be obeyed when they can't
be directed into other channels. We stopped only long enough for an
omelette, and passed on after a mere glimpse of close-huddled houses
(with three heads for every window, staring at the motor) and a
cathedral with an exquisite doorway. Then we were out of the town,
spinning on through the wild, unreal-looking country towards Spalato.

"What new ground for honeymooners!" exclaimed Sir Ralph, enchanted with
everything, in his half-boyish, half-cynical way. "I shall recommend it
in _The Riviera Sun_ for a wedding trip _en automobile_. Shouldn't you
like to do it, Miss Beechy--dawdling, not scorching?"

"I think when I get married," Beechy replied judicially, "I shan't want
to _go_ anywhere. I shall just _stay_ somewhere for a change."

"It's early to decide," remarked Sir Ralph.

"I don't know. It's always well to be prepared," said Beechy, with the
enigmatical look she sometimes puts on, which (in spite of her
ankle-short dresses and knee-long tails of hair) makes her appear at
least sixteen.

Beyond Sebenico the Dalmatian landscape frowned upon us, but we liked
its savage mood. The road, winding inland, was walled with mountains
which might have struck a chill to the heart of Childe Roland on his way
to find the Dark Tower. On a rocky shoulder here and there crouched a
sinister little hamlet, like a black cat huddling into the neck of a
witch. Sometimes, among the stony pastures where discouraged goats
browsed discontentedly, we would spy a human inhabitant of one of those
savage haunts--a shepherd in a costume more strange than picturesque,
with a plait of hair almost as long as Beechy's, hanging down his
back--a sullen, Mongolian-faced being, who stared or scowled as we flew
by, his ragged dog too startled by the rush of the motor even to bark,
frozen into an attitude of angry amazement at his master's feet. One
evidence only of modern civilization did we see--the railway from
Sebenico to Spalato, the first we had come near in Dalmatia; and we
congratulated ourselves that we were travelling by automobile instead.
No tunnels to shut out some wonderful view, just as our eyes had
focussed on it, no black smoke, no stuffy air, no need to think of time
tables!

When at last we sighted the Adriatic again, a surprise awaited us. The
land of desolation lay behind; beyond, a land of beauty and full summer.
We ran beside an azure sea, transparent as gauze, fringing a tropical
strand; and so ca