She thought he matched his surroundings as he disappeared at a trot round the corner of the church. Then from behind her came the hoot of a motor-horn, and she glanced back to see a closed car that glittered at every angle swoop through the open gates and swerve round to the churchyard.

Dunstan's, played a more elaborate instrument than a Jew's-harp or a mouth organ. The side-drummer, who played the side-drum, bass drum, cymbals, Chinese block, motor-horn, triangle, and clappers was a boy who had lost both eyes. I have vivid recollections of the celebration at St.

The distant toot of a motor-horn came faintly from some point far to the south of him. On such a night, at such a place, all traffic must be from south to north when the current of London week-enders sweeps back from the watering-place to the capital from pleasure to duty. The man sat straight and listened intently. Yes, there it was again, and certainly to the south of him.

It shut him in so that he could see nothing ahead, but there was a strong fence between him and the river, and he went on, lost in thought, until the mist was suddenly illuminated and a bright light flashed along the road. The hoot of a motor-horn broke out behind him, and, rudely startled, he sprang aside.

They kept up that kind of conversation for quite a long time, while we listened eagerly for the sound of the motor-horn. And no motor-horn came; instead, after endlessly tedious minutes, John returned bearing himself like a portent of disaster. The confounded fellow whispered again. "What, not anywhere?" Jervaise asked irritably. "Sure he hasn't gone to bed?"

He broke off suddenly, and the next instant the two men started to their feet as the hoot of a motor-horn sounded loudly outside the house. "God, Herrick here's Toni." Owen dashed out of the room followed by Herrick, and the two reached the front door at the same moment.

But there was Nat, the second in age, whose motor-horn had driven her and Nick out to the hill-side on their fatal day at the Fulmers' and there were the twins, Jack and Peggy, of whom she had kept memories almost equally disquieting.

The noise of the passing train had scarcely died away, when from just behind them the hideous shriek of Mac Alarney's motor-horn rose blastingly three times upon the night air, the last fainter than the others, as if the pursuing car had dropped back. "He's beaten! He couldn't keep up the pace, much less better it," Blaine remarked.

Then "toot-toot" went the motor-horn as the gentleman in gray closed the door upon himself and his companion, and the vehicle, darting forward, sped down the Embankment in the exact direction whence the man himself had originally come, and, passing directly through that belated portion of the hurrying crowd to whom the end of the adventure was not yet known, flew on and vanished.

On the terrace, holding a pair of field-glasses in her hand and gazing intently out to sea, was Fedora. At the sound of the motor-horn she turned quickly. She looked at the visitor in surprise. A shade of pink was in her face. Lane brought the car to a standstill, jumped out and climbed the steps of the terrace. "What has brought you here?" she asked, in surprise.