Nevertheless, I could confess the motor car to my man with comparative
calmness. That I should fall was no doubt a disappointment to him. As
a conscientious snob and a cherisher of conservative ideals, he could
mention it to other valets without a blush. The mules however, towards
which the motor was to lead, was a different thing; and while poor
Locker excavated me from the motor coat, my mind was busily devising
means to keep the horrid secret of the mule hidden from him forever.

There was but one way to do this.

"I suppose, me lord, I'm to travel with the 'eavy luggage, and take
rooms at the end of the journey," he suggested.

The crucial moment had come. If a man can support existence without
the girl he loves, thought I, surely it must be possible for him to
live without a valet. "No, Locker," I said firmly. "I am to be Mr. and
Mrs. Winston's guest, and we--er--shall have no fixed destination. I
shall be obliged to leave you behind."

"Very good, me lord," returned Locker in a meek voice. "Very good, me
lord; _has_ you will. I do 'ope you won't suffer from dust, with no
one to keep you in proper repair, as you might say. But no doubt it
will be only for a short time."

Knowing that days, weeks, and even months might pass while I consorted
with motors and mules, far from valets and civilisation, I was
nevertheless toward enough to hint that Locker must be prepared for a
wire at any time. I had often derived a quaint pleasure from the
consciousness that he despised my bookish habits and certain