detected a shadow which I knew meant
Miss Randolph. She came nearer. I saw her distinctly now, for she was
carrying a lantern. At first I thought she was looking for me, but she
wasn't. She went straight to the car and stood glowering at it for a
minute, having set down the lantern. Then she took Something out of the
folds of her dress and seemed to feel it with her hand. "Oh, you won't
go, won't you?" she inquired sardonically. "You like to break your belts
and go dropping your chains about, just to give Brown all the trouble
you can, don't you, and keep us from getting anywhere? You think it's
enough to be beautiful, and you can be as much of a beast as you like.
But you're _not_ beautiful. You're horrid, and I hate you! Take that!"

Up went the Something in her hand; it glittered in the yellow light of
the lantern. If you will believe it, the girl had got a hatchet and was
_chopping at the car_. Her poor vicious little stroke did no great
damage, but she chipped off a big flake of varnish and left a white
gash.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, as if it had hurt her and not her great lumbering
dragon. "Oh, you deserve it, you know, and a lot more. But--but----" and
she gave a little gurgling sigh.

I had been on the point of bursting out with uncontrollable laughter,
but suddenly I ceased to find the thing funny. I couldn't lurk in ambush
and hear any more; I couldn't sneak away--even to spare her
feelings--and leave her there to cry, for I felt she was going to cry.
So I came out into the circle of lantern-light, shaking the tobacco from
my pipe.

"Why, Brown, is that you?" she quavered. "I--I didn't want anyone to see
me, and I wasn't crying about the car, but just _Because_--because of
everything. I found that hatchet, and--I couldn't help it. I'm sorry
now, though. It was mean of me to hit a thing when it's down, even if it
is a Beast. It does deserve to be _killed_, though. It's simply no use
trying to go on with such a thing--is it?"

Because of the Plan in my mind I replied gloomily that the prospect was
rather discouraging.

"Discouraging! It's impossible!" she cried. "I've been hoping against
hope, but I see that now. I _won't_ ask poppa to buy me another; it's
too ridiculous. So there's nothing left except to go on by train
everywhere, unless--you heard how kind Monsieur Talleyrand was about
offering to take us on his car."

In the lantern light I thought I saw that she was beginning to look
enigmatic, but I c