Accordingly, not long after sunset, I went across the street and called for the young lady. I realized fully that her father and mother would not have approved of our escapade, but they were absent from home and I tried to believe it was not my duty to stand toward her _in loco parentium_. She was a bit wilful too, and I feared my remonstrances would do no good unless I carried them to the extreme of refusing my assistance, which, after my ready offer of it, would have been uncivil and unkind. At an unfrequented spot, on a broad highway, near the outskirts of the town, Antaeus and the Driver--the former under head of steam, and both smoking--were awaiting us. We met them there by appointment at nine o'clock. After many instructions and cautions touching the fire, the water, the steam, the use of the levers, the necessity of keeping a sharp lookout ahead, etc., the Driver left me in sole command, as proud as a boy with his first bicycle. “You find you have got into rather close quarters here, don't you?” said I, as I perched myself upon the high seat, from which the machine was most conveniently directed. “The passenger accommodations might be more spacious, but all things considered I hardly think I shall complain,” laughingly returned my companion, who had seated herself on one of the coal-boxes behind me. “I took the precaution not to wear my best frock, so I can stow myself away in small compass without fear of damage.” Having in mind the trouble I had taken, her delight in the novelty of her situation was highly gratifying to me. She eagerly asked about the functions of the various levers, try-cocks, and gauges, and insisted upon being allowed to experiment with them, as well as with the steering gear, herself. The knowledge, she said, might be useful to her in the future. Antaeus proved to be entirely docile and allowed himself to be guided as easily as a well-broken flesh and blood horse. The big fly-wheel revolved, the fussy little piston pumped up and down with an ado that seemed absurd considering the slow progress resulting, the steam fretted and hissed, the three massive rollers bore with all their might upon the hard surface of the macadam, and thus crunching, clanking, thumping and rattling, we sluggishly made our way into the obscurity of the night. By and by, in the course of our journey, we came to a gentle rise, the ascent of which made Antaeus puff rather laboriously. For a moment my passenger looked slightly uneasy. “Why does it do that?” she asked. “The exertion of going up hill makes him breathe a little hard, naturally,” I answered, reassuring her. “He is feeling in fine condition, though,” I added, inspecting the steam-gauge by the light of my lantern; “the effect of a plentiful supply of oats, doubtless.” “You speak of _it_ as _he_,” she said, questioningly. “Certainly; why not?” I retorted. “He seems to me unequivocally masculine.”