Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-10-05

the thought came to him. "Your car
could the wreck be identified
ats number-we must find that and de-
stroy it"
They went down the hill together and,
eyed by the curious peasants, sauntered
down the track; where Markham, after
some searching among the bushes, found the
number of the machine still clinging to the
ruins of the radiator This he unstrapped
and slipped into his knapsack, presently
Joining Hernia, who was making her peace
with the gatekeeper.
1.-TWO tires, one wheel, the speedometer,"
she was saying in French. Il will leave them
for you to sell, Madame, if you can. And
Monsieur-he may have whatever else is
left That is understood between you, and
these gentlemen will bear witness. AS for
me, never will l ride in an automobile again!
If it pleases you, say nothing more of this
than may be necessary. Adieu, Madame ct
Monsieur
There were offers of conveyance to Evreux
flor a consideration which Markham re-
fused, and the two companions took to the
road and soon passed out of sight, leaving
the group of peasants staring after them,
still mVStihed as to the whole occur
renee, and wondering with Norman stolidity
whether Hernia was mad or just fool
A S Hernia followed Markham over the
ridge and down the long slope that led
to Vagabondia a deep-drawn breath of de-
light escaped her.
The gray road descended slowly into
valley, already filled with the long shadows
of the afternoon,-a valley of ripening crops
laid out in lozenges of green and purple and
gold, like harlequin suit, girdled at the
waist by the blue ribbon of the river; a cap
of green and purple where a clunp of young
oaks perched jauntily on the bald contour
of the distant hilltops 'bove; a sky of blue
fecked with saffron ana silver like tur-
quoise matrix; against which the tall poplars
marched in stately procession, their feathery
tops nodding solemnly at the sun.
1t was curious. From car the landscape
had never looked like this. Indeed, when
she was motoring, Hernia never saw any
thing much but the stretch of road in front
of her, its bitches, and its speed signs
She glanced up at Markham, who strobe
silently beside her. his pipe hanging bowl
downward from his teeth, his lips smiling
under the shadowy mustache, his eyes blink
ing merrily at the sky. She guessed now at
the reason for the serenity in his face, as to
which she had been so curious. 1t was the re-
Election of the wide blue vault above him, the
quiet river, and the dignity of the distances.
Hernia paused and drank the air in gulps.
@Vagabondia! You've opened its gates to
me- John Markham"
He looked around at her in amusement.
@There are no gates in Vagabondia, Miss
Challoner-"
Miss Challoner!" she reproved him.
Hernia, then. Do you realize, you very
mischievous young person, that this is pre-
cisely the fourth time you and | have met!
Il shall call you John, just the same, she
announced.
@By all means, or Phillidor: anything
else would be rather silly in the circum-
stances. You aren't regretting this mad
ness? There's still time to reconsider
NO." promptly, ave burned my bridges.
Forward, Monsieur!"
THE next rise of land brought into view
the houses of a small town huddled
among the trees along the river bank. They
were still on the main line of communication
between Paris and the coast, and here per-
haps they would find telephone or tele-
graph office. Hernia made a wry face.
Il didn't know there were any telephones
in Vagabondia.
@There aren't We haven't reached there
vet He glanced at her modish French
crit and hat and down at the English leather