They hoisted him up, Priscilla giving advice and directions while they did so. Then she took her bicycle from a porter who held it for her. “The donkey-trap will bring your luggage,” she said. “It will be all right.” She turned to the coachman. “Drive easy now, James,” she said, “and mind you don’t let the cob shy when you come to the new drain that they’re digging outside the court house. There’s nothing worse for a broken bone than a sudden jar. That’s another thing that was in the Ambulance lectures.” The car started. Priscilla rode alongside, keeping within speaking distance of Frank. “But my ankle’s not broken,” he said. “It may be. Anyhow I expect a jar is just as bad for a sprain. Very likely the lecturer said so and Sylvia Courtney forgot to tell me. Pretty rotten luck this, for you, Cousin Frank, on account of the fishing. You can’t possibly fish and the river’s in splendid order. Father said so yesterday. But perhaps Aunt Juliet will be able to cure you. She thinks she can cure anything.” “I shall be all right,” said Frank, “when I can rest my leg a bit--I don’t think it’s really bad I daresay at the end of a week----” “If Aunt Juliet cures you at all she’ll do it quicker than that. She had Father out of bed the day after he got influenza last Easter hols. He very nearly died afterwards on account of having to travel up to Dublin to go to a nursing home when his temperature was 400 and something, but Aunt Juliet said he was perfectly well all the time; so she may be able to fix up that ankle of yours.” They have, so it is understood, tried experiments in vegetarianism at Haileybury; but Christian Science is not yet part of the regular curriculum even on the modern side. Frank Mannix had only the vaguest idea of what Miss Lentaigne’s beliefs were. He knew nothing at all about her methods. Priscilla’s account of them was not very encouraging. “All I want,” he said, “is simply to rest my ankle.” “Do you think,” said Priscilla, “that you could sit in a boat? That’s mine, the green one beside the slip. If you turn your head you’ll see her. But perhaps it hurts you to turn your head. If it does you’d better not try. The boat will be there all the same even if you don’t see her.” They were passing the quay while she spoke, and Priscilla, who was a little behind at the moment, pointed to the Blue Wanderer. Frank discovered one of the disadvantages of an Irish car. The view of the passengers, even if each one is alone on his side, is confined almost entirely to objects on one side of the road. Only by twisting his neck in a most uncomfortable way can any one see what lies directly behind him. Frank made the effort and was unimpressed by the appearance of the Blue Wanderer. She was exceedingly unlike the shining outriggers in which he had sometimes rowed on the upper reaches of the Thames during earlier summer holidays.