George instantly threw open the throttle, and the gyro-car raced up the hill at a speed of forty miles. The motor was little more than fifty yards in the rear when it reached the foot of the hill. Then it lost ground, but as soon as it arrived at the crest it picked up its speed again. It was a tremendous race. For many miles the road switchbacked among the hills. Now the motor would gain, now the gyro-car. Wherever he could, George ran along the fairly level foot-track by the roadside, thus escaping the loose shingles of the ill-kept highway. Here the motor-car could not follow it. Fortunately there was little traffic. At one point he swerved suddenly to avoid a man driving a diminutive donkey. Warned by the hooter, the man snatched up the donkey, and carried it to the side out of harm’s way. Dense volumes of dust rose behind the gyro-car, flying full in the faces of the pursuers; but ever and anon the hum of their car could be heard, and the Bucklands could not but admire the reckless courage of the Count and his party in maintaining so high a speed on so rough a road.
Through Potenza both vehicles rushed like whirlwinds, separated by only a few hundred yards. The speed-limit was set utterly at defiance. Then the switchbacking began again, the dips occurring at even shorter intervals. The road would drop several hundred feet within half-a-mile; in ten miles there were as many as sixteen steep ups and downs. Sometimes the green motor was left out of both sight and hearing, and then George would hope that it had broken down. But it always reappeared whenever an abrupt curve forced him to slacken speed for fear of skidding, even though in his excitement he took the corners at a pace that he would not have dreamed of risking a few hours earlier. The gyro-car had always this advantage in the race: that it was capable of higher speed than the motor when pressed. It was only a question of taking risks, and neither Maurice nor George was unready to do this.
The sun was now beating down fiercely on the travellers, and gilding the dust-cloud that almost continuously hid the pursuers from view. But the heat was tempered by the rush of air as they whirled through it, and at these altitudes the air itself was cool. As the gyro-car spun along, the few pedestrians whom it met or overtook turned to gaze at it in amazement. Mile after mile was covered, until at Ginosa nearly three-quarters of the distance between Naples and Brindisi had been completed.
“We shall do it!” cried George jubilantly, as they ran down the hill a few miles farther on.
Hardly had he spoken when he was suddenly conscious that the power had given out. The car ran on for some distance by its own momentum, but it was only too clear that the engine had ceased to work. With a smothered exclamation George brought the car to a standstill, let down the supports, and sprang out. Maurice listened anxiously; there was no sound from behind. Had the green car broken down too?
Chapter VII
AN ACT OF WAR
For a brief, breathless moment George almost lost his head. Then, pulling himself together, he said:
“We can’t go on, Maurice. We must get the car out of the road before those fellows come up.”
There was nobody in sight of whom to ask assistance. But a little way down the road Maurice spied a narrow by-lane.