"I seem to have bungled this business very badly," he said airily. "Please don't be too hard on me. I shall make the _amende_ when I see you in Bristol. _Au revoir, cheres dames!_ Tell them to keep me some dinner. I may not be so very far behind, since you ladies will take some time over your toilette, and I shall--what do you call it--scorch like mad after I have found that careless scoundrel, Smith." Cynthia had suddenly grown dumb, so Mrs. Devar tried once more to relax the tension. "Do be careful, Count Edouard," she cried; "this piece of road is dreadfully dangerous, and, when all is said and done, another half hour is now of no great consequence." "If your chauffeur has really gone to Blagdon, he will not be back under an hour at least," broke in Medenham's disdainful voice. "Unless you wish to wreck your car you will not attempt to follow him." With that he bent over the head lamps, and their radiance fell unexpectedly on Marigny's scowling face, since the discomfited adventurer could no longer pretend to ignore the Englishman's menace. Still, he was powerless. Though quivering with anger and balked desire, he dared not provoke a scene in Cynthia's presence, and her continued silence already warned him that she was bewildered if not actually suspicious. He forced a laugh. "Explanations are like swamps," he said. "The farther you plunge into them the deeper you sink. So, good-bye! To please you, Mrs. Devar, I shall crawl. As for Miss Vanrenen, I see that she does not care what becomes of me." Cynthia weakened a little at that. Certainly she wondered why her model chauffeur chose to express his opinions so bluntly, while Marigny's unwillingness to take offense was admirable. "Is there no better plan?" she asked quickly, for Medenham had started the engine, and his hand was on the reversing lever. "For what?" he demanded. "For extricating my friend from his difficulty?" "If he likes to come with us, he can leave his car here all night, and return for it to-morrow." "Perhaps----" "Please do not trouble yourself in the least on my account," broke in the Count gayly. "As for abandoning my car, such a stupid notion would never enter my mind. No, no! I wait for Smith, but you may rely on my appearance in Bristol before you have finished dinner." Though it was no simple matter to back and turn the Mercury in that rough and narrow road, Medenham accomplished the maneuver with a skill that the Frenchman appreciated to the full. For the first time he noted the number when the tail-lamp revealed it. "X L 4000," he commented to himself. "I must inquire who the owner is. Devar or Smith will know where to apply for the information. And I must also ascertain that fellow's history. Confound him, and my luck, too! If the Devar woman has any sense she will keep Cynthia well out of his way until the other chauffeur arrives."