"It will take us only a moment." Sir George stepped in.

The Vicomte, in whose fingers the wheel seemed scarcely to rest, so light and apparently careless was his touch, touched a lever by his side, released the clutch, and swung the great car round the corner at a speed which made Duncombe grasp the sides.

At a pace which seemed to him most ridiculous, they dashed into the Rue de Rivoli, and with another sharp turn pulled up before Maxim's.

The Vicomte rose with a yawn as though he had just awoke from a refreshing dream.

His servant slipped off his fur coat, and he descended to the pavement faultlessly dressed and quite unruffled.