Gibbs was the first to speak. He examined the burst critically, glanced at the fast disappearing car, and, turning to me, asked:—
“Shall we still try, sir? If you’ll help me we’ll be on the road again in twenty minutes.”
“Yes,” I cried, “let’s try,” and throwing off my coat, I began in earnest to take out the spare tyre while he got out the jack1 and tools.
While I unscrewed the bolts, he jacked up the car, and in ten minutes the burst tyre was off, and we were adjusting the new one. A new inner tube I found under the front seat, and we soon adjusted it, Gibbs pumping it up while I put away the tools and strapped2 on the broken tyre.
I glanced at the clock on the car, and saw that we had been just eighteen minutes, then up we got, and, without much preliminary, moved away again tearing at breakneck speed through Ottery St. Mary and a dreary3 little place called Honiton Clyst, then over a bad road among small and dingy4 houses from Heavitree into Exeter. At the Gordon memorial-lamp we took the right-hand road, found the tram-line and passed up Paris Street into High Street, and on to the cathedral, where we pulled up before the “Clarence,” hoping to obtain some news of the blue “Mercédès.”
It, however, had not been seen. At Pople’s, at the “Globe” and the “Half Moon” we inquired, but without success. The car had not been seen in any of the main streets of the city, therefore we could only conclude that it had passed round the outskirts5 and taken either the Crediton or the Teignmouth road. From south of the city a dozen different ways lead off the Okehampton road, therefore it seemed certain that our unfortunate accident had negatived all our attempts to overtake Mr Murray and his party.
Again we were thwarted6, until Gibbs suddenly recollected7 that in Paris Street we had passed a cycle works where petrol was sold, and we turned the car and made eager inquiry8 there.
Yes. A big blue car had stopped there, and refilled its tank about an hour before. The chauffeur9 had inquired the road to Plymouth, and the manager had advised him to take the road by Bickington, Buckfastleigh and Ivybridge. The distance to Plymouth, we were told, was forty-four miles, therefore thanking our informant we reversed the car and were soon out again on the old coach-road through Alphington and Shillingford, hoping that some similar mishap10 to that which had occurred to us might delay the party we were endeavouring to overtake.
Again we raced along against time, up over the Great Haldon hills where we had grand views across the open country, through old-fashioned villages of the true Devon type, past a quaint11 old mill with high sloping roof, and narrowly escaping a collision with a farmer’s cart just as we were entering Bickington.
Twice we inquired of men we met on the road whether they had seen the car, and each reply was in the affirmative. Therefore we kept an eager look-out far ahead to distinguish the receding12 cloud of dust which would betray its presence.
At full speed we tore along, the motor humming its rhythmic13 music and the dust rising in a dense14 column behind. I shrewdly suspect that before starting Gibbs had smeared15 a little oil across part of the number both front and rear, in order that the dust should render it puzzling to any lurking16 constable17.
“If we don’t get fined for this, sir, we ought to,” declared Gibbs, with a laugh, looking at me through his goggles18, as we sped across a wide-open stretch of moor19 with the head-wind blowing the white dust full in our faces. Down a steep hill we ran until, rounding a sudden bend in the road, an exclamation20 of joy escaped us both, as we saw the car that had evaded21 us so long, stationary22.
The chauffeur was in the act of putting in a new inner tube to one of the back tyres, while the passengers had descended23 and were walking about the road. A couple of farm labourers were looking on, their hands stuck idly in their pockets, and as we approached all turned to look.
My first impulse was to stop and greet Ella, but next instant it occurred to me that as I wore goggles, and an overcoat that she had never seen, I was effectively disguised.
“Slow down, but don’t stop,” I said to Gibbs, and a few moments later we passed the party, without, however, taking any notice of them.
The car was, as the man beside me had said, a splendid “Mercédès” of the latest type, one of the best I had ever seen upon the road. The chauffeur was a smart fellow in uniform, probably French, and the party who were awaiting the repairs consisted of Ella—in a neat champagne-coloured motor-coat, with flat hat and a veil of the same colour with a plate of talc in front instead of glasses—a dark-haired lady somewhat older, also in motor clothes, a youngish man with a round boyish clean-shaven face, and lastly Mr Murray. The latter had so altered that had I met him in the street I should certainly not have recognised him. His beard was now white, his hair grey, and upon his face was a hard careworn24 look, in place of the easy nonchalant air he wore in those well-remembered days when I had been a welcome guest at Wichenford.
Ella was seated upon a stile chatting to her female companion, while her father was standing25 on the road some distance away, in earnest conversation with the young man.
Owing to my disguising dark goggles, I was able to look straight into their faces without fear of recognition. This was fortunate, for at present I had no intention of revealing my identity.
Could that round-faced, fresh-complexioned man be the fellow who, according to my love’s own admission, held her in his power?
The very suspicion maddened me, causing my blood to rise.
Murray appeared to be speaking to him in confidence, giving him certain instructions to which he was enlisting26 attentively27, with brows knit, as though what he heard was far from reassuring28.
Who was the man?
His identity and his relation towards my well-beloved I determined29 to ascertain30.
“Let’s go on slowly into the next place, whatever it is,” I said.
“We’re about five miles from Ashburton, sir,” Gibbs replied.
“I want them to overtake us, and then we can follow them to their destination,” I said.
“They’re going to Plymouth. Wouldn’t it be better for us to go on there an’ wait for ’em?” suggested the man. “It’s now five o’clock, and they’ll probably put up there for the night.”
“No. They are going farther than Plymouth,” I said. “It’s a thousand pities you can’t remember where the chauffeur said they were going.”
“Perhaps the ladies ’ull want tea. If so, they’ll probably pull up at the ‘Golden Lion,’ just as we go into Ashburton. It’s the place where the coaches stop.”
“Then let’s stop there. If they also pull up, well and good. If they don’t, we can follow them,” I said, and five minutes later we came to a standstill before the inn where, at the back, I found a delightful31 garden sloping down towards the valley, where the blaze of colour and the scent32 of flowers were refreshing33 after the heat and dust of the great highway. Without removing my goggles I cast myself into a seat, and ordered a glass of “shandygaff.” Gibbs I had left outside with the car, ordering him to come and tell me when the party passed. That peaceful old garden was just the place in which to sit on a hot summer’s afternoon with all sight and sound of town shut out; only the green hills opposite and their all-pervading fragrance34.
Suddenly, from where I sat, I heard the whirr of an approaching car which came to a standstill before the inn. Would Ella come through into the garden?
I did not wish to meet her with her friends. It was my desire to see her alone. Therefore I jumped to my feet and walked away to the farther end of the garden.
As I expected they came, all four of them, seated themselves at the table I had just vacated, and ordered tea.
For five minutes or so I watched them. Ella, with her veil raised, was talking and laughing merrily with the round-faced young man, while he, bending towards her across the table, appeared fascinated by her glance.
I bit my lip, and turning, made my way through the inn and out into the road, where both cars were standing, and both chauffeurs35 were gossiping.
For another five minutes I waited, then Gibbs, approaching me, touched his cap, and inquired if I were ready, adding under his breath:—
“I’ve found out where they’re goin’, sir. There’s some mystery about them, I believe. I’ll tell you when we get away.”
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1
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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2
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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3
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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thwarted
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| 阻挠( thwart的过去式和过去分词 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
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7
recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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8
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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10
mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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11
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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12
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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13
rhythmic
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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14
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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15
smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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17
constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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18
goggles
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| n.护目镜 | |
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moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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21
evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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stationary
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| adj.固定的，静止不动的 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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careworn
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| adj.疲倦的，饱经忧患的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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26
enlisting
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| v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的现在分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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27
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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28
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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30
ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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31
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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32
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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33
refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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34
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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35
chauffeurs
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| n.受雇于人的汽车司机( chauffeur的名词复数 ) | |
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