Adventure stories; City and town life -- Fiction; Staffordshire (England) -- Fiction
For her pace was increasing. And she dared not strike her pole into the
ground. She had, in fact, no control whatever over those two planks to
which her feet were strapped. She might have been Mazeppa and they,
mustangs. She could not even fall. So she fled down the preliminary
straight of the track, and ecstatic spectators cried: "Look how _well_
Mrs. Machin is doing!"
Mrs. Machin would have given all her furs to be anywhere off those
planks. On the adjacent fields of glittering snow the Captain had been
giving his adored Countess a lesson in the use of skis; and they stood
together, the Countess somewhat insecure, by the side of the track at
its first curve.
Nellie, dumb with excitement and amazement, swept towards them.
"Look out!" cried the Captain.
In vain! He himself might perhaps have escaped, but he could not
abandon his Countess in the moment of peril, and the Countess could only
move after much thought and many efforts, being scarce more advanced
than Nellie. Nellie’s wilful planks quite ignored the curve, and, as it
were afloat on them, she charged off the track, and into the Captain and
the Countess. The impact was tremendous. Six skis waved like
semaphores in the air. Then all was still. Then, as the beholders
hastened to the scene of the disaster, the Countess laughed and Nellie
laughed. The laugh of the Captain was not heard. The sole casualty was
a wound about a foot long in the hinterland of the Captain’s unique
knickerbockers. And as threads of that beautiful check pattern were
afterwards found attached to the wheel of Nellie’s pole, the cause of
the wound was indisputable. The Captain departed home chiefly
backwards, but with great rapidity.
In the afternoon Denry went down to Montreux and returned with an opal
bracelet, which Nellie wore at dinner.
"Oh! What a ripping bracelet!" said a girl.
"Yes," said Nellie. "My husband gave it me only to-day."
"I suppose it’s your birthday or something," the inquisitive girl
ventured.
"No," said Nellie.
"How nice of him!" said the girl.
The next day Captain Deverax appeared in riding breeches. They were not
correct for ski-running, but they were the best he could do. He visited
a tailor’s in Montreux.
V
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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