Wide, straight, and level, the well-built road thrust through the beaming landscape with a directness that took Distance by the throat. The surface improving as we left Pau behind, I drew on the seven-league boots--surreptitiously. Very soon we were flying.... With a steady purr of contentment, Pong, tuned to a hair, swallowed the flashing miles so easily that pace was robbed of its sting. A dot on the soft bullock-walk that edged the road grew with fantastic swiftness into an ox-waggon, loomed for an instant life-size, and was gone. A speck ahead leapt into the shape of a high-wheeled gig, jogged for a moment to meet us, and vanished into space. A dolls'-house by the wayside swelled into a villa ... a château ... a memory of tall thin windows ranged in a white wall. The future swooped into the present, only to be flicked into the past. The seven-league boots were getting into their stride. Then came a level-crossing with the barriers drawn.... For a minute the lady responsible for the obstructions seemed uncertain whether to withdraw them or no. After a long look up the line, however, she decided against us and shook her head with a benevolent smile. "_Le train arrive_," she explained. With a sigh, I stopped the engine and lighted a cigarette.... "What exactly," said Daphne, "did Evelyn say?" "That," said Berry, "as I have already endeavoured to point out, will always remain a matter for conjecture. We addressed one another for more than twenty minutes, but our possession of the line was disputed effectively during the whole of that period." "Well, what did you hear her say?" "I heard her say 'Yes' twice, and 'Delighted,' and 'One o'clock.' I'm almost certain that towards the end of our communion she said, 'Oh, hell!' Having regard to the prevailing conditions, she may be forgiven." Daphne sighed. "Well, I suppose she expects us," she said. "After all, that's the main thing. You made her understand it was to-day, didn't you?" "That," was the reply, "remains to be seen. If I didn't, it's not my fault. It's no good pretending that 'Wednesday's' a good word to shout, but I made the most of it. I also said 'Woden's Day' with great clarity, and '_Mardi_.'" "_Mardi?_" shrieked his wife. "Oh, much louder than that." "B-but that's _Tuesday_!" Berry started guiltily. "I--I mean '_Mercredi_,'" he said hurriedly. I began to shake with merriment. Suspiciously my sister regarded her husband. "Which did you say?" she demanded. "'_Mercredi_.'" "I don't believe a word of it," cried Daphne. "You said '_Mardi_.' You know you did." Here a seemingly interminable freight-train started to lumber across our path.... As the rumble began to die-- "I think," said I, "he must have got 'Wednesday' through. Otherwise Evelyn would have rung up last night." Berry drew a case from his pocket and offered me a cigar. Then he turned to my sister and protruded his tongue....