Once more, however sensible this inner discussion with myself was, I would not accept its conclusions. A resemblance in manner between the car and the Professor, a probable hallucination of my sense of hearing, and possibly the way of gripping the lever, should not suffice to prove this absurdity. My distress wanted a more decisive proof. _It came without delay._ We were coming to the edge of the forest, to that limit where the dead maniac invariably paused in his walks. I understood that I was going to have the question settled, and at all hazards, I gave Emma warning. “Hold tight; keep your body back!” In spite of our precaution, a sudden stop of the car threw us forward. “What’s the matter?” said Emma. “Nothing, do not worry.” Frankly, I was undecided. What was to be done? To get down would have been perilous. Inside the Klotz-car we were at least out of his reach, and I did not desire to be butted at by him, so I endeavored to get him forward. As before, no bit of him would obey my orders. We were in this awkward position, when suddenly I felt the steering-wheel turn round, (levers and foot-breaks working away); and the car, making a wide sweep, faced about, and began to take us back again towards Fonval. I was luckily able to turn it round again by a sudden movement, but the moment it was set in the right direction, it definitely manifested the wish not to move a wheel forward. At last Emma perceived that there was something unusual the matter, and she urged me to get down to put this right, but for some moments my terror had been changed into rage. The hooter laughed! “He who laughs last, laughs loudest,” I cried to myself. “What is the matter? What is the matter?” said my companion. Without listening to her, I took from the grid a steel rod, which served me as a defensive weapon, and to the profound stupefaction of Emma, I hit the restive car with it. Then there was an epic scene! Under the formidable hail of blows, the heavy vehicle behaved like a restive horse--plunged, kicked and bucked. It tried everything to fling us out of the saddle. “Hold fast!” I said to my companion, and I laid on all the harder. The engine growled; the hooter yelled with pain, or bellowed with rage. On the sheet-metal of the hood, the blows rained thick and fast, and the thrashing made the woods resound with a fabulous noise. Suddenly uttering a shrill scream like an elephant, the metallic mastodon gave a bound, executed two or three plunges, and then dashed forward with the speed of lightning. A runaway! I was no longer master of the situation. The frenzy of a mad monster ruled our fate. We were almost flying. The 80 h. p. car sped on with the rapidity of a falling body. We could no longer breathe the wild rushing air. Sometimes the hooter gave a strident cry.