the front with the chauffeur. He didn’t seem to like the idea of this and yelled a lot, but it became clear that braver men than he had quailed before the force of Lady M’s determination. Chantal and Queenie tried to squeeze into the other front seat, but there simply wasn’t room. In spite of the spacious interior of the motorcar, there was only one seat and we three women fit rather snugly. In the end Chantal was given the front seat and poor Queenie had to sit on the floor with her back to the driver and the train cases and hatboxes piled beside her. The rest of the baggage was eventually loaded with some difficulty into the boot of the motorcar. It wouldn’t close, of course, and string had to be found to tie it together. We looked anything but regal—more like a traveling circus—as we finally set off from the station.
It was now almost dark but from what I could see we were driving through a small medieval city with narrow cobbled streets, picturesque fountains and tall gabled houses. Lights shone out and the streets were almost deserted. Those few pedestrians we passed were bundled into shapeless forms against the cold. As we left the town behind, snow started to fall in earnest, blanketing the ground around us with a carpet of white. The driver mumbled something in whatever language he spoke, presumably Romanian. For a while we drove in silence. Then the road entered a dark pine forest and started to climb.
“I don’t like the look of this at all,” Miss Deer-Harte said. “What did I tell you about brigands and wolves?”
“Wolves?” Queenie wailed. “Don’t tell me we’re going to be eaten by wolves!”
The driver perked up at a word he understood. He turned to us, revealing a mouth of yellow pointed teeth. “Ja—wolffs,” he said, and gave a sinister laugh.
Up and up we drove, the road twisting back and forth around hairpin bends with glimpses of a sickening drop on one side. Snow was falling so fast now that it was hard to see what was road and what might have been a ditch beside it. The driver sat up very straight, peering ahead through the windshield into murky darkness. There was not a light to be seen, only dark forest and rocky cliffs.
“If I had any idea it was this far, I would have arranged for a night in a hotel before we began the trip.” For the first time Lady Middlesex’s voice sounded tense and strained. “I do hope the man knows what he’s doing. The weather is really awfully bad.”
I was beginning to feel queasy from being in the middle and flung from side to side around those bends. Miss Deer-Harte’s bony elbow dug into my side. Queenie tried to brace herself in a corner but had a handkerchief to her mouth.
“You are to tell us if you wish to vomit,” Lady Middlesex said. “I shall make him stop for you. But you are to contain yourself until you can get out of the vehicle, is that clear?”
Queenie managed a watery smile.
“I’m sure it’s not far now,” Lady Middlesex said cheerfully. She leaned forward. “Driver, is it far now? Est it beau-coup loin?” she repeated in atrocious French.
He didn’t answer. At last we came to the top of the pass. A small inn was beside the road and lights shone out from it. The driver stopped and went around to open the bonnet, presumably to let the motor cool down. Then he disappeared inside the inn, leaving us in the freezing car.
“What’s that?” Miss Deer-Harte whispered, pointing into the darkness on the other side of the road. “Look, among the trees. It’s a wolf.”
“Only a large dog, I’m sure,” Lady Middlesex said.
I said nothing. It looked like a wolf to me. But at that moment the inn door opened and several figures emerged.
“Brigands,” Miss Deer-Harte whispered. “We’ll all have our throats slit.”
“Ordinary peasants,” Lady Middlesex sniffed. “See, they even have children with them.”
If they were peasants they certainly looked like a murderous bunch, the men with big black drooping mustaches, the women large and muscular. They poured out of the inn, a remarkably large number of them, peering into the motorcar with suspicious faces. One woman crossed herself and another held up crossed fingers, as if warding off evil. A third snatched a child who was venturing too close to us and held it protectively wrapped in her arms.
“What on earth is