And after he had drained each bottle William winked at the watching angels and licked his lips, and patted the lower centres of his being with a shameless base approval. Then fired by alcohol, robbed of his last vestiges of self-control, his thoughts turned to the delicious chocolates that were stored in a daintily beribboned box in the little drawers beneath the sleeping bunk of Miss Philips. There was a new brightness in his eye, a spot of pink in either cheek. With an expression of the lowest cunning he reconnoitred Bealby. Bealby was busy about something at the back end of the caravan, tugging at something. With swift stealthy movements of an entirely graceless sort, William got up into the front of the caravan. Just for a moment he hesitated before going in. He craned his neck to look round the side at the unconscious Bealby, wrinkled the vast nose into an unpleasant grimace and then—a crouching figure of appetite—he crept inside. Here they were! He laid his hand in the drawer, halted listening.... What was that?... Suddenly the caravan swayed. He stumbled, and fear crept into his craven soul. The caravan lurched. It was moving.... Its hind wheels came to the ground with a crash.... He took a step doorward and was pitched sideways and thrown upon his knees.... Then he was hurled against the dresser and hit by a falling plate. A cup fell and smashed and the caravan seemed to leap and bound.... Through the little window he had a glimpse of yew bushes hurrying upward. The caravan was going down hill.... “Lummy!” said William, clutching at the bunks to hold himself upright.... “Ca-arnt be that drink!” said William, aspread and aghast.... He attempted the door. “Crikey! Here! Hold in! My shin!” ... “’Tis thut Brasted Vool of a Boy!” “....” said William. “....——.... [Illustration: —— —— ——.” “——.”] § 11 The caravan party soon came to its decision. They would stay the night in the hotel. And so as soon as they had had some tea they decided to go back and make William bring the caravan and all the ladies’ things round to the hotel. With characteristic eagerness, Professor Bowles led the way. And so it was Professor Bowles who first saw the release of the caravan. He barked. One short sharp bark. “Whup!” he cried, and very quickly, “Whatstheboydoing?” Then quite a different style of noise, with the mouth open “Wha—hoop!” Then he set off running very fast down towards the caravan, waving his arms and shouting as he ran, “Yaaps! You _Idiot_. Yaaps!” The others were less promptly active. Down the slope they saw Bealby, a little struggling active Bealby, tugging away at a yew branch until the caravan swayed with his efforts, and then—then there was a movement as though the thing tossed its head and reared, and a smash as the heap of stuff that stayed up its hind wheels collapsed....