He was not around anywhere.
We struggled to the right, we fought our way to the left, we pushed and were pushed back to the pharmacie, and we returned laboriously to our starting-point. All the time we were devilled by the lingering idea that Berry was searching for us, and that we were just avoiding him at every turn. After another two minutes, I took my protesting wife back to the chemist's shop, requested his hospitality on her behalf, and, after seeing her received by a glowing Frenchwoman into an inner room, turned up my collar and advanced blasphemously into the street.
Almost immediately Berry stumbled into my arms.
"The car!" he gasped. "A plant! Quick! Or they'll do us down!"
I stared at him stupidly.
His coat was torn and he was streaming with sweat. Also his hat was missing, and there was a cut on his cheek.
"You're hurt," I cried.
"Right as rain," he panted. "Tell you 's we go." He started to pelt up the street. I ran by his side. "'Bout two minutes after you'd gone—fellow ran up t' the car in hell of a state—firs' couldn' make out what matter was—talked too fast—then gathered, you'd sent him—Adèle had been taken ill—lie, of course—see now—never occurred to me at time—told him get on step and guide me—burst off up street—lef' ri' lef stunt—'fore knew where I was, cul de sac—pulled up—nex' second, both doors open and toughest cove 've ever seen told me t' hop it—in bad American—round to t' left here—course I tumbled at once—dirty work—tried t' hit him—nothing doing—tried to lock car—couldn't—hauled out anyhow—no good yelling—ran find you—one ray hope—out of petrol—I never stopped engine—petered out on its own—can on step, I know—but they'll have to locate trouble—and then decant—left again here … no … wait." He looked from side to side anxiously. Then he swung round and glanced back. "Gad, I think we're wrong." He started back frantically. "No, that's right. I 'member that café." We swung round again. Arrived once more at the corner, again he hesitated, twitching his lips nervously and sobbing for want of breath. "These blasted streets," he jerked out. "I tried to memorise 'em, but—— There they are, Boy! There they are!"
It was true.
Turning away from us into a street on our left, about forty paces away, was our own blue coupé….