"Pull over—now!"
The Rolls seemed to tilt almost onto two wheels as it hurtled around the corner on the outside. The back of an Army lorry swelled instantly from nowhere to fill the gap from hedge to hedge. Stringer shrieked and somehow shot the Rolls into the slit on the right. Branches snapped and whipped along the coachwork.
"Stay on this side!"
Straight ahead! A cyclist! Smedley yelled, “Look out!” Stringer screamed at the top of his lungs. There was a momentary image of an impending disaster, a loud impact of metal against metal, and Edward Exeter was sitting alongside Mr. Stringer in the front. Then another! More noise ... something like a wheel whistled past the window ... and Alice Prescott was on the back seat between Smedley and Miss Pimm. “Stay on this side!” Miss Pimm repeated. A bright red roadster rushed straight at the windscreen, veered at the last second, missed the lorry by inches, and plunged headlong into the woods with a noise like an artillery barrage at close range. Smedley caught a glimpse of its wheels and chassis as it reared vertically, plastering itself against a tree. Then the Rolls was around the bend and humming up a long, straight hill on a peaceful, sunny afternoon.
"I think that went well, don't you?” Miss Pimm said, in the tones of one who had just pulled off a daring finesse in a game of auction bridge. “You may pull over to the left now, Mr. Stringer, and reduce speed."
Alice opened her eyes. Exeter said something in a harsh foreign tongue and twisted around to look at her. They were both brightly flushed and apparently out of breath. He studied Alice, then Smedley, and finally Miss Pimm.
"Is it legal to enter a car at that speed?” Smedley inquired weakly. His heart was doing a thousand revs. If he had been skeptical of magic before, he must certainly believe now. Those two had been outside, on bicycles, and boring straight into the lorry like howitzers and here they were quietly sitting...
"Mr. Stringer, why are you stopping?” Miss Pimm demanded sharply.
"I'm a doctor! There has been an accident. And, by heaven, the police are going to ask some—"
"Drive on! We need not worry about the law. Unfortunately, nobody was injured. The soldiers will discover that the other car had no driver, whatever they may have thought they saw before the crash. They will not be able to explain the bicycle debris either, but that is not our concern. Pray continue.” The class will now hand in its dictation.
"I'm alive?” Alice whispered.
"Only just!” Miss Pimm said. “I apologize for my tardy arrival and the unruly procedure."
Exeter squirmed around to kneel on the seat, leaning over the back. “I saw you at Staffles!"
"Being a guardian dragon? And now I am the deus ex machina."
His eyes gleamed with delight. “Dea, surely? And in machina, not ex?"
How could he possibly be capable of making jokes already? Alice was still paralyzed. Smedley had just discovered that he had bitten his tongue.
Miss Pimm smiled her barely visible, thin-lipped smile in appreciation. “At the moment I am going by the name of Miss Pimm."
"But when I was at Fallow, I used to address you as Jonathan Oldcastle, Esq?"
"You did indeed! Well done.” Move to the top of the class. “I don't suppose your handwriting has improved at all, has it?"
Exeter was grinning as if all this insanity were just enormous fun. “Unlikely. Colonel Creighton said you were a committee."
A faint spasm of annoyance crossed her face. “I was chairwoman."
"Was it the pillar-box? You had a spell on it?"
"No, Edward. It was your fountain pen. Turn left at the intersection, Mr. Stringer."
"You read my diary?"
"No. It was excessively uninteresting."
Exeter scowled and looked at Alice. “You all right?” He reached out a hand, but the car was too big for him to reach her.
She let out a long sigh. “Yes, I think so. I need an explanation!"
"We have time for that!” Miss Pimm adjusted her handbag on her lap. “The real credit goes to Mr. Stringer's brother, the brigadier. He recognized Edward. He guessed that whatever had happened was beyond the scope of normal military procedures and very gallantly took the risk of shipping him home, notifying—"
"Dumping the whole mess on me!” Stringer snarled, turning left at the intersection. “I will kill him! Where are we going?"
Nextdoor! Smedley thought. Olympus!
"Straight on until I say otherwise. I became aware of your cousin's return when he reached England, Miss Prescott. I placed a mark on him many years ago. It is not operative outside this world, and even here its range is limited. I investigated. I decided he was in no immediate danger. It took me a few days to make arrangements—"
"My secretary eloped with a sailor!” Stringer growled.
"Quite so. Love at first sight. The very morning I took up my new duties—"
"Excuse the interruption,” Exeter said softly. “But what do you do when you are not being my nursemaid?"
"Many things. I am with the organization you refer to as Head Office, of course. My portfolio is the British Imperial Government, excluding the Government of India. Mostly I burrow around Whitehall like an invisible mole, arranging this and that. For example, it was I who was responsible for your father being appointed D.O. at Nyagatha. That was an interesting challenge, as he was twenty-five years old, with thirty years’ experience."
She smiled her schoolmistress smile again—Smedley wondered what age she was. He realized that he could not tell. At times she seemed quite young, and at other times quite old. Dowdy and unattractive, she was yet lording it over all of them. Charismatic?
"We wanted to see if we could demonstrate the advantages of nondisruptive techniques in elevating the social systems of subject races. But I digress. As I said, that very first morning Captain Smedley came blundering in."
Exeter looked at Smedley and smiled fondly. “Bless him!"
"He turned out to be a confounded nuisance,” Miss Pimm said sharply. “But he has named his reward, and we shall see what he does with it."
Exeter's smile widened. “What did he do wrong?"
"He involved Miss Prescott. The Blighters have a mark on her. When she suddenly left London on a weekday, they were alerted. The rest, I think, you can work out. Right at the junction, Mr. Stringer."
The surgeon snorted. “You haven't asked me what reward I want!"
"I catch images of myself being burned at the stake,” Miss Pimm retorted, “so I shall not inquire about the details. Try to concentrate on the interesting weekend you are having."
"We must need petrol."
"No, we don't. We have a fair distance to go, and the Opposition will be after us. Did you get a good look at their agent?"
Exeter scowled. “If you mean that joker driving the fire engine, then I think so, yes. He had mauve eyes."
"Ah! Then it was Schneider himself. I thought as much."
"He's dead now?"
"Not at all. And as soon as a suitable vehicle comes within his reach, he will be on our heels. He has probably summoned reinforcements. You have bruised his vanity too often, Edward."
"I did warn him!” Exeter glanced at Alice. “And that is not all I should like to bruise."
"But you are a native here, so you have no chance whatsoever of doing so. You must leave him to us. Now I have to teach you all the key to the portal—"