‘Where is the electric car?’ Richard demanded, almost gruffly. ‘They may have missed that.’
‘I don’t know. It ought to be here,’ Teresa replied.
‘They have taken him off in his own car,’ was Richard’s comment ‘We can do nothing.’
‘The horses,’ said Teresa.
‘No horses that were ever bred could overtake that car, or even keep up with it for a couple of miles.’
They walked back to the house, and met Bridget.
‘Is it the illictric car ye’re wanting?’ she asked, with the intuition of an Irishwoman.
‘It’s in the far shed.’
With one accord Richard and Teresa ran back to the far end of the range of buildings. There stood the car, in what had once been the famous silver shed.
‘I saw the master put it there this very morning as ever is,’ said Mrs. Bridget, who had followed them, as Richard jumped on to the driving-seat.