They had not gone a quarter of a mile further when something went wrong with the brake. They flew down a long hill, holding on for dear life, nothing but the grand way in which the mate managed this time to steer a straight course down the middle of the road saving them from destruction. Nevertheless, mounting the last slope was such hard labour that Mugford had to turn to and "work his passage," by every now and again taking a spell at the treadles.
"Look here!" said Diggory at length: "don't you think we've gone far enough? we shan't be back in time for tea."
"Oh, I forgot," answered the captain. "We'll see. Stand by your anchor! Let go-o-o!"
The "coffee-mill" stopped, and Jack Vance pulled out his watch.
"By me it's half-past twelve, and I'm four hours slow: twelve to one, one to two, two to three, three to four—half-past four. Yes, it's time we turned round. Now, then, 'bout ship!"
The tricycle clanked and rattled away merrily enough on the return journey until it came to the long hill, which this time had to be climbed instead of descended.
"Don't let's get off," said Jack; "we ought to rush her up this if we set our minds to it."
With a great deal of panting and struggling they succeeded in getting about half-way; then suddenly there was a crack, and the machine, instead of going forward, began to run back. Faster and faster it went, the pedals remaining motionless under their feet.
"The chain's gone," gasped the captain. "There's a cart behind! Quick, run her aground!"
Of course the mate turned the handle the wrong way. On one side of the road was an ordinary hedge, while on the other lay a deep ditch, and into this a moment later the "coffee-mill" disappeared with every soul on board!