Jonah and Co. Yates Dornford
wholly ridiculous. However, since they're also legal tender, I suppose I may as well try and sort them out. What I really need is some rubber gloves and a box-respirator. Hullo! Just catch that one, will you? He's seen that dog over there. … You know, I'm not at all sure that they get enough air in my pocket. I suppose we couldn't get a hutch for the more advanced ones. I mean, I don't want to be cruel."
Again Jonah looked at his watch.
"We have now," he said, "wasted fifty-six minutes in——"
"Excuse me," said Berry, "but isn't this touching? Here's affectionate Albert." With the words, he laid a two-franc note tenderly upon my sleeve. "Now, I bet you don't get him off without tearing him."
Disgustedly I managed to detach Albert, who instantly adhered to my fingers.
There was a shriek of laughter.
"Stick to him," said Berry. "I've lost the bet."
The injunction was unnecessary.
After Albert had clung once to Adèle's—happily, gloved—fingers and twice to each of my hands, I trod upon him. Some of Albert was still upon my boot that evening at Angoulême.
"For the last time," said Jonah, "I appeal to you all to let that dog-eared mountebank rake over his muck-heap, and attend to me."
My brother-in-law addressed Adèle.
"It is," he said, "a discreditable but incontrovertible fact that saints have always been reviled. I suppose it's jealousy." He turned to his wife. "By the way, did you pack my aureola? I left it hanging on the towel-rail."
"If," said Daphne, "you're referring to your body-belt, it's with your bed-socks."
"And why not between your flannel vests?" said her husband. "The grey ones we found at Margate, I mean. With the imitation bone buttons. Ah, here we are. Now, if half a franc's no earthly, what'll who give me for two-thirds of fifty centimes?"
Jonah sank into a chair and closed his eyes.
"Look here," said I desperately. "Once for all, are we going to stay at Bordeaux, or are we going right through?"
"I think we'd all rather go right through," said Jill.
"I know I would," said her brother. "And if Boy's leg was all right, I shouldn't hesitate. I'll answer for Ping. But, frankly, with Berry driving, I doubt if Pong'll fetch up. I mean, two hundred and twenty-two miles takes some biting off."
There was a pregnant silence. Then—
"He'll never do it," said Daphne.
Her husband, who was still busy with his paper, looked up defiantly. Then he took a thousand-franc note and laid it apart from its fellows upon the table.
"I will wager that shekel," he said deliberately, "that, with a start of one hour to-morrow, Pong reaches Pau before Ping."
There was a gasp of astonishment.
"Done," said Jonah. "What's more, I'll bet you another you don't get in before ten."
Berry raised his eyes to heaven.
"An insult," he said. "Never mind. Your dross shall wipe it out. I take you."
"And I," said I, not to be outdone, "will put another on Pong for the double."
I felt that my honour was involved. After all, if I had not trained the mount, I was training the jockey.
"Right," said Jonah. "Will you both pay me now, or wait till you're out of hospital?"
"I think," said I, "we'll have a run for our money."
The bets were made, and there was an end of it. But when we were again in the car, and my brother-in-law was threading his way out of Tours, I began to repent my rashness.
Considering that, when he took the wheel at Boulogne, Berry had had only three lessons in the management of a car, he had done most creditably. My brother-in-law was no fool. Moreover, on leaving Rouen, he and I had joined forces. Sitting beside him in the coupé, I had driven the car with his hands—after a little practice—with astonishing results. In two days we had, we prided ourselves, raised such collaboration from the ranks of the Mechanical to the society of the Fine Arts. My part was comparatively easy. Sinking his initiative he had more nearly converted himself into an intelligent piece of mechanism than I would have believed possible. It would, of course, be vain to suggest that Pong would not have gone faster if I had been able to drive with my own hands, or Berry had had my experience. Still, we had come very well, and with a start of a whole hour and a little luck. … Another point in our favour was that Adèle, who with Nobby completed our crew, had a pronounced gift for map-reading. She had an eye to country. She seemed to be able to scent the line we ought to take. The frequent treachery of signposts she laughed to scorn. Upon the morrow her confident assistance would be invaluable. …
What, when I made my bet, I had entirely forgotten, was that we were not always upon the open road. There was the rub. From Angoulême to Pau towns would have to be penetrated—among them Bordeaux itself—and in the towns our system had broken down. In a crowded street, though I could still administer, Berry could not execute. When I endeavoured to allow for his inexperience of traffic, I found it impossible accurately to gauge his capabilities. After a failure or two, it had been agreed that he should negotiate such streets as we encountered without my interference. … Of my haste to support Pong's honour, I had forgotten the towns.
With years of practice behind us, Jonah and I could thrust through traffic, happy enough with an odd inch to spare. Naturally enough, Berry had no such confidence. An inch was of no use to him. He must have a good ell, and more also, before he would enter a gap. In the trough of a narrow street he laboured heavily. … There was no doubt about it. The towns through which we should have to pass on Wednesday would settle our chances. My money was as good as gone.
It seemed equally probable that Berry would save his stake. Barring accidents of the grosser sort, if we started betimes, we were bound to reach Pau before ten. Such a protasis robbed the bet of its savour. With a thousand francs at stake, it would be foolish not to take reasonable care. And the taking of reasonable care would all but eliminate the element of uncertainty. … There was no getting away from it. Of the two wagers, only the first was worth winning. To reach Pau before Jonah would be a veritable triumph.
Moodily I communicated my reflections to Adèle.
"I thought it was rather rash at the time," she replied. "But I think there's a sporting chance."
"That's right," said Berry. "Put your money on uncle. With enough encouragement I can do anything."
"Permit me to encourage you to blow your horn," said I. "That child in front of you is too young to die." My brother-in-law obeyed. "All the same, I'm afraid we're for it. It isn't so much a question of pace, pure and simple, for Jonah's a careful driver. But his street work is beautiful."
Berry sighed.
"I suppose he'd pass between those two waggons," he said sarcastically.
"He would," said I.
"I don't think you quite see where I mean," said Berry, pointing. "I mean along that temporary passage, which would admit a small perambulator."
As he spoke, Ping brushed past us, slipped between the two wains, and disappeared.
Berry stared after it in silence. At length—
"I withdraw," he said. "I'm not a conjurer. If everybody stood well back I used to be able to produce an egg, broken or unbroken according to the temperature of my hands, from a handkerchief about six feet square. People were very nice about it, very nice. But an inability to introduce a quart into a pint pot has always been among my failings. Don't say I've got to turn to the left here, because I can't bear it."
"No," said Adèle, smiling. "Straight on."
"What—past the steam roller? How very touching! Excuse me, messieurs, but would