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The Lightning Conductor
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Eighth of England, who with a train of a hundred knights rode up the sloping way in the tower. To-day is the first time that an automobile has ever been inside the doors; therefore, mademoiselle, you have just been making history." And he bowed so deliciously that I could have cried, because I hadn't my purse with me to give him a "guerdon"; that would have been the only word, if I had had it. Fortunately Brown had. Something yellow glittered as it passed from hand to hand, and the old Frenchman (so dramatic, like most of his countrymen) bowed again and took off his hat with a flourish. If the something hadn't been yellow, but only white, I wonder if he would have let us make that splendid, sweeping circle round the gardens before we plunged back into the cool gloom of the tower?

Oh, that descent! I feel breathless, just remembering it, but it was a glorious kind of breathlessness, like you feel when you go tobogganing—only more so. Brown took it at tremendous speed, but I wasn't a bit afraid, for I trust him utterly as a driver. If he said he could take me safely over Niagara Falls, and looked straight at me in a way he has when he said it, I believe I'd—go unless, of course, you objected!

I found myself thinking of Poe's descent of the Maelström, and when I said so to Brown afterwards, it turned out that he'd read it. He had the car perfectly in hand, and steered it to a hair's breadth. We were down in a moment—or it seemed so; and coming out into the bright little streets was like waking up after a strange dream. In three minutes