The next minute the machine passed us, going at the rate of 14
constables an hour, and as it did so Parsifal stopped still and
seemed to be biting his lips with suppressed emotion.
I coaxed him to proceed in English, in Spanish and Italian, and
then in a pale blue language of my own, but he just stood there and
bit his lips.
I believe if he had possessed fingernails he would have bitten them
too.
I gave the reins to my wife with instructions how to act if the
horse started, and I jumped out to argue with him.
Just when I had picked out a good-sized rock, which was to be my
argument, Parsifal came out of his trance and started off, but
Peaches forgot her instructions and spoke above a whisper and he
stopped again.
Then I took the reins, cracked the whip, shouted a couple of
banzais from the Japanese national anthem, and away we rushed like
the wind--when it isn't blowing hard.
The hours flew by and we must have gone at least half a mile, when
another Kerosene Wagon came bouncing towards us from the opposite
direction.
In it was a happy party of ladies and gentlemen, who were laughing
and chatting about some people they had just run over.
Parsifal saw them coming and stopped still in the middle of the
road.
Pages:
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54