Presently was heard the ‘birr’ of the electric motor-car from the direction of the outbuildings, and then the vehicle flashed down the boreen at fifteen or twenty miles an hour. Owing partly to the darkness and partly to the height of the glazed ‘cab’ of the machine, a contrivance designed by Mr. Craig himself, the driver of the car could not be recognised, but both Richard and Teresa thought that it could be no other than Raphael Craig, and, further, that he was alone. Just as the car passed Juana’s mare whinnied, and there was an answering whinny from the orchard field where, as it afterwards appeared, Mr. Craig’s two mares had been turned out to grass. But the car showed no inclination to halt.
‘Sure, the master will be after taking it away!’ Bridget exclaimed.
‘Taking what away, Bridget?’ Juana asked.
‘Micky’s cor——’
‘Silence, Bridget, you foolish creature!’ Teresa stopped her. ‘If you can’t talk sense you must go and sit in the kitchen alone.’
This threat resulted in a very complete silence on the part of Bridget.
The car turned southwards down Watling Street.
‘He is going to the chalk-pit,’ said Richard quietly.
‘Perhaps we had better follow discreetly and see what happens,’ said Teresa.
‘I was about to suggest that,’ said Richard; ‘but we ought not all to go.’