"The second bad moment I overcame (I am proud to report) of my own strength of will. It happened at a bend of the Corniche, when our driver pulled up on the edge of a really nasty precipice and invited us to admire the view. It being the hour for _dejeuner_, we haled our basket out of the carriage, and spread our meal on the parapet. Farrell sat perched there with his back to the sea, and made unpleasant noises, gnawing at a chicken-bone. I wanted to see how he'd fall backwards and watch him strike the beach. . . . "Well, I was glad when the impulse was conquered and I had proved my self-control: because the previous temptation had been a close call, and I believe it would have bowled me out but for a special interposition of--Providence. "We were following up a path in the Esterel: a little gorge of a path cut by some torrent long since dried. The track had steep sides--fifteen to twenty feet--right and left, and was so narrow that we took it single file. I was leading. "Now, on our way westward out of Cannes, that morning, we had passed the golf-links, and Farrell had been talking golf ever since. I don't know why golf-talk should have such power to infuriate those who despise that game. But so it is, Roddy. "I had the weapon in my pocket. I had my fingers on it as I trudged along, and was saying to myself, 'Why not here? In the name of common sense, why not here? Why not here and now?'-- when a leveret, that had somehow bungled its footing on the high bank above, came tumbling down, not three yards ahead of us. The poor little brute picked itself up, half-stunned, caught sight of us, and made a bolt up the path ahead. From this side to that it darted, trying to climb and escape; but again and again the bank beat it, and from each spring it toppled back; and we followed relentlessly. "At the end of two hundred yards it gave in. It just lay down in the path like a thing already dead and waited for what we should choose to do. "I picked it up. I showed it to Farrell, keeping my fingers on the faint little heart. "'They say,' said I, 'it's lucky when a hare pops out in your path. What do you think?' "'Worth carrying home?' said Farrell. 'I'm partial to hare. But he's a bit undersized for Leadenhall Market'--and the fool laughed. "'We'll let him go,' said I. "'I guess he's too far scared to crawl,' he suggested doubtfully. "'Turn about and watch,' said I. 'It may have escaped your memory that you once accused me of being cruel to animals. Turn about, and watch. Don't move.'