Landfall [antikvár]

CHAPTER ONEThe car, a chilly little open sports two-seater, drew away from the dim bulk of the dance hall. It accelerated with a crescendo of noise quite disproportionate to its performance and made off down the sea front, its one masked headlamp showing a feeble glimmer in the utter darkness. Presently it took a turning through the park towards the town. The steady rumble of the engine became intermittent; then there was a crashing report and a sheet of yellow flame from the exhaust pipe. It drew up to a standstill imderneath the trees.In the cramped seat the driver was conscious of the girl's shoidder pressed against his own; only his heavy coat prevented him from feeling the warmth of her thigh. He turned to her. "I don't know what's the matter with it." he said. "It won't go any more."She said: "Oh yes, it will. Start it up again."He said: "I'll try if you like. But I don't think it'll go. It does this sometimes.""Go on and start it."He pushed the starter. The lights, already dim, went down to a dull red glow and the worn engine turned feebly. "It won't go," he said, and there was a hint of laughter in his voice. "It's the rain or something."She stirred beside him. "I can get a bus from the corner."He said: "Don't go. There's a horse coming in a minute.""What horse?""The horse that's coming to tow us home. It won't be long now. You can give it a lump of sugar, but you must hold your hand flat. Otherwise you lose a finger."There was a light rain falling. In the darkness beneath