"That do I. They was took off my road just afore I started breakin' meself, but long afore that I used to bring me father 'is dinner, an' I remember them well. Many a time I've watched the 'Tantivy' go by, an' Muster Cracknell drivin'. Always nodded to father, 'e did, an' passed the time o' day. An' father, 'e'd wave 'is 'ammer, an' call me an' tell me 'is name, an' what a fine coachman 'e were. 'Twas a Birmin'ham coach, the 'Tantivy,' but Muster Cracknell used to 'and over at Oxford. London to Oxford was 'is stretch, sir. An' back." "Isn't that wonderful?" said Daphne. Agatha and Jill, who had joined us, agreed in awestruck whispers. The old fellow laughed. "I've seen the coaches, m'm, and I've seen the motors, an' they can't neither of them do without the road, m'm. As it was in the beginnin', so ever it shall be. Soon I'll pass, but the road'll go on, an' others'll break for 'er. For she must needs be patched, you know, m'm, she must needs be patched...." We gave him money, and he rose and uncovered and pulled his white forelock with the antique courtesy of his class. As we turned away, I pinched Daphne's arm. "I'll bet no man's ever done that to you before." She shook her head, smiling. "I don't think so. It was very nice of him." "What would you call him?" said Jill. "A stone-breaker?" I raised my eyebrows. "I suppose so. Or roadman." "I know," said Agatha softly. "He's a Gentleman of the Road." "Good for you," said I. "The title never became a highwayman one half so well." As I spoke, the Rolls stole up alongside. We climbed in, Jill and I sitting behind for a change. With a foot on the step, Daphne looked at her husband. "Did you get very hot?" she said. "I did," said Berry. "Every pore in my body has been in action. I always think it's so nice to start a day like that." "How would you like to break stones," said I, "for seventy-nine years?" Jonah let in the clutch. "I perceive," said Berry, "that you are under the influence of drink. At the present moment I am more interested in the breaking of backs. Have you ever jacked up a car?" "Often. You must stoop to conquer." "Stoop? You must have a comic spine. My trunk kept getting in the way. And my nether limbs were superfluous. To do it properly you should be severed below the armpits." "The correct way," said I, "is to face the jack, and then bend backwards till you face it again. Then it's simplicity itself. You work, as it were, between your own legs." My brother-in-law sighed. "I used to do my boots up like that, when an agent in Germany. In that way no one could assault me from behind. Those detailed to stab me in the back were nonplussed and in several cases shot for incompetence." A quarter of an hour later we slid over Magdalen Bridge. * * * * *