It was arranged that, should a car appear after I had passed out of sight, the driver should be accosted, haply deprived of petrol, and certainly dispatched in my pursuit.
Finally we closed Pong, and, feeling extremely self-conscious and unpleasantly hot, I buttoned my overcoat about me and set out for Argelès.
The memory of that walk will stay with me till I die.
If, a few hours before, I had been satisfied that 'Incroyables' seldom sat down, I was soon in possession of most convincing evidence that, come what might, they never did more than stroll. The pantaloons, indeed, curtailed every pace I took. It also became painfully obvious that their 'foot-joy' was intended for use only upon tiled pavements or parquet, and since the surface of the road to Argelès was bearing a closer resemblance to the bed of a torrent, I suffered accordingly. What service their headgear in any conceivable circumstances could have rendered, I cannot pretend to say. As a protection from the rays of the sun, it was singularly futile….
Had I been wearing flannels, I should have been sweltering in a quarter of an hour. Dressed as I was, I was streaming with honest sweat in less than five minutes…. Before I had covered half a mile I tore off my overcoat and flung it behind a wall.
My reception at the first hamlet I reached was hardly promising.
The honour of appreciating my presence before anyone else fell to a pair of bullocks attached to a wain piled high with wood and proceeding slowly in the direction of Lourdes.
Had they perceived an apparition shaking a bloody goad, they could not have acted with more concerted or devastating rapidity.
In the twinkling of an eye they had made a complete volte-face, the waggon was lying on its side across the fairway, and its burden of logs had been distributed with a dull crash upon about a square perch of cobbles.
Had I announced my coming by tuck of drum, I could not have attracted more instant and faithful attention.