of disappointment at the thought of a duel with pistols trailing off into one with golf clubs.
“Yes, but that’s a blind,” panted Diva. “They were talking and laughing together. Sheer blind! Duel among the sand-dunes!”
“Padre, it is your duty to stop it,” said Miss Mapp faintly.
“But if the pistols are in a portmanteau—” he began.
“What portmanteau?” screamed Diva, who hadn’t heard about that.
“Darling, I’ll tell you presently,” said Miss Mapp. “That was only a guess of mine, Padre. But there’s no time to lose.”
“But there’s no tram to catch,” said the Padre. “It has gone by this time.”
“A taxi then, Padre! Oh, lose no time!”
“Are you coming with me?” he said in a low voice. “Your presence—”
“Better not,” she said. “It might— Better not,” she repeated.
He skipped down the steps and was observed running down the street.
“What about the portmanteau?” asked the greedy Diva.
It was with strong misgivings that the Padre started on his Christian errand, and had not the sense of adventure spiced it, he would probably have returned to his sermon instead, which was Christian, too. To begin with, there was the ruinous expense of taking a taxi out to the golf-links, but by no other means could he hope to arrive in time to avert an encounter that might be fatal. It must be said to his credit that, though this was an errand
