“Herrick!” she commanded sharply, leaning forward.  “What’s the matter with you?  Obey me, do you hear?  Not so fast!”

A whiff of alcoholic breath suddenly told her the truth.  For a second she sat there, as though petrified, with fear now for the first time clutching at her heart.

“Stop at once!” she cried, gripping the man by the collar of his livery.  “You—­you’re drunk, Herrick!  I—­I’ll have you discharged, at once, when we get home.  Stop, do you hear me?  You’re not fit to drive.  I’ll take the wheel myself!”

But Herrick, hopelessly under the influence of the poison, which had now produced its full effect, paid no heed.

“Y’—­can’t dri’ thish car!” he muttered, in maudlin accents.  “Too big—­too heavy for—­hc!—­woman!  I—­I dri’ it all right, drunk or sober!  Good chauffeur—­good car—­I know thish car!  You won’t fire me—­hc!—­for takin’ drink or two, huh?  I drive you all ri’—­drive you to New York or to—­hc!—­Hell!  Same thing, no difference, ha! ha!—­I—­”

A sudden blaze of rage crimsoned the girl’s face.  In all her life she never had been thus spoken to.  For a second she clenched her fist, as though to strike down this sodden brute there in the seat before her—­a feat she would have been quite capable of.  But second thought convinced her of the peril of such an act.  Ahead of them a long down-grade stretched away, away, to a turn half-hidden under the arching greenery.  As the car struck this slope, it leaped into ever greater speed; and now, under the erratic guidance of the lolling wretch at the wheel, it began to sway in long, unsteady curves, first toward one ditch, then the other.

Another woman would have screamed; might even have tried to jump out.  But Kate was not of the hysteric sort.  More practical, she.

“I’ve got to climb over into the front seat,” she realized in a flash, “and shut off the current—­cut the power off—­stop the car!”

On the instant, she acted.  But as she arose in the tonneau, Herrick, sensing her purpose, turned toward her in the sudden rage of complete intoxication.

“Naw—­naw y’ don’t!” he shouted, his face perfectly purple with fury and drink.  “No woman—­he!—­runs this old boat while I’m aboard, see?  Go on, fire me! I don’t give—­damn!  But you don’t run—­car!  Sit down! I run car—­New York or Hell—­no matter which! I—­”

Hurtling down the slope like a runaway comet, now wholly out of control, the powerful gray car leaped madly at the turn.

Catherine, her heart sick at last with terror, caught a second’s glimpse of forest, on one hand; of a stone wall with tree-tops on some steep abyss below, just grazing it, on the other.  Through these trees she saw a momentary flash of water, far beneath.

Then the leaping front wheels struck a cluster of loose pebbles, at the bend.

Wrenched from the drunkard’s grip, the steering wheel jerked sharply round.