Part 2

"I suppose," she returned musingly, "they keep coming to see if it will by any chance bite some one."

At this precise moment there pushed through the entrance-flap one who by his distinctive dress showed himself the mechanician of the claret-coloured motorcar. He was as obviously a foreigner, and among the simple rural types that filled the tent his mustachioed personality stood out as startlingly as the great cobra's. Elbowing his way through the little crowd he made himself a place directly beside Antony and the freckled boy, who had attached himself definitely to his patron, and smiled at the young man in easy cosmopolitan contempt of the rustics, conveying at the same time, In a graphic Continental hint of respectful salutation, his duty to the young lady. Antony accepted the smile with a lordly nod, expressive of his familiarity with mechanicians as a class and his appreciation of their place in the general scheme of things, and the two men surveyed the reptile in silence.

"I know heem well," volunteered the big fellow in the leather suit, at last.

"_C'est Monsieur le Cobra_, zat one. We have take ze car all s'rough 'is country. Wait--I will amuse Mademoiselle. Watch heem!"

Lowering his head till the great goggles on his cap fronted the slitted eyes in the cage he emitted a long, piercing hiss, a nerve racking, whistling call. Everyone in the tent jumped backward spasmodically; Antony threw out his arm and pushed the girl behind him before he realised that there was no danger.

Upon the great snake the effect of the sudden noise was even more appalling. His ugly flat head appeared suddenly high above his writhing folds; no one saw the movement, for it was too lightning-quick for sight, but it was undoubtedly the fact that his head was no longer pillowed. The symmetrical turban on his forehead puffed and quivered, his cold eye caught every eye in the tent with a swift, horrible glance; and every eye shrank, terrified, from his.

"A very unpleasant old party, that snake," Anthony remarked, "I trust our friend won't think it advisable to repeat----"

In the middle of his sentence the Frenchman hissed again. The cobra, irritated beyond further endurance, threw its massive weight against the side of the cylindrical cage, which swayed slightly and then dropped forward into the panic-stricken crowd.

Antony felt a soft, sighing breath on his neck and caught his companion as she fell; he heard the ribs of her fluffy parasol crack under somebody's stamping feet and braced himself to meet the crushing, struggling rush of the frightened crowd. Through the oaths and shrieks of the nightmare moment piped shrill the voice of the red-headed boy.

"Mister, the cover's on! The cover's on tight."

Between the grovelling legs of two infuriated men, fighting like demons for leeway from the horrid cage, Antony caught a glimpse of it and realised that it was, indeed, completely fastened. Though it rolled and bounded under the lashings of its excited occupant, it was securely padlocked, and another moment of frenzied struggle for the door-flaps emptied the tent sufficiently to give passage to two angry men who threw a heavy canvas over the cage and righted it, breathing hard.

One of these as he rose to his feet met Antony's eyes, shifted his gaze to the fainting girl on his arm, and thrust his hand into the capacious pocket of his flapping linen coat.

"Try her with this," he said shortly, "I've got the crowd to settle. Then we'll kill the Frenchy, and then we'll leave!"

Antony forced the offered flask into the girl's mouth and dragged her backward through the open flap. As the air reached her she gasped and choked, gulping down the strong spirit nervously, then stiffening herself in his arm and adjusting her hat.

"Your town is not dull, at any rate, Mr. Tony!" she observed, and the observation, though a little breathless, was almost perfectly under her control.

Antony felt his admiration rise into his eyes, nor did he seek to conceal it.

"You are a brave, sensible--for heaven's sake, what's the matter now?" he cried anxiously, staring at a point behind her. Involuntarily she turned and looked in the same direction.

The greater part of the crowd had scattered and fled far down the long hill; only a few groups of the most hardy and venturesome among the villagers remained at varying distances from the deserted tent. The most important of these groups now fell apart slightly, disclosing as its centre a large and writhing human figure, prone on the grass. The light box coat, the great goggles, proclaimed this figure the ill-fated mechanician. Even as he sprawled and twisted, the men who surrounded him turned and looked at Antony and his companion, and there was an unpleasant fixity, an unmistakable threatening, in their regard that chilled the young gentleman slightly, though he was utterly at a loss as to its import. Presently one of the men caught his eye and beckoned commandingly.

"They seem to want me over there," he said to the girl, with an attempt at unconcern, "perhaps I'd better step over a moment--I'll return immediately. You don't object?"

She looked at him with a curious vague smile, then shook her head slowly. This he took for acquiescence to his request, and as she said nothing, he left her and joined the group about the prostrate foreigner. She stared idly at him, but appeared little impressed by his irritated and repeated pantomimic denials of what was, to judge from the faces of the men, a grave charge of some sort. Even when he threw off a hand on his arm and hastened angrily back to her, his countenance dark with angry concern, she did not alter that vague smile, and this vexed him still further, as he began to explain their situation.

"I am very, very sorry Miss--Miss Nette," he began, his voice fairly trembling with irritation, "but a most absurd and disgusting complication has arisen. This French fellow swears he has been bitten, and they think he is accusing you of hissing at the snake. I don't think he is really such a cad as all that, but he is practically hysterical, and now I don't believe he knows what he is saying. There is certainly some mark on his wrist and one of the men says that he saw the snake's head touch him, and they have filled him so thoroughly with whisky that he really is not responsible for what he says. I think,"--he marvelled at her lack of fright or emotion of any kind--"indeed, I am sure, that they have merely misunderstood his broken French, but these people are so idiotically obstinate, you know. They've sent for a doctor, and they insist that they hold--me responsible, and that if we don't stay here quietly they'll--in short, I don't see what to do. I'm dreadfully sorry."

He paused, ready for reproaches, for tears, for rebellion. But none of these was apparent.

"How silly!" said Nette carelessly, glancing a moment at the group of men.

Antony felt slightly relieved, but only slightly.

"I'm afraid that it can be made quite disagreeable, however," he explained gently, "though it is silly. The fellow deserved to be bitten--if he is, which I'm not at all certain of," he interjected hastily, "and it's none of our business and all his fault; but I've tried everything--bribing and bullying--and we seem to be caught here. I regret it so much--as soon as we can get to my uncle, it will be all right, of course, but nobody here will take a message for me and--and I think perhaps it will make less publicity and fuss, you know, if we go quietly with--with whoever they ask us to and . . ."

He ground his teeth--if only he had been alone! He saw himself the butt of the whole college, nick-named for eternity, blamed by his uncle, that bulwark of convention, self-disgraced by reason of utter, crude failure in this, the greatest social crisis of his life. It was maddening, humiliating--and this thick-skinned, feather-headed girl by his side seemed absolutely indifferent to her (to say the least) embarrassing situation. Stealing a glance at her he perceived that she was still smiling. Nay, more, she now directed the smile straight at him, and though its warm brightness cheered him irrationally for a moment, it was for a moment only, and the gloom of their plight shut round him again as he caught the eye of the leader of the hostile group beyond.

Suddenly he felt a tug at his coat, turned to see the gleaming red head of the author of all his woes, and seized him by the arm with a confused idea of vengeance.

"The doctor's coming, mister, he's nearly got here!" panted this unconscious instrument of Fate, "and I'll bet that foreign man dies! I'll bet he does! He got a terrible bite! Did you see it?"

Antony throttled the boy hastily and looked apprehensively at his companion; he had hoped to spare her this. To his surprise she turned to the child and laughed lightly.

"Oh, dear, no!" she said, "he won't die, little boy. Chauffeurs don't die--they explode!"

Antony had a sense of moral shock. This passed frivolity. Really, the girl was scarcely human; sympathy was wasted on her.

"Did you know the sheriff was coming?" the freckled-faced imp pursued, after a mildly contemptuous stare at his patron's incomprehensible friend. "I wouldn't go with him, if I was you. My uncle says he's got no right to make you."

"Of course he's got no right," Antony exclaimed angrily, "but what can I do about it? I can't fight eight or ten men, can I? I'd rather go than be carried."

"Why don't you jump into that automobile?" the boy asked abruptly. "I would. She goes easy--I saw him start her up before. She'll whizz off, I'll bet you!"

The girl turned abruptly. "That's it!" she cried; "let's do that, Mr. Tony!"

In a flash he caught the practical possibility of the scheme. Once at his uncle's and the affair was finished. But common sense gave pause.

"I can't run the thing," he admitted with vexation, "I don't know the first thing about them."

"Oh, that's nothing--they run themselves!" she said competently, "I'm used to them. Hurry--here comes a man, now!"

It was indeed the fact that a burly, self-satisfied creature was advancing towards them, and Antony's blood boiled at the pompous rustic's meaning glance.

"Come, come, Mr. Tony!" she urged excitedly.

"Can you run?" he muttered desperately, "it's no good if you can't, you know."

"Of course I can," she replied, and he noted how different the tones of her voice had grown, how much richer and more alluring. "I can beat you to the car! Come!"

The freckled boy plucked at his coat urgingly, and in a moment, as one flees in dreams, he was dashing down the slight slope that led to the little tableland at the head of the steeper hill where the huge car stood, pointed towards freedom.

A hoarse, suety cry issued from the constable, answered by the farther group; a number of men rushed hastily in their direction, but no one seemed to realise the object of their flight and the way was left clear. The red-headed boy bounded beside them, whooping madly; Nette's pale skirt flashed valiantly a trifle ahead of them; the loose stones rolled under their flying feet.

With a light bound the girl dropped on the wide leather seat, and Antony tumbled in after her, an agile village boy almost at his heels. Even as it was, this boy would have seized him had not the freckled arbiter of their destinies dexterously tripped him, grinning derisively at his downfall as he dashed to the side of the car and panted:

"Let her go, mister, let her go!"

Mechanically Antony grasped the steering wheel as he had seen others grasp it and turned to his companion. But she had toppled breathless against his shoulder and huddled there motionless. He stared helplessly at the approaching pursuit--his head whirled.

"Here, I'll pull it!" cried the red-headed urchin and fumbled mysteriously at Antony's feet. A low, raucous buzzing began forthwith, and as three men dashed up to them triumphantly, the great car shuddered a moment and lurched down the hill, gathering speed with every quarter-second.

There flashed before Antony's eyes a quick panorama of the extended Frenchman, the kneeling doctor, the threatening men; his ears resounded with the gleeful cackle of that freckled Fate who had launched them, and then he faced an empty country road, silent but for the whirring of their chariot. He turned his face to the girl, unconsciously moving the simple steering apparatus so as to keep the car in the middle of the road, while he spoke.

"May I trouble you to take this now?" he said politely. "Your knowledge of this business has undoubtedly saved you a great deal of mortifying bother and delay."

She stiffened sensibly beside him, and in her voice he caught no hint of the momentary rich abandon that he had noticed at the beginning of their flight, for she spoke with the cool and airy dryness of their first meeting.

"My knowledge?" she repeated, with an obviously sincere surprise, "my knowledge? What do you mean? Why should I take it? I never handled a car in my life!"

Antony's fingers stiffened and grew damp against the wheel. For a few sick seconds he sat utterly silent, stunned and incredulous, not knowing what he did, while his hands, with a strange muscular memory all their own of the days when he had propelled a little mechanical velocipede steered by a wheel, kept the whirring vehicle in the centre of the long, empty road.

"Good heavens!" he muttered at last, "I thought you told me--you certainly said--I understood you--oh, the devil!"

"Put your foot on something!" Nette cried feverishly; "that's the way they do! It can't be hard to stop it for just a moment. Put your foot----"

With that she stamped her little white shoe on a round metal disc projecting like a toadstool from the floor in front of her, and immediately, whether from that cause alone, or because Antony unwittingly complicated the manoeuvre by some untoward pressure of knee or wrist, the car, with a tremendous jerk, began to revolve backward upon itself in a dizzy swoop. A moment more had seen them in the deep ditch beside the road, had not Antony dislodged her foot with an ungraceful but timely kick and allowed the mechanism to right itself and lumber into its course again.

"For God's sake, sit still!" he shouted hoarsely. "Is it possible you do not understand you are in danger? Do you wish to kill or maim us both before it is necessary? I order you to sit perfectly quiet until I tell you to jump!"

"Very well," she replied meekly, with a short, frightened intake of the breath, and they sped along.

THE FLIGHT

II.

THE FLIGHT

ANTONY had now--so wonderfully resilient is youth--won sufficient confidence in himself to realise that there was yet a chance of bringing this dangerous expedition to some sort of successful issue, if fate should prosper them with a straight and empty road. They were not, fortunately, travelling at any tremendous rate of speed; though jumping from the car would have been extremely unwise, it remained a possibility, at least, and if, as was fairly probable, the car had already travelled a considerable distance, its motive power would become exhausted sooner or later and they could dismount safely. In a few curt sentences he explained the situation, as it appeared to him, to his companion.

"I must beg you to believe," he concluded, "that I somehow got a distinct impression of your telling me that you were used to managing these things--I cannot understand how I could have made such a mistake. I am particular in repeating this, because in case of accident--and it would be the merest idiocy to deny that a very grave accident is quite likely to happen at any moment--I do not want you to think too hardly of me. But of course your realise that unless I had been quite certain of your ability I should never have attempted such a foolhardy thing."

She made no answer, and at the risk of losing his straight course he stole a rapid glance at her.

To his surprise she was crimson with what was obvious, even to his fleeting view, as embarrassment. Her fingers twisted nervously; the tears that suffused her eyes were certainly not tears of grief or fright. She bit furiously at her under lip, and began more than one sentence that faltered away into confusion. Indeed, they had triumphantly climbed and descended a hill that sent Antony's heart into his throat before she succeeded in the task she evidently loathed but had as evidently determined to fulfil.

"Mr.--Mr. Tony," she began suddenly, alarmed in her turn at their increased speed as they went down the hill, "in case, as you say, anything should happen, I must tell you something. When I said that about--about my running the car perfectly well----"

"You didn't, of course, put it in that way," he interjected, as she seemed unable to go on.

"Oh, didn't I?" she asked. "I thought you said I did."

"You said that they ran themselves, you remember, and that you were used to them," he reminded her, "and I took that to mean----"

"Oh, that's what I said," she repeated, thoughtfully.

"Don't you know what you said?" he demanded, a spasm of terror catching him and quickening his heart-beat as a great waggon loomed into sight horribly near them. Despairingly he glanced at the shining metal paraphernalia that encompassed him--his eye fell upon an unmistakable brass horn at his right, terminating in a rubber bulb. This could be but one thing, and cautiously loosening one clammy hand from the wheel, he pressed the bulb nervously. A loud, harsh cry from its brazen throat relieved him inexpressibly and sent a glow of confidence through him. He repeated the pressure, the driver of the cart looked leisurely around, and with a scowl drew off to one side of the road. Antony's blood resumed its normal pace, and as the course was now clear for a moment, anyway, he repeated his question:

"Don't you know what you said?"

The trees, the full brooks, the grazing cattle, unrolled behind them like a painted ribbon for several seconds before she answered. At length his ear caught a faint, short murmur.

"N--no."

"Why not?" he demanded briefly.

"I would rather not tell you," she replied with a return of her old spirit.

"You must tell me," he said angrily. "Here come two carriages--oh, why did I never notice how they stopped these things? Reach under my arms and squeeze that horn--quick!"

The carriages separated and he went, quaking, between them.

"Now, go on--this luck can hardly last," he warned her. "I intend to know for how much of this nightmare I am responsible."

"You are responsible for all of it, then," she cried recklessly. "You had not the slightest excuse for making me drink all that nasty, burning stuff!"

Regardless of his wheel, Antony turned and stared at her, and only her shriek of terror saved them from the stone wall that bordered a curve in the road.

"You mean you were----"

"If you dare to say it I shall jump!" she interrupted, plucking nervously at her skirt, and he saw that she was quite capable of carrying out the threat.

"But--but you drank it yourself--I thought you knew----" he stammered.

"It was down in my throat--I couldn't help it--I pushed it away as soon as I could--I never tasted anything but champagne and sherry and I thought they were all the same, those things. . ."

She was on the point of tears now, and even in his keen sense of danger Antony was conscious of a gratified consciousness of that calm masculine superiority so long denied him.

"I see, I see," he said hastily. "I am very sorry. I did the best I could at the time: I am not accustomed to resuscitating fainting young ladies and I rather lost my head. I assure you that I assume all the blame."

"I think you had better," she replied vindictively, and Antony's conscious magnanimity collapsed instantly into an intense irritation.

"I must beg you to observe," he said, somewhat jerkily, as they bounced up and down the irregularities of a rough country road, "that I am hardly responsible, even with the best will in the world, for your inability to consume five or six swallows of bad whisky without--without----" in a panic of terror as her hands flew to her skirts and her knees stiffened, he concluded impotently, "oh, have it any way you like! It's all my fault. Now, for heaven's sake, sit still and listen to me. Do you or do you not know anything whatever about motor cars? I ask because it is absolutely necessary," he added hastily.

"I know nothing whatever about them," she returned with an icy finality, an air of uninterested irresponsibility, that maddened even while it appalled him.

"Very good; neither do I," he said. "We are, as you see, on a long, empty, practically uninhabited country road. This is extremely fortunate for us, but it will not last much longer, for we are coming into Huntersville, which was, on the occasion when I last went through it in one of these ungodly machines, full of babies, chickens, unhitched horses, and large, disagreeable dogs. Rather than go through Huntersville I would run this thing at a tree, now. If I could estimate the force of the shock, I'd do it anyway. But I cannot estimate it, and I do not want to frighten you to death. Besides, it might send the thing backward. The same reasoning applies to a steep bank. Now, as I remember it, there is a wild sort of road that turns off to the left very soon and goes up a long hill somewhere or other. I haven't the least idea where, but it must lead to something. My idea would be to go up that road and try to wear the machinery out on it. If it runs into a field, it can't be helped. At any rate, I think there is less risk. Are you willing to try it?"

His sincere and serious manner had its effect and she answered simply, "Anything that you think is best, of course. But could we not experiment a little, and try to stop it? It cannot be anything very complicated, since it has to be done so often."

"No, no, no!" Antony cried nervously, "not while I'm in my right mind! It may seem foolish to you," he continued more stiffly, "but I have reached my limit of experiment. I--I know nothing of any kind of machinery--I loathe it. As soon as I began anything of that sort, my nerve would go. You remember the result when you stamped on that brass knob? Well, I admit that I am not equal to a repetition, to be quite frank."

"I thought men always understood machinery," she murmured impatiently. "All the men I know are quite clever at it."

Now, curiously enough, this pettish and really inexcusable fling did not produce its presumable effect upon Antony. Whether he felt that it was partly justified and that he was really in some sort unworthy of his sex, or whether the actuality of their pressing danger rendered him immune as regards such flighty stabs, is not known, but it remains a fact that he merely pursed his lips indulgently and spoke as follows:

"You are indeed fortunate in your acquaintance. I regret that practice in steering horses, sail boats, bob sleds and to a certain small extent, dirigible balloons, has left me little leisure--and less inclination--for these evil-smelling devil-waggons. Neither the steamfitter nor the engineer has ever appealed to me----"

He ceased abruptly, and as his voice died out she looked questioningly at him, for even her slight acquaintance with the young gentleman had taught her that he was not one to leave a well-planned sentence incomplete from choice.

"What is it?" she asked breathlessly.

"That wild road is on the other side of Huntersville!" he said, with an utter absence of comment that impressed her more deeply than any of his previous conversational embroideries.

Indeed, the pointed spire of the Huntersville church rose white before them and scattered houses even now lined the road.