Off they went--in a pitch-black night, I'm told--" "We know that!" said Vickers with a glance at Copplestone.

"We motored from Norcaster--just about the same time." "Well," continued Gilling, "it was at any rate so dark that Swallow's driver, who appears to have been a very nervous chap, made very poor progress.

Also he took one or two wrong turnings.

Finally he ran his car into a guide post which stood where two roads forked--and there Swallow was landed, scarcely halfway to Scarhaven.

They couldn't get the car to move, and it was some time before Swallow could persuade the landlord at the nearest inn to hire out a horse and trap to him.