A straight rush up an easy incline towards a turning ahead, and the

deep note of the horn; round the corner to the right, close in; the

flash of a bicycle coming down on the wrong side, and swerving

desperately; a little brittle smashing of steel; then a man sprawling

on his face in the road as the motor car flew on.

Logotheti kept his eyes on the road, one hand went down to the levers

and the machine sprang forward at forty miles an hour.

'Stop!' cried Margaret. 'Stop! you've killed him!' Full speed. Fifty miles an hour now, on another level stretch beyond

the turn. No sign of intelligence from Logotheti. Both hands on the

wheel.

'Stop, I say!' Margaret's voice rang out clear and furious.

Logotheti's hands did not move. Margaret knew what to do. She had often

been in motor cars and had driven a little herself. She was strong and

perfectly fearless. Before Logotheti saw what she was going to do, she

was beside him, she had thrown herself across him and had got at the

brake and levers. He was too much surprised to make any resistance; he

probably would not have tried to hinder her in any case, as he could

not have done so without using his strength. The car was stopped in a

few seconds; he had intuitively steered it until it stood still.

'How ridiculous!' he exclaimed. 'As if one ever stopped for such a

thing!' Margaret's eyes flashed angrily and her answer came short and sharp.

'Turn back at once,' she said, and she sat down beside him on the front

seat.

He obeyed, for he could do nothing else. In running away from the

accident, he had simply done what most chauffeurs do under the

circumstances. His experience told him that the man was not killed,

though he had lain motionless in the road for a few moments. Logotheti

had seen perfectly well that the car had struck the hind wheel of the

bicycle without touching the man's body. Moreover, the man had been on

the wrong side of the road, and it was his fault that he had been run

into. Logotheti had not meant to give him a chance to make out a case.

But now he turned back, obedient to Margaret's command. Before she had

stopped the car it had run nearly a mile from the scene of the

accident. When it reached the spot again, coming back at a more

moderate pace, nearly five minutes had elapsed. She found the man

leaning against the rail fence that followed the outer curve of the

turning. It was the man they had so often met on the other road, in his

square-toed kid boots and ill-fitting clothes; it was Edmund

Lushington, with his soft student's hat off, and his face a good deal

scratched by the smashing of his tortoise-shell-rimmed spectacles. They

had been tied behind with a black string, and the rims of them, broken

in two, hung from his ears. His nose was bleeding profusely, as he

leaned against the fence, holding his head down. He was covered with

mud, his clothes were torn, and he was as miserable, damaged and

undignified a piece of man as ever dreaded being taken at disadvantage

by the idol of his affections. He would have made a pact with the

powers of evil for a friendly wall or a clump of trees when he saw the

car coming back. There was nothing but the fence.




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024