The car was closed, and its canopy was fixed: the road was narrow, and, in his endeavours to turn, the driver was bringing his charge directly below where I hung. For me to alight on its roof was the easiest thing in the world, and, once I was there, lying flat, although there was no luggage-rail, I could grip the canopy’s edge above the driver, for a shield, which is called a “sun-visor,” was there to conceal my hands.
In a flash I was sitting sideways upon the bough, and, as the car came back for the last time, I stepped gingerly on to its roof, trusting to my rubber-soled shoes to make no noise. I was flat in an instant, or the branch would have knocked me down, and a moment later I had fast hold of the rim which was to keep me steady and save me from sliding off.
As the car thrust forward—
“Bunch,” said Rose Noble to the driver, “if you see that cyclist, run him down.”
“You bet,” said Bunch, and put the car at the hill with the rush of a bull.
I was not much alarmed for Bell’s safety, for I was quite certain that he had observed Rose Noble and, if he was yet upon the road, had only to hear the car coming to disappear. Indeed, I had my work cut out to think for myself, for the road was none too even and I was mortally afraid of losing my place.
Bunch was a good driver and swooped at his corners in a spectacular way, but, whenever he swung the car round, I had to fight like a madman to stay where I was, and if the fowls of the air have a sense of humour my progress must have afforded them infinite mirth. Except for one sharp descent, our road continued to rise or to keep the height it had won; and so far as I can remember we met no other vehicle. Two or three peasants passed, and the sight of them staring at me sent my heart to my mouth; but no one of those in the car seemed to notice their gaze, or, if they did, to find it curious.
At last we came to crossroads, where we turned to the right, and very soon after, we left the road for a drive which led into a wood so artlessly and was so shrouded with moss and the litter the trees had made that a man might have passed it by, as promising nothing at all. Yet in less than two minutes of time the wood was behind us, and we were heading for a castle which seemed to me to command all the kingdoms of the earth.
We were now upon the spur of a mountain, and, I judged, some three thousand feet up. The drive ran straight down the spur, the sides of which were plainly precipitous, for, after a little, the turf which flanked the drive fell suddenly out of sight. The whole of the end of the spur was masked by the castle’s façade, and it was easy to see that the building had been set on the spur as the nail upon a man’s finger, that is to say, moated on three of its sides by God knows what depths and accessible only on the fourth.
The walls were high and massive, rose into battlements and looked as good as new; and the place had an air of being old rather than ancient and more of an aerie than a keep. It was clearly inhabited, for there were blinds in its windows and smoke was rising from some chimney I could not see. Indeed, I could see nothing beyond the great façade, except a crocketed spire which stood up on the left. A stout, round tower rose at each end of the wall: these were corniced and had red, conical roofs: in the midst of the wall was a gateway, the great doors of which were shut.
I was now trembling with excitement, for the castle, of course, was the goal to which we had been trying to come, but what carried me away was the knowledge that I was about to be landed within its walls. Once I was in, and my presence unsuspected, who could tell what might not come about?
A yard or so from the gateway Bunch brought the car to rest. As he did so, his passengers alighted and passed at once to a wicket, cut out of the left-hand door. Then a bell clanged, and almost at once I heard steps. There was a grill in the wicket, and somebody drew its shutter to look between its bars. Whoever it was must have seen me, had not Rose Noble’s head been in the way.
“All right?” I heard him say.
“OK,” said the other, and opened the little door. Rose Noble and Casemate passed in.
Now, as soon as the car had stopped, I had moved as far as I could to the right of the canopy, so as to make the most of what cover I had: whether I moved again was depending on where the man stood who admitted the car. With one of the great doors set wide the car could pass in, and, if, as I fully expected, the left-hand door was opened, the porter was sure to hold it and I should be out of his sight.
Now so much fell out very well. Only one door was opened, and that was the left: I saw the hands of the porter pulling it back: but the door had been made in two halves, and, while the lower swung open, the upper stayed fast.
The car was about to pass in—with three inches of headroom to spare, and, if I stayed on her roof, I should be swept off or crushed—probably crushed.
Had I
