After a quick glance up, and then down, the street, the King darted across the road, turned into the familiar cul-de-sac on the other side, and so passed into the secluded, shut-in mews at the back of the tall houses. No one was visible in the mews, as the King unlocked, and opened, the doors of Geoffrey Blunt's garage. A minute or two sufficed for him to run out the car. Flinging on the thick, leather coat, and adjusting the goggles, which lay ready to his hand, where he had tossed them that morning, he re-locked the garage doors. Then he sprang up into his seat at the steering wheel of the car, and started the engine. For one anxious moment, he feared that the engine was going to fail him; but, next moment, it settled sweetly to its work, and the car shot forward, out of the secluded mews, up the quiet, side street beyond, and so into Grosvenor Place. In Grosvenor Place, the chance pedestrians who had been moving along the sunlit pavement had passed on, out of sight, still immersed, no doubt, in their own dreams and cares. The grizzled, battered looking old Scotchman, in Highland costume, had just succeeded, apparently, in extorting his "hush money." With his bagpipes tucked under his arm, he was swaggering along now, in the centre of the road, his ruddy, weatherbeaten, wrinkled face wreathed in smiles. The car caught up, and passed the triumphant old blackmailer in a cloud of dust. A moment later, as he approached Hyde Park Corner, the King decided to vary the route which he usually followed. With this end in view, he swung the car sharply to the right, down Constitution Hill. At this hour of the day, it occurred to him, Park Lane and Oxford Street, his usual route, would be crowded with traffic. By running down Constitution Hill, and out into, and along, the Mall he would probably secure an open road, and so save several minutes. And every minute he could save now, might be of vital importance later. The car had a clear run down Constitution Hill. In the Mall, the Coronation flags still hung, flaunting and gay in the sunlight. The stands, on either side of the road, from which the guests of the Government had viewed the Coronation procession, the day before, were, too, still in position. The Office of Works, at the moment, no doubt, had far more important, and urgent enterprises on hand, than the removal of flags, and the dismantling of stands. Sweeping along the Mall, and under the lavishly decorated Admiralty Arch, the car ran out into Trafalgar Square, without a check. But here, almost at once, the King had to pull up abruptly. The policeman, on point duty, at the top of Whitehall, had his arm held out against all eastbound traffic. Irritated by, and chafing under, the delay, the King was compelled to apply his brakes, and run the car into position, in the long queue of waiting vehicles, which had already gathered behind the policeman's all powerful arm.