happen now? I suppose we're not safe from trouble yet, and we don't deserve to be."
I thought it rather sporting of her to say "we," when all the bother was due to the conceit and cocksureness of one person.
"No, miss, we don't deserve to be, if you'll excuse the liberty," I meekly replied. "We had no business charging along a crowded road the way we did. I'm sure, until to-day, we've never had anything but courtesy from people of all classes. It isn't often French peasants misbehave themselves, and to-day most of the wrong was on our side, though it's true that their horse was skittish; and being market-day, I daresay they'd taken a little more red wine than was good for them. The wine of this country is apt to go to the head."
I spoke to Miss Randolph, but at Jimmy, especially when I gave that dig about the wine. I finished my tirade and my work on the silencer at the same time, and it was then that my triumph came. Instead of getting back on the car, I stood still in the road.
"What are you waiting for?" asked Miss Randolph.
"For Mr. Payne to take his place in the driver's seat," said I.
At this he half jumped up in the tonneau, but Miss Randolph hurriedly exclaimed, "Oh, I think you had better drive for a while, Brown. I want to talk to you, and ask you what to do, and what will happen next." Little Lord Fauntleroy, with every Sherlockian characteristic temporarily obliterated, sat down again in the tonneau pouting.
