Odds and ends

: : : By B. M. Croker : : : Author of “Her Own People,” “In Old Madras,” “The Company’s Servant,” “Given in Marriage,” “Bridget,” “Blue China,” etc.
LONDON: HUTCHINSON & CO. : : PATERNOSTER ROW : :
ODDS AND ENDS
“What is the matter? What has happened?” asked Aunt Lizzie. “Just open the window and find out,” she added, with her usual brisk decision.
It was nine o’clock on a dull September evening, and we two ladies were seated side by side in a 40 h.p. Daimler, which had suddenly come to a full stop on a country road, in the west of Ireland. On either hand stretched a wide expanse of dark mysterious country, to which the white waving bog cotton gave a ghostly, weird appearance. Black water in neighbouring bog-holes flashed back on us like phantom eyes, a dazzling reflection of the motor’s huge lamps. Undoubtedly our outlook was sombre and discouraging—as if the land nurtured some secret sorrow that no stranger could properly understand. The moon had not yet risen, but was shyly peeping at us from behind a low range of distant hills; not a soul was in sight, nor a sound to be heard, except the cry of a belated curlew, and the voices of our men; the car itself had ceased to throb.
As the chauffeur came to the window, and touched his cap, my aunt said:
“Have you missed the road, Watkin? Or is it a breakdown?”
“I’m afraid it’s a bit of both, ma’am. You see, these ’ere cross-country roads is terrible puzzling, and I’m thinking we took the wrong turn about three mile back. Then there’s been a kind of a mishap to the car—this extra twenty miles and bad road has done it. If we had stopped at Mulligooley for the night I was going to overhaul her, and have her all right for the morning.”
Watkin (an old servant) was obviously aggrieved; he had no sympathy with his mistress’s continual craving to push on, and would have preferred to spend the night in a poky country hotel, sup and smoke comfortably, and brag a little about his car.