A couple of farm labourers passed, one of them airing a grievance, the condemning of his pig by some sanitary official. “I be’unt a fool. A touch of de joint evil, dat’s what it be. But he comes and he swears it be tu-ber-coo-lousis, and says I be to slaughter d’beast.” The voice died away, bemoaning the fate of the pig, and Eve felt a drowsiness descending upon her eyelids. She remembered Joan Gaunt sitting erect and watchful beside her, and then dreams came. She woke suddenly to find two huge glaring eyes lighting the road. They were the headlights of a stationary motor, and she heard the purr of the engine turning dead slow. Someone was speaking. A high pitched, jerky and excitable voice was giving orders. “Turn out the headlights, Jones, and light the oil lamps. You had better shove in another can of petrol. Well, here we are; on the tick—what!” Joan Gaunt’s voice answered him. “Last time you were an hour late.” “That’s good. We had two punctures, you know. Where are the others?” “Asleep in the ditch.” Eve woke Lizzie Straker. The headlights went out suddenly, and two figures approached, one of them carrying the tail lamp of the car. “Hallo, it’s Galahad!” Lizzie Straker’s short sleep had restored her vitality. She spluttered enthusiastically at the man. “Hallo, old sport! here we are, ready for the limelight. Plenty of paraffin and shavings?” “Rather!” He turned the lamp on Eve so that she could see nothing but a round yellow eye. “New comrade? Greetings!” Joan Gaunt introduced them. “Mr. Lawrence Kentucky—Miss Eve Carfax. We call him our Galahad.” The man laughed, and his laughter was falsetto. She could not see him, except when he swung the lamp away from her, and then but dimly, but she received the impression of something tall, fidgety, and excitable. “Delightful! One more fair lady to champion. Great adventures, great adventures!” Eve soon noticed that Lizzie Straker was particularly interested in Mr. Lawrence Kentucky. She hung close, talking in slangy superlatives, and trying to spread her personality all round him. “How many miles an hour to-day?” “Oh, we came easy! Respectable tourists, you know. All ready, Jones?” “All ready, sir.” “Supposing we heave up the anchor? There’s plenty of room for three at the back.” “But what about the house? Do you know it?” “Rather! We’re thorough, you know. Jones and I went over all the ground two days ago. We have it all mapped out to a T.” “I’m going to set light to this one. Joan had the last.” “All right, your honour, although Miss Gaunt’s one up.” Joan Gaunt climbed in independently. Lizzie Straker waited to be helped. Mr. Kentucky helped Eve, because he had discovered something of the eternal feminine.