"Oh, that's nothing--they run themselves!" she said competently, "I'm used to them. Hurry--here comes a man, now!" It was indeed the fact that a burly, self-satisfied creature was advancing towards them, and Antony's blood boiled at the pompous rustic's meaning glance. "Come, come, Mr. Tony!" she urged excitedly. "Can you run?" he muttered desperately, "it's no good if you can't, you know." "Of course I can," she replied, and he noted how different the tones of her voice had grown, how much richer and more alluring. "I can beat you to the car! Come!" The freckled boy plucked at his coat urgingly, and in a moment, as one flees in dreams, he was dashing down the slight slope that led to the little tableland at the head of the steeper hill where the huge car stood, pointed towards freedom. A hoarse, suety cry issued from the constable, answered by the farther group; a number of men rushed hastily in their direction, but no one seemed to realise the object of their flight and the way was left clear. The red-headed boy bounded beside them, whooping madly; Nette's pale skirt flashed valiantly a trifle ahead of them; the loose stones rolled under their flying feet. With a light bound the girl dropped on the wide leather seat, and Antony tumbled in after her, an agile village boy almost at his heels. Even as it was, this boy would have seized him had not the freckled arbiter of their destinies dexterously tripped him, grinning derisively at his downfall as he dashed to the side of the car and panted: "Let her go, mister, let her go!" Mechanically Antony grasped the steering wheel as he had seen others grasp it and turned to his companion. But she had toppled breathless against his shoulder and huddled there motionless. He stared helplessly at the approaching pursuit--his head whirled. "Here, I'll pull it!" cried the red-headed urchin and fumbled mysteriously at Antony's feet. A low, raucous buzzing began forthwith, and as three men dashed up to them triumphantly, the great car shuddered a moment and lurched down the hill, gathering speed with every quarter-second. There flashed before Antony's eyes a quick panorama of the extended Frenchman, the kneeling doctor, the threatening men; his ears resounded with the gleeful cackle of that freckled Fate who had launched them, and then he faced an empty country road, silent but for the whirring of their chariot. He turned his face to the girl, unconsciously moving the simple steering apparatus so as to keep the car in the middle of the road, while he spoke. "May I trouble you to take this now?" he said politely. "Your knowledge of this business has undoubtedly saved you a great deal of mortifying bother and delay." She stiffened sensibly beside him, and in her voice he caught no hint of the momentary rich abandon that he had noticed at the beginning of their flight, for she spoke with the cool and airy dryness of their first meeting.