called Mr. Beebe. “We want your assistance. Will you interpret for us?”

“George!” cried Mr. Emerson. “Ask your driver which way George went. The boy may lose his way. He may be killed.”

“Go, Mr. Eager,” said Miss Bartlett. don't ask our driver; our driver is no help. Go and support poor Mr. Beebe — , he is nearly demented.”

“He may be killed!” cried the old man. “He may be killed!”

“Typical behaviour,” said the chaplain, as he quitted the carriage. “In the presence of reality that kind of person invariably breaks down.”

“What does he know?” whispered Lucy as soon as they were alone.