d-lime type of mud peculiar to French military
roads in the Alpes Maritimes--while a zealous detective might have
found traces of the black and greasy deposit that collects on the door
handles and side rails of P. L. M. railway carriages. Medenham
borrowed it because of the intolerable heat of the leather jacket. Its
distinctive character became visible when he viewed it in the June
sunshine, and he wore it as a substitute for sackcloth, since he, no
less than Cynthia, recognized that a dangerous acquaintance was
drawing to an end. So Dale's coat imposed a shield, as it were,
between the two, but the man drove with little heed to the witching
scenery that Dorset unfolded at each turn of the road, and the woman
sat distrait, almost downcast.

Mrs. Devar was smugly complacent. Difficulties that loomed large
overnight were now vague shadows. When the Mercury stopped in front of
a comfortable inn at Yeovil it was she, and not Cynthia, who suggested
a social departure.

"This seems to be the only place in the town where luncheon is
provided. You had better leave the car in charge of a stableman, and
join us, Fitzroy," she said graciously.

"Thank you, madam," said Medenham, rousing himself from a reverie, "I
prefer to remain here. The hotel people will look after my slight
wants, as I dislike the notion of anyone tampering with the engine
while I am absent."

"Is it so delicate, then?" asked Cynthia, with a smile that he hardly
understood, since he could not know how thoroughly he had routed Mrs.
Devar's theories of the previous night.

"No, far from it. But its very simplicity challenges examination, and
an inquisitive clodhopper can effect more damage in a minute than I
can repair in an hour."

His gruff tone was music in Mrs. Devar's ears. She actually sighed her
relief, but explained the lapse instantly.

"I do hope there is something nice to eat," she said. "This wonderful
air makes one dreadfully hungry. When our tour is ended, Cynthia, I
shall have to bant for months."

The fare was excellent. Under its stimulating influence Miss Vanrenen
forgot her vapors and elected for the front seat during the run to
Glastonbury. Medenham thawed, too. By chance their talk turned to
wayside flowers, and he let the Mercury creep through a high-banked
lane, all ablaze with wild roses and honeysuckle, while he pointed out
the blue field scabious, the pink and cream meadow-sweet, the
samphire, the milk-wort and the columbine