The Princess Passes | Page 8

forms I had no time to analyse:
but into the midst of this seething ocean Molly pitilessly hurled us.
How we slipped into spaces half our own width and came out
scatheless, Providence alone knew, but it seemed that kindly Fate must
soon tire of sparing us, we tempted it so often.
"Here's a smash!" I said to myself grimly, at the corner of Hamilton
Place, and it flashed through my brain, with a mixture of self-contempt
and pity, that my last thought before the end would be one of sordid
satisfaction because a fortnight ago I had reluctantly paid an accident
assurance premium.
My fingers yearned with magnetic attraction toward the arms of the
seat, but with all that was manly in me I resisted. I wreathed my face
with a smile which, though stiff as a plaster mask, was a useful screen;
and as South African tan is warranted not to wear off during a lifetime,
I could feel as pale as I pleased without visible disgrace.
"How do you like it?" asked Molly.
"Glorious," I breezily returned.

"Ah, I thought you would enjoy it, when--as they say of babies--you
'began to take notice.' The other night, of course, you were a little
absent-minded. Besides, it was dark, and the streets were dull and
empty. A motor is just as nice as a horse, isn't it? Do say so, if only to
please me."
Now I knew why the victims of the Inquisition told any lie which
happened to come handy. I said that it was marvellous how soon the
thing got hold of one; and Molly's mushroom reared itself proudly.
"That is because you are so brave," said the poor, deceived girl. "Of
course it's having been a soldier, and all that. People who've been in
battle wouldn't think anything of a first motor experience ("Oh,
wouldn't they?" I inwardly chortled). But, do you know, Lord Lane,
I've actually seen men who were quite brave in other ways, feel a little
queer the first time they drove in an automobile through traffic, or even
in quiet country roads? I don't suppose you can understand it."
"I couldn't," I replied valiantly, "were not imagination the first
ingredient of sympathy. But--er--don't you think that omnibus in front
is rather large--near, I mean? You mustn't exert yourself to talk, you
know, for my sake, if you need to give your whole attention to driving."
"I like to talk. It's no exertion at all," said Molly, and I fancy I
responded with some base flattery, though by this time that smile of
mine was so hard you could have knocked it off with a hammer.
"The first day I went through traffic," she continued, "my toes had the
funniest sensation, as if they were turning up in my shoes. One seemed
to come so awfully near everything, without any horses in front."
At this very moment my own toes happened to feel as if they were
pasted back on my insteps; yet I laughed heartily at the suggestion, and
to my critical ear there was only a slight hollowness in the ring,
although before us now loomed a huge railway van. It was loaded with
iron bars, their rusty ends hanging far out and sagging towards the
roadway, enough to frighten the gentlest automobile. Ours seemed far
from gentle, and besides, we could not possibly stop in time to avoid
impalement on the iron spikes. Molly and I, if not Jack and the

chauffeur, must surely die a peculiarly unpleasant and unnecessary
death, in the morning of our lives, just as other more fortunate people
were starting out, safe and happy in exquisitely beautiful omnibuses, to
begin their day's pleasure. And Molly believed, because I had been in a
few battles, with nothing worse than a bee-like buzzing of some
innocent bullets in my ears, that I should be callous in a motor car.
However, the bravest soldiers are those who feel fear, and fight despite
it. I maintain that I deserved a Victoria Cross for the grim smile which
did not leave my lips as I braced myself for the death-dealing blow. But,
as in a dream one finds without surprise that the precipice, over which
one is hanging by an eyebrow, obligingly transforms itself into a bank
of violets, so did the dragon which had been whirling us to destruction
magically change into a swan-like creature skimming just out of harm's
way.
I now reflected, with a vague sense of self-disgust, that, instead of
being glad to leave the world which had denied me Helen, I had felt
distinctly annoyed at the necessity, had not given a thought to my lost
love, and had been thankful for the mere gift of life without her.
"I'm so glad you don't think I'm