|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 7
At West Haven Green Winthrop turned out of the track of the
racing monsters into a quiet street leading to the railroad
station, and with a half-sigh, half-laugh, leaned back
comfortably.
"Those lights coming up suddenly make it hard to see," he
said.
"Hard to breathe," snorted Sam; "since that first car missed
us, I haven't drawn an honest breath. I held on so tight that
I squeezed the hair out of the cushions."
When they reached the railroad station, and Sam had finally
fought his way to the station master, that half-crazed
official informed him he had missed the departure of Mrs.
Taylor Holbrooke's car by just ten minutes.
Brother Sam reported this state of affairs to his companions.
"God knows we asked for the fish first," he said; "so now
we've done our duty by Ernest, who has shamefully deserted us,
and we can get something to eat, and go home at our leisure.
As I have always told you, the only way to travel
independently is in a touring-car."
At the New Haven House they bought three waiters, body and
soul, and, in spite of the fact that in the very next room the
team was breaking training, obtained an excellent but chaotic
dinner; and by eight they were on their way back to the big
city.
The night was grandly beautiful. The waters of the Sound
flashed in the light of a cold, clear moon, which showed them,
like pictures in silver print, the sleeping villages through
which they passed, the ancient elms, the low-roofed cottages,
the town hall facing the common. The post road was again
empty, and the car moved as steadily as a watch.
"Just because it knows we don't care now when we get there,"
said Brother Sam, "you couldn't make it break down with an
axe."
From the rear, where he sat with Fred, he announced he was
going to sleep, and asked that he be not awakened until the
car had crossed the State line between Connecticut and New
York. Winthrop doubted if he knew the State line of New York.
"It is where the advertisements for Besse Baker's twenty-seven
stores cease," said Sam drowsily, "and the billposters of
Ethel Barrymore begin."
In the front of the car the two young people spoke only at
intervals, but Winthrop had never been so widely alert, so
keenly happy, never before so conscious of her presence.
And it seemed as they glided through the mysterious moonlit
world of silent villages, shadowy woods, and wind-swept bays
and inlets, from which, as the car rattled over the planks of
the bridges, the wild duck rose in noisy circles, they alone
were awake and living.
The silence had lasted so long that it was as eloquent as
words. The young man turned his eyes timorously, and sought
those of the girl. What he felt was so strong in him that it
seemed incredible she should be ignorant of it. His eyes
searched the gray veil. In his voice there was both challenge
and pleading.
"`Shall be together,'" he quoted, "`breathe and ride. So, one
day more am I deified; who knows but the world may end
to-night?'"
The moonlight showed the girl's eyes shining through the veil,
and regarding him steadily.
"If you don't stop this car quick," she said, "the world
WILL end for all of us."
He shot a look ahead, and so suddenly threw on the brake that
Sam and the chauffeur tumbled awake. Across the road
stretched the great bulk of a touring-car, its lamps burning
dully in the brilliance of the moon. Around it, for greater
warmth, a half-dozen figures stamped upon the frozen ground,
and beat themselves with their arms. Sam and the chauffeur
vaulted into the road, and went toward them.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|