A. T. Quiller-Couch

“ Merridew, a rowing man of vast bulk (dead these five years, poor fellow!) ; little Pitt, alias the Pitling, alias the Immortal Billy; Garrymore, who goes about nowadays as a bloated earl; and I. I never quite knew how Wilkins had happened on Goon Farm, or why he chose it, unless it were that, being ten miles from the sea, even more remote from a golf links, with no society within measurable distance—— I beg your pardon."
"You need not beg anybody's pardon," Lady Vepe assured him. "Nobody in the neighbourhood entertained in those days." ”

“ We ran like two aimless fools down the road. But the noises of car and coach died away, and pursuit was plainly impossible. We retraced our steps, and found our companions chatting with the gang of men around the chaise. They were real enough, at all events. Having wisely decided that the axle was beyond repairing—at any rate, before daylight—they walked us back to Tantivy Corner, where—still as if we were living back a hundred years—we found the stables alight with lanterns hanging by the stalls. ”

“ As for Jack, he had been learning with a motor-car firm in London, and was home for his holiday, so that part of the business came easy to him. Also, knowing the roads, it was easy for us to bring the car around to Goon Moor before you returned. But Jack behaved so sillily by the way, and the drive in the moonlight was so heavenly, that you almost caught us. As it was, we had just time to slip out and watch your discovery from behind the escallonia hedge. Then we raced back to Tantivy Corner, to help in dismantling the stables. ”

“ So, as I say, having changed our dancing shoes for stout boots, unstabled the car and lit the lamps, we bowled out of Truro, the streets of which already lay about four inches deep in snow.
"Billy, to do him justice, drove with great skill and a good deal less than his usual recklessness, while the car—as Garrymore pointed out, claiming that it confirmed his theory—really seemed to be enjoying itself. I dare say, though, that we owed as much to luck as to good management, and I have a notion that, after passing safely through Probus, Billy began to nod. ”

“ Bagshot, now intent on his climax, and not to be diverted, "and I saw the young man slip an arm around the lady to comfort her. Her shoulders heaved as she bent towards him and sobbed. They made a pretty silhouette against the glare of our lamps. They—the lamps and our car—were real, at any rate. I said a word in Billy's ear, and Billy walked up and touched the lady by the elbow.
"'By your leave, miss,' said Billy. 'I can't say that I understand this at all, but if you two are after running for it—why, I'm one to help a fellow-sportsman. There's just room here to turn the car. ”

“ Let me see—— Yes, certainly we must have enjoyed ourselves, because it was not until two in the morning that we collected our party, got out the car, and started for home. We should have stayed to the very end had not the Pitling reported that snow was still falling, and—let alone the difficulty of steering in such weather, with all the usual features of the road effaced—a very little more of it might prove too much for the always uncertain temper of Max-Prest. ”

“ Then we might get the car past and push on to lend a hand. Here, Merridew, you and Bagshot get a lift on.'
"'But I tell you there ain't any stables!' Merridew protested. 'The place is a ruin, and has been for these fifty years.'
"'It doesn't greatly matter just now,' explained Billy, with great lucidity, 'which of us is drunk or which is sober. The point is, that we all do something, seeing the lady's in a hurry. What's the time, by the way?'
He pulled out his fob-watch and held it to one of the lamps. ”

“ The place, if I mistake not, lies less than two miles from where we are sitting—a turning off the Truro road, called Tantivy Corner."
"Eh? What's that?" Sir John, catching the name, spoke up from his end. "Tantivy Corner? Hullo, Bagshot, what the deuce do you know of Tantivy Corner, that you speak of it so pat? The name's almost forgotten, even in these parts."
"There's a sort of wayside barn a stone's-throw down the cross-road," answered Mr. Bagshot. "A line of stables, it used to be." ”

“ You catch a man young and make a parson of him, or you make a constable of him, and henceforth he's 'the man in the white choker' or 'the man in blue,' as it may be—a man separated from his fellows, anyway, and wearing a uniform-to remind him of it. ”