She must be got to the river and to the river he
would get her.
Pray heaven she never crossed it again.
When they arrived on the pavement outside the inn, he said: "Knock,
mademoiselle, and ask if there is a room. It would be better that I
should not be seen. Explain that the snow prevented you from returning.
If there is a room do not come back to tell me, I shall watch you enter,
and fetch you at six in the morning."
She thanked him again, and following his instructions, found herself
presently in a small room under the eaves--pitied by the innkeeper's
wife, given a hot brick wrapped in flannel by the innkeeper's daughter,
warmed and cheered and, in a very short time, asleep. At half-past five
she was called, dressed herself, and drank a cup of coffee; paying a
fabulous bill which included two francs for the hot brick.
At six came Alfred, in another car, seated beside Foss, the new driver,
a pale man with a grave face. They moved off in the grey dawn which
brightened as they drove. Beyond the Chantilly wall the plain stretched,
and on it the labouring wheel-marks of the night before were plainly
marked. Alfred, beside the driver, let down a pane of glass to tell her
that he had already been out with Foss and towed in the other car. She
saw the ditch into which they had sunk, the scrambled marks upon the
bank where she had been towed out.
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