Celt, Roman, Visigoth, Moor, Englishman—all these have held Poitiers in turn. Proud of their tenure, lest History should forget, three at least of them have set up their boasts in stone. The place was, I imagine, a favourite. Kings used her, certainly. Dread Harry Plantagenet gave her a proud cathedral. Among her orchards Coeur de Lion worshipped Jehane, jousted, sang of a summer evening, and spent his happiest days. Beneath her shadow the Black Prince lighted such a candle of Chivalry as has never yet been put out. Not without honour of her own countrymen, for thirteen years the High Court of Parliament preferred her to Paris. Within her walls the sainted Joan argued her inspiration.
I have dived at random into her wallet, yet see what I have brought forth. If memories are precious, Poitiers is uncommon rich.
As if to console us for our departure, the road to Sister Angoulême was superb. Broad, straight, smooth as any floor, the great highway stretched like a strip of marquetry inlaid upon the countryside. Its invitation was irresistible….
We reached the windy town in time for a late tea.
As soon as this was over, Berry and I escaped and carried Pong off to a garage, there to be oiled and greased against the morrow's race. Somewhat to our amusement, before we had been there ten minutes, our cousin arrived with Ping and the same object. Had the incident occurred at Poitiers, I should have been encouraged as well. It was another sign that Jonah did not despise his opponents, and his opinion was worth having. As it was, the compliment left me unmoved….
The truth was, Berry had that afternoon contracted two habits. Again and again on the way from Poitiers he had shown a marked tendency to choke his engine, and five times he had failed to mesh the gears when changing speed. Twice we had had to stop altogether and start again. He had, of course, reproached himself violently, and I had made light of the matter. But, for all the comfort I offered him, I was seriously alarmed. In a word, his sudden lapse suggested that my brother-in-law was entering that most unpleasant stage which must be traversed by all who will become chauffeurs and are taught, so to speak, to run before they can walk.
It was after we had dined, and when my wife and I were seated—myself, by virtue of my injury, upon a couch, and she upon a cushion beside me—before the comfort of a glowing log-fire, that Adèle laid down the Guide and leaned her head against my knee.
"I'm glad I married you," she said.
I looked at Nobby.
"So are we both," said I.