 CHAPTER XVI Pop me down!" said Billy. You'd get hurt if I did, travelling at this pace. What are you going to do? Drive about till you promise to marry me. You'll have to drive a long time." Righto! said Sam. The car took a corner and purred down a lane. Billy reached out a hand and grabbed at the steering wheel. Of course, if you want to smash up in a ditch, said Sam, writing the car with a wrench. You're a brute! said Billy. Okay, found stuff, explained Sam. I ought to have tried this before. I don't know what you expect to gain by this. That's all right, said Sam. I know what I'm about. I'm glad to hear it. I thought you would be. I'm not going to talk to you. All right, lean back and doze off. We have the whole night before us. What do you mean? cried Billy, sitting up with a jerk. Have you ever been to Scotland? What do you mean? I thought we might push up there. I thought we might push up there. We've got to go somewhere. And, oddly enough, I've never been to Scotland. Billy regarded him blankly. Are you crazy? I'm crazy about you. If you knew what I've gone through tonight for your sake, you'd be more sympathetic. I love you, said Sam, swerving to avoid a rabbit. And what's more, you know it. I don't care. You will, said Sam confidently. Have a North Wales. I've heard people speak well of North Wales. Shall we head for North Wales? I'm engaged to Breem Mortimer. Oh, no, that's all off. Sam assured her. It's not. Right off, said Sam firmly. You could never bring yourself to marry a man who dashed away like that and deserted you in your hour of need. Why, for all he knew, I might have tried to murder you. And he ran away. No, no. We'll eliminate Breem Mortimer once and for all. He won't do. This was so exactly what Billy was feeling herself, that she could not bring herself to dispute it. Anyway, I hate you, she said, doing the conversation another turn. Why, in the name of goodness, why? How dare you make a fool of me in your father's office that morning? It was a sudden inspiration. I had to do something to make you think well of me, and I thought that it might meet the case if I saved you from a lunatic with a pistol. Wasn't my fault you found out? I shall never forgive you. Why not Cornwall, said Sam? The Riviera of England. Let's go to Cornwall. I beg your pardon, what were you saying? I said I should never forgive you, and I won't. Well, I hope you're fond of motoring, said Sam, because we're going on till you do. Very well. Go on, then. I intend to. Of course, it's all right now while it's dark. But have you considered what it's going to happen when the sun gets up? We shall have a sort of triumphal procession. How the small boys will laugh when they see a man and a helmet go by in a car. I shouldn't notice them myself, because it's a little difficult to notice anything from inside this thing. But I'm afraid it will be rather unpleasant for you. I know what we'll do. We'll go to London and drive up and down Piccadilly. That will be fun. There was a long silence. Is my helmet on straight? said Sam. Billy made no reply. She was looking before her down the hedge-bordered road. Always a girl of sudden impulse. She had just made a curious discovery. To wit that she was enjoying herself. There was something so novel and exhilarating about this midnight ride, that imperceptibly her dismay and resentment had ebbed away. She found herself struggling with a desire to laugh. Lock-in-va, said Sam, suddenly. That's the name of the chap I've been trying to think of. Did you ever read about Lock-in-va? Young Lock-in-va, the poet calls him rather familiarly. He did just what I'm doing now, and everybody thought very highly of him. I suppose in those days a helmet was just an ordinary part of what the well-dressed man should wear. Odd how fashions change. Till now, Dignity and Roth had combined to keep Billy from making any inquiries into a matter which had excited in her a quite painful curiosity. In her new mood she resisted the impulse no longer. Why are you wearing that thing? I told you, purely and simply, because I can't get it off. You don't suppose I'm trying to set a new style in Gent's headwear, do you? But why did you ever put it on? Well, it was this way. After I came out of the cupboard in the drawing-room. What? Didn't I tell you about that? Oh, yes. I was sitting in the cupboard in the drawing-room from dinner time onwards. After that I came out, and started tending about Aunt Adeline's china. So I thought I'd better switch the light on. Unfortunately, I switched on some sort of musical instrument instead. And then somebody started shooting. So, all with one thing and another, I thought it would be best to hide somewhere. I hid in one of the suits of armour in the hall. Were you inside there all the time we were- Yes, I mean to say, that was funny about Breen, wasn't it? Getting under the bed, I mean. Don't let's talk about Breen. That's the right spirit. I'd like to see it. All right, we won't. Let's get back to the main issue. Will you marry me? Why did you come to the house at all? To see you. To see me at that time of the night? Well, perhaps not actually to see you. Sam was a little perplexed for a moment. Something told him that it would be injudicious to reveal his true motive, and thereby risk disturbing the harmony, which he felt had begun to exist between them. To be near you. To be in the same house with you, he went on vehemently, feeling that he'd struck the right note. You don't know the anguish I went through after I read that letter of yours? I was mad, I was. Well, to return to the point, will you marry me? Billy sat looking straight before her. The car, now on the main road, moved smoothly on. Will you marry me? Billy rested her hand on her chin, and searched the darkness with thoughtful eyes. Will you marry me? The car raced on. Will you marry me? said Sam. Will you marry me? Will you marry me? Oh, don't talk like a parrot, cried Billy. It reminds me of Bream. But will you? Yes, said Billy. Sam brought the car to a standstill with a jerk. Probably very bad for the tyres. Did you say yes? Yes. Darling! said Sam, leaning towards her. Oh, curse this helmet! Why? Well, I rather wanted to kiss you, and it hampers me. Let me try and get it off, then down. Ouch! It's coming. There! How helpless men are! We need a woman's tender care, said Sam, depositing the helmet on the floor of the car, and rubbing his smarting ears. Billy! Sam! You angel! Your brother, darling, after all, said Billy. But you want keeping in order? she added severely. You will do that when we're married. When we're married, he repeated luxuriously, how splendid it sounds. The only trouble is, said Billy, father won't hear of it. No, he won't. Not till it's all over, said Sam. He started the car again. What are you going to do, said Billy? Where are you going? To London, said Sam. It may be news to you, but the old lawyer like myself knows that by going to Doctor's Commons, or the Court of Arches, or somewhere, or by routing the Archbishop of Canterbury out of bed, or something, you can get a special licence and be married almost before you know where you are. My scheme, roughly, is to dig this special licence out of whoever keeps such things, have a bit of breakfast, and then get married at our leisure before lunch at the registrars. Oh, not a registrars, said Billy. No? I should hate a registrars. Very well, angel, just as you say, we'll go to a church. There are millions of churches in London. I've seen them all over the place. Immused for a moment. Yes, you're quite right. He said, a church is the thing. It'll please Webster. Webster? Yes, he's rather keen on the church bells, never having wrung out, so blithe appealed before. And we must consider Webster's feelings. After all, he brought us together. Webster? How? Oh, I'll tell you all about that. Some other time, said Sam. Just for the moment, I want to sit quite still and think. Are you comfortable? Fine, then off we go. The birds and the trees fringing the road, stirred and twitted grumpily as the noise of the engine disturbed their slumbers. But if they had known it, they were in luck. At any rate, the worst had not befallen them. For Sam was too happy to sing. The End End of Three Men that Are Made by Pidgey Woodhouse Read by Tim Bulkley of BigBible.org