represented A Lovely Girl, With Hair Unbound, Saving From Destruction

The Automobile In Which She Sat With Several Companions, By Shooting A

Fierce Blast Of Water Into The Face Of A Huge Beast Well-Nigh As

Terrible As Cerberus. I Determined To Surprise Jack And Molly, When

The Right Time Should Come; Accordingly, The Moment I Reached Our

Hotel, I Filled The Pistol With Water, And Placed It, Thus Loaded, In

The Pocket Of My Motoring Coat Ready For Emergencies. Hardly Had I

Made This Preparation For The Future When I Discovered On The Table A

Note Addressed To Me In Winston's Handwriting.

"Dear Monty," I Read, "Molly And I Have A Bet On. She Has Bet Me A

Dinner That You Will Drive Her Car Out To Madrid, And Meet Us At

Half-Past Seven, So That We Can Have The Dinner By Daylight. I Have

Bet Her The Same Dinner That You Won't. Which Of Us Must Pay?--Yours,

Jack."

I Whistled. What, Drive The Car Through The Traffic Of Paris? It Must

Be A Joke. Of Course It Was A Joke, But----

When I Had Dressed For Dinner, I Strolled Over To The Garage Not Far

Away Where The Creature Lurked. Anyhow, I Would Have A Look At Her,

And See What Orders Gotteland Had Received. Yes, Of Course It Was A

Joke. Or Else My Poor Friends Had Gone Mad. Still, There Was A Kind Of

Madness With Method In It. Diabolical Wretches, With Their Bets, And

Their Dinners! Did They Dream I Would Try To Do It, And Smash The Car?

"Nothing Like Driving A Motor Through Traffic, To Give One

Self-Confidence Afterwards," Jack Had Said Yesterday, After Praising

Me For Refraining From Killing A Small Boy In A Village Street. "Once

A Man Has Been Thrown On His Own Resources, And Has Got Through The

Ordeal All Right, It Is As Good As A Certificate," He Had Added.

Gotteland Was In The Shrine Of His Goddess, Talking To Other

Cosmopolitan-Looking Persons In Leather. There Was A Nice Smell Of

Petrol In The Place. I Snuffed At It As A War-Horse Scents The Battle,

And Promptly Decided That The Joke Should Become Deadly Earnest, No

Matter What The Consequence To The Cart The Chauffeur, Or Myself.

"Everything Is Ready, My Lord," Said One Of The Sacrifices About To Be

Offered Up. He Had Now Discovered That There Was A Sort Of

Starting-Handle To My Name, And Seemed As Fond Of Using It As He Was

Of The Equivalent On His Beloved Motor.

"Did Mr. Winston--Er--Say Anything About My Driving?" I Humbly

Inquired.

"Well, My Lord, His Orders Were That It Should Be As You Pleased. But

Perhaps I Had Better Mention That Driving Is Careless In Paris, With

Cabs And Automobiles All Over The Road, To Say Nothing Of The Trams;

And Then There's The Keeping To The Right Instead Of The Left. If You

Should Happen To Get A Little Confused, My Lord, Not Being Accustomed

To Drive In France----"

"I Wish I Had A _Mille_ Note For Every Time I've Driven A Four-In-Hand

Through This Blessed Town," Said I. "I'm Not Afraid If You're Not."

"Oh, My Lord, I've Been In So Many Accidents, One Or Two More Can't

Matter," He Replied, As Hercules Might Have Replied If Asked Whether

He Were Equal To A Thirteenth Labour In Odd Moments. "When I Was

Jockey In Count Tokai's Racing Stables, A Horse Went Mad And Kicked Me

Nearly To Death. Then I Was A Racer In Old Bicycling Days, And Had

Several Bad Spills. This Scar On My Face I Got In A Smash With One Of

The First Benz Cars Made. My Master Thought It A Fine Thing At That

Time To Go Ten Miles An Hour, And Before He'd Driven Much, My Lord,

He Was Determined To Take The Car Through The Streets Of Düsseldorf

Himself. There Was A Wagon Coming One Way----"

"Thank You," I Cut In, "I'll Bear The Rest Of That Story Another Time.

I'm Not Sure It Would Exhilarate Me Much At The Moment. We'll Be Off

Now, And I'll Do My Best Not To Adorn You With A Second Scar."

Without Another Word, Gotteland Started The Motor. The Critical Eyes

Of The Assembled Chauffeurs Pierced To My Marrow, But I Squared My

Shoulders, Prayed My Presence Of Mind To Behave Itself And Not Get

Stage Fright; Then--_Noblesse Oblige!_--We Swept In A Creditable Curve

To The Door Of The Garage, And Out In Fine Style. Gotteland Also Tried

To Look Unconcerned. I Think I Must Have Seen This With My Ears, As

Both Eyes Were Fully Occupied In Searching A Way Through The Surging

Current Of Street Traffic, But I Did See It. I Was Pleased To Find

That I Was The Better Actor Of The Two, For Gotteland's Attitude

Revealed A Strained Alertness. He Was Like A Woman Sitting Beside A

Driver Of Skittish Horses, Saying To Herself: "No, I _Won't_ Scream Or

Seize The Reins Till I Must!"

A Sneaking Impulse Pricked Me To Take The Easiest Way, By The Rue De

Rivoli, And Across The Place De La Concorde, But I Shook Myself Free

Of It, And With High Resolve Turned The Car Towards The Boulevards,

Determined That, If Molly Won Her Bet, It Should Be Well Won. A Sailor

Steering A Quivering Smack Towards Harbour In A North Sea Hurricane;

An Indian Guiding A Bark Canoe Through The Leaping Rapids Of A Swollen

River: To Both Of These I Likened Myself As The Dragon Threaded In And

Out Among The Adverse Streams Of Traffic. The Great Crossing By The

Opéra Was A Whirling Maelstrom; A Policeman With A White Staff,

Scowled When He Should Have Pitied; I Felt Alone In Chaos Before The

Creation Of The World. As For Noah And His Ark, Not An Experience

Could He Have Had That I Might Not Have Capped It Before I Reached The

Bois.

If I Have A Guardian Spirit, I Am Sure That To Numberless Other Good

Qualities He Adds The Skill Of An Accomplished Motorist; For If He Did

Not Get The Car To Madrid, Without A Single Scratch Upon Her Brilliant

Body, I Do Not Know Who Did. I Have No Distinct Memories, After The

First, Yet When We Arrived At Our Destination, Gotteland Generously

Complimented, And As I Did Not Care To Go Into Psychological

Explanations, I Accepted His Eulogium. It Was Jack, Not Molly, Who

Paid For The Dinner At Madrid, And It Was A Good One.

Next Morning Early We Started On Our Way Again. Jack Driving, And I

Watching His Prowess. I Was Now As Anxious To Meet Dogs Belligerently

Inclined Towards Motors, As I Had Been To Avoid Them, But It Was Not

Until We Were Well Past Fontainebleau That The Chance For Which I

Yearned, Arrived. Suddenly We Came Upon A Yard Of Dachshund Wandering

Lizard-Like Across The Road, Accompanied By A Pert Spitz. The Waddler

Prudently Retired, But The Spitz, With All The Disproportionate

Courage Of A Knight Of Old Attacking A Fire-Breathing Dragon, Lanced

Himself In Front Of The Car. After All, What Are Dragons But Strange,

New Things Which We Know Nothing About And Therefore Detest? This

Brave Little Knight Detested Us, And With Magnificent Self-Confidence

Essayed To Punish Us For Troubling His Existence.

My Hand Flew To My Pocket, But Paused, Even As It Grasped The Water

Pistol. The Dog Was Small, The Weapon Large. A Fierce Jet Of Water

Propelled From Its Muzzle Might Blow The Breath From That Tiny Body,

Which My Sole Wish Was