He applied both brakes, but the metal-shod tyres slithered on the greasy tramlines. The next instant the impact occurred.
It was the cycle that bore the brunt of the collision. Its rider, with considerable dexterity, had dismounted, and leaping into safety had left his machine to meet destruction. The dray, pulling up, filled almost the whole of the archway, with its bonnet within a couple of inches of the tail of the car.
Within a few seconds a crowd had collected. The traffic was held up while the policeman, note-book in hand, was taking particulars of the accident.
"Take this," whispered the baronet, pushing a small blue-covered case into Villiers' hand. "It's my driving licence."
"Have you a licence, sir?" inquired the policeman
"I have," replied Villiers truthfully. "Here it is."
The guardian of the law was visibly impressed by the name.
"Very good, sir," he said saluting. "Merely a matter of form. I don't think you'll hear anything further about the accident. The cyclist was entirely in the wrong."
"Punctual to the minute," remarked Sir Hugh, as the car drew up in front of Richborough Chambers. "Hallo! Where's that attaché-case?"
It had vanished. Thinking perhaps that the sudden application of the brakes had jerked it under the seat, the baronet made a comprehensive search, but without result.