"Very well, ghouls," said Berry, "have your most wicked way. Doubtless the good monks of the Hospice will find my corpse. I wish the drinking-trough, which will be erected to my memory, to stand half-way up St. James's Street. How strange it will sound in future." "What'll sound?" said Jill. "The new Saint's Day, dear--Berrymas." When order had been restored, Jonah suggested that we should adjourn the debate till the next morning, in case it stopped snowing during the night. As it was nearly one, the idea seemed a good one, and we went to bed. The morning was bright and cloudless. The cold was intense, but the sun glorious, while the clear blue sky looked as if it had never heard of snow. In a word, the weather was now magnificent, and, but for the real evidence Upon the country-side, no one would ever have believed such a cheery, good-natured fellow guilty of a raging blizzard. But the snow lay thick upon the ground, and it was freezing hard. "We can get there all right," said Jonah, "but I don't see the car coming back at four o'clock in the morning. No, thanks, I'Il have marmalade." "There's almost a full moon," said I. "I know," said Berry, "but the banjo's being painted." "We'd better stop at the inn at Steeple Abbas," said Jonah. "If we can get as far as Steeple, we can make Fallow," said I. "Remember, I'm driving." "We are not likely to forget it, brother," said Berry. "If you knew the difference between the petrol-tank and the gear-box--" "But I do. Petrol in one, tools in the other. However." "Jonah's right," said Daphne. "We'd better stop at Steeple." "Not I." said I. "Nor me," said Jill. "Boy and I'll come back to our dear Fallow and our nice big grate and our own beds." "Good little girl," said I. Berry emptied his mouth and began to recite "Excelsior."