Barbara in Brittany

by E. A. Gillie

She had gone but a little way, however, when she saw another cyclist approaching, and, thinking that here was a chance to find out if she were right before going any farther, she jumped off her machine and stood waiting. When the new-comer was quite close to her she noticed that he was not a very prepossessing individual, and remembered that she had been warned in foreign countries always to look at people before speaking to them. But it was too late then. So making the best of it, she asked boldly which was the nearest way to Dol. The man stared at her for a moment, then said she should go straight on, and would soon arrive at the highroad.

"But I will conduct you so far if you like, madame," he added.

Barbara had seen him looking rather intently at her watch and chain, however, and began to feel a little uneasy.

"Oh, no, thank you," she rejoined hastily. "I can manage very well myself," and, springing on to her bicycle, set off at a good speed. He stood in the road for a few minutes as if meditating; but, when she looked back at the corner, she saw that he had mounted too, and was coming down the road after her. There might be no harm in that; but it did not add to her happiness; and the watch and chain, which had been Aunt Anne's last gift to her, seemed to weigh heavily upon her neck.

There was no thought now of turning; but, though she pedalled her hardest, she could not see any signs of a highroad in front of her, and was sure she must have taken the wrong lane. Indeed, to her dismay, when she got a little farther down the road, it narrowed still more and ran through a wood. She was quite sure now that the man was chasing her, and wondered if she would ever get to Dol at all. It seemed to be her fate to be chased by something on her excursions, and she was not quite sure whether she preferred escaping on her own feet or a bicycle.

At first he did not gain upon her much, and, if she had had her own machine, and had been in good training, perhaps she might have outdistanced him; but there did not appear to be much chance of that at present. She was thankful to see a sharp descent in front of her, and let herself go at a break-neck speed; but, unfortunately, there was an equally steep hill to climb on the other side, and she would have to get off and walk.

She was just making up her mind to turn round and brave it out, and keep her watch—if possible—when she saw something on the grass by the roadside, a little ahead of her, that made her heart leap with relief and pleasure—namely, a puff of smoke, and a figure clad in a brown tweed suit. She was sure, even after a mere hurried glance, that the owner of the suit must be English, for it bore the stamp of an English tailor, and the breeze bore her unmistakable whiffs of "Harris."

She did not wait a moment, but leaped from her bicycle and sank down panting on the grass near, alarming the stranger—who had been nearly asleep—considerably. He jerked himself into a sitting position, and burned himself with his cigarette.

"Who the dickens——" he began; then hastily took off his cap and begged the girl's pardon, to which she could not reply for breathlessness. But he seemed to understand what was needed at once, for, after a swift glance from her to the man who was close at hand now, he said in loud, cheerful tones—

"Ah! Here you are at last. I am glad you caught me up. We'll just have a little rest, then go calmly on our way. You should not ride so quickly on a hot day."