Berry and Piers were at the telephone. I heard them. "Ask for the Bordeaux Exchange. Burn it, why can't I talk French? Do as I say, lad. Don't argue. Ask for the Bordeaux Exchange. Insist that it's urgent--a matter of life and death." Piers began to speak--shakily. "Yes. The Bordeaux Exchange.... It's most urgent, _Mademoiselle_.... A matter of life and death.... Yes, yes. The Exchange itself.... What? My God! But, _Mademoiselle_----" A sudden rude thresh of the bell announced that his call was over. Berry fell upon the instrument with an oath. "It's no good!" cried Piers. "It's no good. She says the line to Bordeaux is out of order." My sister lifted her head and looked into my face. "Can you do it by car?" she said. I pulled myself together and thought very fast. "We can try," I said, rising, "but---- Oh, it's a hopeless chance. Only three hours--_less than_ three hours for a hundred and fifty miles. It can't be done. We'd have to do over seventy most of the way, and you can't beat a pace like that out of Ping and Pong. On the track, perhaps.... But on the open road----" The soft slush of tires upon the drive cut short my sentence. "Jonah, at last," breathed Daphne. We ran to the window. It was not Jonah. It was Roland. So soon as he saw us, he stopped and threw out his clutch. "I say, you know, I am mos' distress' about your lunch to-morrow. When you ask me----" "Roland," I cried, "Roland, will you lend me your car?" "But 'ave I not said----" "Now--at once--here--to drive to Bordeaux?" Roland looked up at my face. The next moment he was out of his seat. "Yes, but I am not going with you," he said. Then: "What is the matter? Never mind. You will tell me after. The lights are good, and she is full up with gasolene. I tell you, you will be there in three hours." "Make it two and three-quarters," said I. * * * * * The day's traffic had dwindled to a handful of home-going gigs, and as we swung out of the _Rue Montpensier_ and on to the Bordeaux road, a distant solitary tram was the only vehicle within sight. I settled down in my seat.... A moment later we had passed the _Octroi_, and Pau was behind us. Piers crouched beside me as though he were carved of stone. Once in a while his eyes would fall from the road to the instrument-board. Except for that regular movement, he gave no sign of life. As for Berry, sunk, papoose-like, in the chauffeur's cockpit in rear, I hoped that his airman's cap would stand him in stead.... The light was good, and would serve us for half an hour. The car was pulling like the mares of Diomedes. As we flung by the last of the villas, I gave her her head....