I climbed gingerly out of the car, and then helped her into the bushes. "Suffering from shock, Alice? I'm really devilish sorry." "Not a bit. It wasn't your fault. Between you and me, Hare, I think you managed it wonderfully." "Thank you, Alice. That's very sweet of you." "I hope Pomfret isn't much hurt." "The little brute. Only a wing, I think. Look here, if we walk into the village, you can have some lunch--you must want it--at the inn, while I get some help to get him out." Just at the foot of the hill we came upon 'The Old Drum,' its timbered walls showing white behind the red screen of its Virginia creeper. When I had escorted my lady into the little parlour, I sought the kitchen. I could hardly believe my ears when the comfortable mistress of the house told me that at that very moment a toothsome duck was roasting, and that it would and should be placed before us in a quarter of an hour. Without waiting to inquire whom we were about to deprive of their succulent dish, I hastened with the good news to my companion. "Splendid!" she said. "You don't mind waiting?" "I should have waited for you, anyway. Now go and retrieve Pomfret; you've just got time." To the two husbandmen I found in the bar, the idea of earning twopence a minute for a quarter of an hour appealed so strongly that they did not wait to finish the ale I had ordered for them, and the feats of strength they performed in persuading Pomfret to return to the path from which he had strayed made me ache all over. The result was that the car was in the yard before the duck had left the oven, and I was able to have a wash at the pump before luncheon was served. Pomfret had come off very lightly, on the whole. Except for the broken wing, a fair complement of scratches, and the total wreck of one of the lamps, he seemed to have taken no hurt. So it happened that Alice and I lunched together. I think we were both glad of the food. When it was over, I lighted her cigarette, and drew her attention to the oleograph, which pictured Gideon's astonishment at the condition of what, on examination, proved to be a large fleece. Out of perspective in the background a youth staggered under a pile of first-fruits. "No wayside inn parlour is complete without one such picture," said I. "As a rule, we are misled about Moses. This, however, is of a later school. Besides, this is really something out of the common." "Why?" "Well, that's not Gideon really, but Garrick as Gideon. Very rare. And that with the first-fruits is Kean as-- "Yes?" "As Ever," I went on hurriedly; "Gideon's great pal, you know, brother of Always. And Mrs. Siddons--" "Who made her debut six years after Garrick's farewell...And you're all wrong about Kean. But don't let me stop you. Which is Nell Gwynne?"