“You know it’s dangerous, Cheetah.  The horse is a shier.  That man is blind in one eye.”

“Get back into the carriage,” said Benham, whitely angry.  “I am going to drive!”

“But—!”

Just for a moment Amanda looked scared.  Then with a queer little laugh she jumped in again.

Amanda was never a coward when there was excitement afoot.  “We’ll smash!” she cried, by no means woefully.

“Get up beside me,” said Benham speaking in English to the driver but with a gesture that translated him.  Power over men radiated from Benham in this angry mood.  He took the driver’s seat.  The little driver ascended and then with a grim calmness that brooked no resistance Benham reached over, took and fastened the apron over their knees to prevent any repetition of the jumping out tactics.

The recovering landlord became voluble in the doorway.

“In Piedimulera pagero,” said Benham over his shoulder and brought the whip across the white outstanding ribs.  “Get up!” said Benham.

Amanda gripped the sides of the seat as the carriage started into motion.

He laid the whip on again with such vigour that the horse forgot altogether to shy at the urchin that had scared it before.

“Amanda,” said Benham leaning back.  “If we do happen to go over on that side, jump out.  It’s all clear and wide for you.  This side won’t matter so—­”

“Mind!” screamed Amanda and recalled him to his duties.  He was off the road and he had narrowly missed an outstanding chestnut true.

“No, you don’t,” said Benham presently, and again their career became erratic for a time as after a slight struggle he replaced the apron over the knees of the deposed driver.  It had been furtively released.  After that Benham kept an eye on it that might have been better devoted to the road.

The road went down in a series of curves and corners.  Now and then there were pacific interludes when it might have been almost any road.  Then, again, it became specifically an Italian mountain road.  Now and then only a row of all too infrequent granite stumps separated them from a sheer precipice.  Some of the corners were miraculous, and once they had a wheel in a ditch for a time, they shaved the parapet of a bridge over a gorge and they drove a cyclist into a patch of maize, they narrowly missed a goat and jumped three gullies, thrice the horse stumbled and was jerked up in time, there were sickening moments, and withal they got down to Piedimulera unbroken and unspilt.  It helped perhaps that the brake, with its handle like a barrel organ, had been screwed up before Benham took control.  And when they were fairly on the level outside the town Benham suddenly pulled up, relinquished the driving into the proper hands and came into the carriage with Amanda.

“Safe now,” he said compactly.

The driver appeared to be murmuring prayers very softly as he examined the brake.