you're not afraid I shall run you into a ditch?" I asked, laughing. "I
don't believe, after all, it can be any worse than steering a toboggan
down a good run, or driving a four-in-hand with one's eyes shut, as I
did once for a wager on a road I knew as I knew my own hat."

"Perhaps it isn't exactly _worse_," said Molly, "still--I think you'll
find it _different_."

I did.

Meanwhile, however, Winston was cheering me on. "You'll find steering
the simplest thing in the world, really," he assured me. "There's no
car so sensitive as this. The faster you go, the easier it is----"

"But, perhaps he'd better not try to prove _that_, just at first!"
cried Molly, with an affected little gasp.

"No, no; certainly he won't, my child. He won't go beyond a walk until
he's sure of himself and the car. You needn't be frightened. I know my
man, or I shouldn't trust him with you and your Mercédès. Now, then,
Monty, are you ready?"

I had never before sufficiently realised the solemnity of that word
"now." It sounded in my ears like a knell, but I swallowed hard, and
echoed it. To do myself justice, though, I don't think I was afraid. I
was only in a funk that I should do something stupid, and be disgraced
forever in the eyes of Molly Winston. However, I reflected, it
couldn't be so very bad. Molly herself, and even Jack, had to learn.
Winston had explained to me several times the purpose of all the
different levers, and, at least, I shouldn't touch the brake handle