lonely primrose, and farther on a little knot of other lights blossomed
in the dusk.

"We shall be there now in a few minutes," I was saying to myself, when
suddenly I was startled by a loud report like a pistol-shot. Aunt
Kathryn gave a shriek which was quite hoarse and unlike her natural
voice, but I was silent, holding Airole trembling and barking under my
arm.

The car swerved sharply, and my side of the tonneau seemed to settle
down. I was sure that an invisible person must have shot at us, and
wished sincerely that the Prince would drive on instead of slacking
pace. But he stopped the engine, exclaiming in an angry voice, "A tyre
burst! Thousand furies, why couldn't it have waited twenty minutes
more?"

"Is it serious?" I asked; for we had never had this experience before,
on any of the rough roads we had travelled.

"No," he answered shortly, "not serious, but annoying. We can crawl on
for a little way. I was a fool to stop the motor; did it without
thinking. Now I shall have the trouble of starting again."

Grumbling thus, he got out; but the motor wouldn't start. The engine was
as sullenly silent as Aunt Kathryn. For ten minutes, perhaps, the Prince
tried this device and that--no doubt missing Joseph; but at last he gave
up in despair. "It is no use," he groaned. "I am spending myself for
nothing. If you will sit quietly here for a few moments, I will go ahead
to that house where the light is, to see if I can get you ladies taken
in, and the car hauled into a place where I can work at it."

"What language do they speak here?" I asked, a chill of desolation upon
me.

"Slavic," he answered. "But I can talk it a little. I shall get on, and
you will see me again almost at once."

So saying, he was off, and I was alone with the statue of Aunt Kathryn.

At first I thought that, whatever happened, I wouldn't be the one to
begin a conversation, but the silence and deepening darkness were too
much for my nerves. "Oh, Aunt Kathryn, don't let's be cross to each
other any longer," I pleaded. "I'm tired of it, aren't you? And oh, what
wouldn't I give to be back in sweet Ragusa with Beechy and--and the
others!"

Still not a word. It seemed incredible that she could bear malice so;
but there was no cure for it. If she would not be softened by that plea
of mine, nothing I could say would melt her. I should have liked to cry,
for it was so lonely here, and so dreadful to be estranged from one's
only friend. But th