er ladyship is in such a nervous state that I don't care to put any
more doubts into her head. She's made up her mind what she wants, and
we'd better let it go at that."

If I'd been near enough to my brother I should have stamped on his foot,
or seized some other forcible method of suggesting that he should kindly
hold his tongue. As it was, my only hope lay in an imploring look, which
he did not catch. However, in pity for Sir Samuel he said no more; and
before we were three minutes older, if her ladyship had yearned to have
me back, it would have been too late. We were off together, and another
day had been given to us for ours.

The chauffeur proposed that I should sit inside the car; but I had
regained all my courage in the hot inn-kitchen. I was not cold, and
didn't feel as if I should ever be cold again.

The road mounted almost continuously. Sometimes, as we looked ahead, it
seemed to have been broken off short just in front of the car, by some
dreadful earth convulsion; but it always turned out to be only a sudden
dip down, or a sharp turn like the curve of an apple-paring. At last we
had reached the highest peak of the Roof of France--a sloping,
snow-covered roof; but steep as was the slant, very little of the snow
appeared to have slipped off.

The Cevennes on our right loomed near and bleak; the Auvergne stretched
endlessly before us, and the virgin snow, pure as edelweiss, was
darkened in the misty distance by patches of shadow, purple-blue, like
beds of early violets.

At first but a thin white sheet was spread over our road, but soon the
lace-like fabric was exchanged for a fleecy blanket, then a thick quilt
of down, and the motor began to pant. The winds seemed to come from all
ways at once, shrieking like witches, and flinging their splinters of
ice, fine and small as broken needles, against our cheeks. Still I would
not go inside. I could not bear to be warm and comfortable while Jack
faced the cold alone. I knew his fingers must be stiff, though he
wouldn't confess to any suffering, and I wished that I knew how to drive
the car, so that we might have taken turns, sitting with our hands in
our pockets.

In the deepening snow we moved slowly, the wheels slipping now and then,
unable to grip. Then, on a steep incline, there came a report like a
revolver shot. But it didn't frighten me now. I knew it meant a
collapsed tyre, not a concealed murderer; but there couldn't have been a
much worse place f