Far away across the desert a moving speck showed, high up in the blue air. It grew bigger and bigger, plainly coming towards the camp. It was as big as a moth now, now as big as a teacup, now as big as an eagle, and——
'But it's got four legs,' said Lucy.
'Yes,' said the parrot; 'it would have, you know. It is the Hippogriff.'
It was indeed that magnificent wonder. Flying through the air with long sweeps of his great white wings, the Hippogriff drew nearer and nearer, bearing on his back—what?
'It's the Pretenderette,' cried Lucy, and at the same moment Philip said, 'It's that nasty motor thing.'
It was. The Hippogriff dropped from the sky to the desert below as softly as a butterfly alighting on a flower, and stood there in all his gracious whiteness. And on his back was the veiled motor lady.
'So glad I've caught you up,' she said in that hateful voice of hers; 'now we can go on together.'
'I don't see what you wanted to come at all for,' said Philip downrightly.
'Oh, don't you?' she said, sitting up there on the Hippogriff with her horrid motor veil fluttering in the breeze from the now hidden sea. 'Why, of course, I have a right to be present at all experiments. There ought to be some responsible grown-up person to see that you really do what you're sure to say you've done.'
'Do you mean that we're liars?' Philip asked hotly.