I did not know whether to seize the chance and take Berry inside, or whether to put the obstacle between Pong and the terror behind, and I felt I must look at the sheep.

The speedometer dropped to twenty ... to fifteen ... to ten....

Then the tires tore at the road, and we practically stopped.

Adele changed into second speed.

I opened the door instantly, only to see that to collect Berry now was out of the question. The sheep were all round us--like a flood--lapping our sides.

Adele changed into first.

I was physically afraid to look behind.

The next moment we were through.

We stormed round a curve to see a level crossing a quarter of a mile ahead.

_The gates were shut_.

Adele gave a cry of despair.

"Oh, Boy, we're done!"

"Not yet," said I, opening the door again. "Go right up to them, la.s.s.

At least, it'll give us a chance to get Berry inside."

We stopped with a jerk three feet from the rails.

As I ran for the gate, I glanced over my shoulder.

"Now's your chance!" I shouted. "Get..."

I never completed the sentence.

_The English Rose was gone_.

I stopped still in my tracks.

Then I rushed back to the car.

"He's gone!" I cried. "We've dropped him! Quick! Reverse up the way we've come, for all you're worth."

Adele backed the car with the speed and skill of a professional. I stood on the running-board, straining my eyes....

The next moment a dilapidated touring car tore round the bend we were approaching and leapt towards us.

It pa.s.sed us with locked wheels, rocking to glory.

At a nod from me, Adele threw out the clutch...

As the mechanics came up--

"I'm sorry, _Messieurs_," I said, "but I fear you've pa.s.sed him. No, he's not here. Pray look in the car.... Quite satisfied? Good. Yes, we dropped him a long way back. We thought it wiser."

With that I wished them 'Good day,' and climbed into our car.

"But what shall we do?" said Adele.

"Get home," said I, "as quick as ever we can. So long as we stay hereabouts, those fellows'll stick to us like glue. We must go and get help and come back. Berry'll hide somewhere where he can watch the road."

As we pa.s.sed over the level crossing, I looked behind.

The dilapidated grey car was being turned round feverishly.

Forty-five minutes later we sped up the shadowy drive and stopped by our own front door.

'Pierrette' switched off the engine and sat looking miserably before her.

"I wish," she said slowly, "I wish you'd let me go with you. I did hate leaving him so, and I'd feel----"

With a hand on the door, I touched her pale cheek.

"My darling," said I, "you've done more than your bit--far more, and you're going straight to bed. As for leaving him--well, you know how much I liked it, but I know when I'm done."

"_'Tis the last rose of summer, Left blooming alone...._"

Delivered with obvious emotion in a m.u.f.fled baritone voice, Moore's famous words seemed to come from beneath us.

Adele and I stared at one another with starting eyes....

Then I fell out of the car and clawed at the flap of the d.i.c.key....

My hands were trembling, but I had it open at last.

Her head pillowed upon a spare tube, the ruin of 'An English Rose'

regarded me coyly.

"I think you might have knocked," she said, simpering. "Supposing I'd been _en deshabille_!"

CHAPTER XII

HOW A TELEGRAM CAME FOR JILL, PIERS DEMANDED HIS SWEETHEART, AND I DROVE AFTER MY WIFE