The Princess Passes

								

to look unconcerned. I think I must have seen this with my ears, as
both eyes were fully occupied in searching a way through the surging
current of street traffic, but I did see it. I was pleased to find
that I was the better actor of the two, for Gotteland's attitude
revealed a strained alertness. He was like a woman sitting beside a
driver of skittish horses, saying to herself: "No, I won't scream or
seize the reins till I must!"
A sneaking impulse pricked me to take the easiest way, by the Rue de
Rivoli, and across the Place de la Concorde, but I shook myself free
of it, and with high resolve turned the car towards the Boulevards,
determined that, if Molly won her bet, it should be well won. A sailor
steering a quivering smack towards harbour in a North Sea hurricane;
an Indian guiding a bark canoe through the leaping rapids of a swollen
river: to both of these I likened myself as the dragon threaded in and
out among the adverse streams of traffic. The great crossing by the
Opéra was a whirling maelstrom; a policeman with a white staff,
scowled when he should have pitied; I felt alone in chaos before the
creation of the world. As for Noah and his ark, not an experience
could he have had that I might not have capped it before I reached the
Bois.
If I have a guardian spirit, I am sure that to numberless other good
qualities he adds the skill of an accomplished motorist; for if he did
not get the car to Madrid, without a single scratch upon her brilliant
body, I do not know who did. I have no distinct memories, after the
first, yet when we arrived at our destination, Gotteland generously
complimented, and as I did not care to go into psychological
explanations, I accepted his eulogium. It was Jack, not Molly, who
paid for the dinner at Madrid, and it was a good one.
Next morning early we started on our way again. Jack driving, and I
watching his prowess. I was now as anxious to meet dogs belligerently
inclined towards motors, as I had been to avoid them, but it was not
until we were well past Fontainebleau that the chance for which I
yearned, arrived. Suddenly we came upon a yard of Dachshund wandering
lizard-like across the road, accompanied by a pert Spitz. The waddler
prudently retired, but the Spitz, with all the disproportionate
courage of a knight of old attacking a fire-breathing dragon, lanced
himself in front of the car. After all, what are dragons but strange,
new things which we know nothing about and therefore detest? This
brave little knight detested us, and with magnificent self-confidence
essayed to punish us for troubling his existence.
My hand flew to my pocket, but paused, even as it grasped the water
pistol. The dog was small, the weapon large. A fierce jet of water
propelled from its muzzle might blow the breath from that tiny body,
which my sole wish was to warn from under the wheels of Juggernaut.
However, he was persistent, and was in real danger, since to avoid an