From the window of a cottage some seventy paces away a woman was regarding us steadily.... We re-entered the cars with more precipitation than dignity. A glance at the clock in the dashboard made my heart sink. A quarter past six--summer time. It was clear that Gavarnie was lazy. Argelès, Lourdes, and the rest must be already bustling. Long ere we could reach Pau, the business of town and country would be in full swing.... The same reflection, I imagine, had bitten Jonah, for, as I let in the clutch, Ping swept past us and whipped into the village with a low snarl. Fast as we went, we never saw him again that memorable morning. Jonah must have gone like the wind. As for us, we wasted no time. We leapt through the village, dropped down the curling pass, snarled through Saint-Sauveur, left Luz staring, and sailed into Argelès as it was striking seven. From Argelès to Lourdes is over eight miles. It was when we had covered exactly four of these in six minutes that the engine stuttered, sighed, and then just fainted away. We had run out of petrol. This was annoying, but not a serious matter, for there was a can on the step. The two gallons it was containing would easily bring us to Pau. What was much more annoying and of considerable moment was that the can, when examined, proved to be dry as a bone. After a moment's consideration of the unsavoury prospect, so suddenly unveiled, I straightened my back, pushed my ridiculous hat to the nape of my neck, and took out a cigarette-case. Adèle and Berry stared. "That's right," said the latter bitterly. "Take your blinking time. Why don't you sit down on the bank and put your feet up?" I felt for a match. Finger to lip, Adèle leaned forward. "For Heaven's sake," she cried, "don't say there's none in the can!" "My darling," said I, "you've spoken the naked truth." There was a long silence. The gush of a neighbouring spring was suggesting a simple peace we could not share. Suddenly-- "Help!" shrieked the English Rose. "Help! I'm being compromised." So soon as we could induce him to hold his tongue, a council was held. Presently it was decided that I must return to Argelès, if possible, procure a car, and bring some petrol back as fast as I could. Already the day was growing extremely hot, and, unless I encountered a driver who would give me a lift, it seemed unlikely that I should be back within an hour and a half. We had, of course, no hope of salvation. Help that arrived now would be too late. Lourdes would be teeming. The trivial round of Pau would be in full blast. The possible passage of another car would spare us--me particularly--some ignominy, but that was all. It was arranged that, should a car appear after I had passed out of sight, the driver should be accosted, haply deprived of petrol, and certainly dispatched in my pursuit.