The Grand Duchess Alexandra, or rather Lady Beltham, seemed to hesitate a few moments. She cast a dark and venomous look of suddenly awakened anger in the direction of the last lingering guests mounting their vehicles, then quickly: “No, I am in no hurry. Tell the chauffeur to do the repairs, and come and tell me when all’s ready”—and the footman vanished once more. * * * * * “You are infinitely obliging, madam, to offer to drive me back to Paris. Instead of sitting sad and solitary in a hired conveyance, it is no small happiness for me to journey a few minutes in your company and enjoy, with no unbearable third party present, the favour you are so amiable as to show me.” In fact, as Sonia Danidoff was on the way to her limousine, hanging on Tom Bob’s arm, the princess had observed that the latter, having no conveyance of his own, would be obliged to get back to Paris alone as best he might, and there and then she had made the offer: “Come, won’t you get into my car? You can drive with me to the house, then they’ll set you down at your destination.” Tom Bob, needless to say, jumped at the offer, delighted to seize the opportunity of so charming a _tête à tête_. And soon the princess and he were talking amicably together, while their car sped through the deserted Bois along the road, lit up for a dozen yards ahead by the glare of the acetylene lamps on the bonnet. They talked, let it be said, of indifferent subjects, the American carefully avoiding any reference, however casual, to the declaration of love he had ventured to make a moment before, and Sonia feigning not to have understood his meaning. “You have a wonderfully fine car, madam,” observed Tom Bob, as the princess’s chauffeur, making a clever turn and taking advantage of the exceptional speed of the car, took the head of the procession formed by the different cars. “We shall be there in a few seconds; I shall be sorry for that, madam.” “You ...” But at the very instant Sonia Danidoff was in act to reply, a cry of horror and anguished fear escaped her lips, while for his part, Tom Bob could hardly restrain a startled oath. What had happened? Impossible for the occupants of the cars to perceive in the bewilderment of the moment! What blunder had the chauffeur made to provoke the accident? Suddenly, without any diminution of speed, without even any application of the brakes to slow up the pace, the four first cars following the road from the Pré Catalan had plunged into the lake of the Bois de Boulogne! Fortunately the lake is not very deep. Still, the danger was serious that confronted those who found themselves thus involved in so sudden a shipwreck. The women were muffled in their cloaks, the men hampered with their great coats; moreover, the cars had been pitched almost one on top of the other, and cries of terrified bewilderment rose on all sides.