"May I have the honour?" asked Cunningham, hat in hand, with a low bow.
Lady Eva inclined coldly, and took off her wraps. The man was certainly polite. He led her as though she were a princess, and any misgivings were soon at rest.
It was a quaint scene. It is doubtful if Betelgeuse had ever looked down upon a quainter. The firs formed a sombre background. The moon illuminated the green sward in front, and on it a highwayman and a lady motorist stepped to a catching dance tune, emanating from a gramophone on a Panhard motor, controlled by a peer of the realm. The light of an acetylene lamp shone like a gigantic foot-light illuminating the front of the green stage.
The floor was not an ideal one, though cattle had cropped it close and the winds had swept it dry, but the pair were accomplished dancers. Thrice had they paced the length of the floor. Now they turned again, hand in hand, with heads thrown back, and uplifted feet. There was the unmistakable sound of an approaching car. Cunningham must have heard it, but recklessly he continued the dance.
"THERE WAS THE UNMISTAKABLE SOUND OF AN APPROACHING CAR."
With a toot it hove into sight, and Lord Tadcaster turned his own horn into a prolonged howl, signifying unimaginable trouble. This, and the unusual scene at the side, brought up the oncoming car to a smart halt. They backed abreast of the Panhard.
"Robbery! Help!" cried the Earl.
The two occupants of the new car hardly heard him. They were lost in astonishment. As the dancers reached the verge of the road in the full flare of the light, they were greeted with a round of applause. With a snap Lord Tadcaster turned off the gramophone.