"Home? Now? It’s hard. It’s cruel hard," said Leggatt, almost with a sob.
Hinchcliffe outlined my car’s condition briefly to the two engineers. Mr. Pyecroft clung to our guest, who stared with affrighted eyes at the palpitating Octopod; and the free wind of high Sussex whimpered across the ling.
"I am quite agreeable to walkin’ ’ome all the way on my feet," said our guest. "I wouldn’t go to any railway station. It ’ud be just the proper finish to our little joke." He laughed nervously.
"What’s the evolution?" said Pyecroft. "Do we turn over to the new cruiser?"
I nodded, and he escorted our guest to the tonneau with care. When I was in, he sat himself broad-armed on the little flap-seat which controls the door. Hinchcliffe sat by Kysh.
"You drive?" Kysh asked, with the smile that has won him his chequered way through the world.
"Steam only, and I’ve about had my whack for to-day, thanks."
"I see."
The long, low car slid forward and then dropped like a bullet down the descent our steam toy had so painfully climbed. Our guest’s face blanched, and he clutched the back of the tonneau.
"New commander’s evidently been trained on a destroyer," said Hinchcliffe.
"What’s ’is wonderful name?’ whispered Pyecroft. "Ho! Well, I’m glad it ain’t Saul we’ve
