A thundering noise sounded from just outside the house. “Pretty powerful engine she’s got in that car of hers,” remarked Anthony. “There, off she goes.” They had a view of the car speeding down the long drive. Anthony yawned again, and strolled towards the house. He passed in through the door. Once inside, he seemed as though changed to quicksilver. He raced across the hall, out through one of the windows on the farther side, and across the park. Bundle, he knew, had to make a big détour by the lodge gates, and through the village. He ran desperately. It was a race against time. He reached the park wall just as he heard the car outside. He swung himself up and dropped into the road. “Hi!” cried Anthony. In her astonishment, Bundle swerved half across the road. She managed to pull up without accident. Anthony ran after the car, opened the door, and jumped in beside Bundle. “I’m coming to London with you,” he said. “I meant to all along.” “Extraordinary person,” said Bundle. “What’s that you’ve got in your hand?” “Only a match,” said Anthony. He regarded it thoughtfully. It was pink, with a yellow head. He threw away his unlighted cigarette, and put the match carefully into his pocket. 24 The House at Dover “You don’t mind, I suppose,” said Bundle after a minute or two, “if I drive rather fast? I started later than I meant to do.” It had seemed to Anthony that they were proceeding at a terrific speed already, but he soon saw that that was nothing compared to what Bundle could get out of the Panhard if she tried. “Some people,” said Bundle, as she slowed down momentarily to pass through a village, “are terrified of my driving. Poor old father, for instance. Nothing would induce him to come up with me in this old bus.” Privately, Anthony thought Lord Caterham was entirely justified. Driving with Bundle was not a sport to be indulged in by nervous, middle-aged gentlemen. “But you don’t seem nervous a bit,” continued Bundle approvingly, as she swept round a corner on two wheels. “I’m in pretty good training, you see,” explained Anthony gravely. “Also,” he added, as an afterthought, “I’m rather in a hurry myself.” “Shall I speed her up a bit more?” asked Bundle kindly. “Good Lord, no,” said Anthony hastily. “We’re averaging about fifty as it is.” “I’m burning with curiosity to know the reason of this sudden departure,” said Bundle, after executing a fanfare upon the Klaxon which must temporarily have deafened the neighbourhood. “But I suppose I mustn’t ask? You’re not escaping from justice, are you?” “I’m not quite sure,” said Anthony. “I shall know soon.” “That Scotland Yard man isn’t as much of a rabbit as I thought,” said Bundle thoughtfully. “Battle’s a good man,” agreed Anthony. “You ought to have been in diplomacy,” remarked Bundle. “You don’t part with much information, do you?” “I was under the impression that I babbled.” “Oh! Boy! You’re not eloping with Mademoiselle Brun, by any chance?”