The lane twisted incessantly, apparently to avoid the larger trees.
The surface was the virgin soil of the forest only, but the ruts
had been filled roughly with broken stones.

Merriman strode on, and suddenly, as he rounded one of the bends,
he got the surprise of his life.

Coming to meet him along the lane was a girl. This in itself was
perhaps not remarkable, but this girl seemed so out of place amid
such surroundings, or even in such a district, that Merriman was
quite taken aback.

She was of medium height, slender and graceful as a lily, and
looked about three-and-twenty. She was a study in brown. On her
head was a brown tam, a rich, warm brown, like the brown of autumn
bracken on the moor. She wore a brown jumper, brown skirt, brown
stockings and little brown brogued shoes. As she came closer,
Merriman saw that her eyes, friendly, honest eyes, were a shade of
golden brown, and that a hint of gold also gleamed in the brown of
her hair. She was pretty, not classically beautiful, but very
charming and attractive-looking. She walked with the free, easy
movement of one accustomed to an out-of-door life.

As they drew abreast Merriman pulled off his cap.

"Pardon, mademoiselle," he said in his somewhat halting French, "but
can you tell me if I could get some petrol close by?" and in a few
words he explained his predicament.

She looked him over with a sharp, scrutinizing glance. Apparently