She floundered blindly into a pool of water before she reached it, and was doubly startled by Monck lifting her bodily, without apology, out of the mire, and placing her on the seat.

The beat of the rain upon the hood made her wonder if they could make any headway under it.

And then, while she was still wondering, the engine began to throb like a living thing, and she was aware of Monck squeezing past her to his seat at the wheel.
He did not speak, but he wrapped the rug firmly about her, and almost before she had time to thank him, they were in motion.
That night-ride was one of the wildest experiences that she had ever known.

Monck went like the wind.

The road wound through the jungle, and in many places was little more than a rough track.