ard, which, of
course, is silly. So Brown took the helm again, and Jimmy sat in the
_tonneau_ with Aunt Mary, where they whispered and chuckled a good deal
together, appearing to have a real live mystery up their sleeves, which
I suppose had something to do with the promised surprise at Cannes.

It was quite late in the day before the steering-gear was mended and we
could take the road again, and then we all thought it a pity to run
through the dark to Cannes, so we decided to stay a second night in
Toulon, at the same hotel where I had dinner with Brown; he, poor
fellow, being this time banished to some invisible lower region, or
another hotel, for Aunt Mary and Jimmy would have had fits if I had
proposed that he should make a fourth at our table. I thought the people
of the hotel and the head waiter looked curiously at me; for one night
they saw me dine with a gentleman who the next night drives to the door
as my _chauffeur_ (I assure you, Dad, it's no stretch of language to
speak of Brown as a "gentleman," and you really must get him a
gentleman's berth, even if it's way off in Klondyke).

Early next morning we started for what proved to be the most beautiful
drive we have yet had, as warm as summer, and sparkling with sunshine.
We bowled along at a gentle pace through a fairyland of flowers and
rivers, with billowy blue mountains rising into the sky, and showing
here and there a distant ethereal peak of snow. Very soon we passed
through Hyeres, which Brown called the gate of the Riviera, and I should
have liked to turn aside for a peep at Costebelle, which Brown thinks
one of the loveliest places of all. But Aunt Mary and Jimmy both opposed
me, saying that we ought to get on as soon as possible to Cannes--"to
Cannes" was their constant cry.

Beyond Hyeres the road became more and more superb. We were travelling
now along the mountains of the Moors, gliding through groves of oak and
woods of shimmering grey-green olives, with glimpses of the glittering
sea on our right hand. Presently the way dipped to the verge of the sea
as far as Frejus, from which place it rose again to wind up and up into
the heart of the Esterels. Though we mounted many hundreds of feet, the
road was so well engineered that gradients were not very trying. Our
agreeable Napier, at any rate, made nothing of them, but simply flew up
at twelve or fourteen miles an hour. And the descent on the other side!
My heart comes into my mouth when I think