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rooms for us, my Lord, as well as alerting them that we shall be bringing a motor vehicle and will not need stabling for the night.”
    â€œExcellent, Bennett. It is exhilarating travelling at such speed, is it not?”
    â€œOh, I have become used to it, my Lord. The old Duke used to like me to put my foot down on the accelerator to see what we could get out of the old girl. He used to cheer and wave his hat whenever we passed carriages.”
    The Viscount laughed.
    â€œYou must drive carefully – the roads will soon be rougher than in London and we do not want an accident. There is so much to go wrong on these things!”
    â€œAnd a lot can ail a horse too, my Lord.”
    The day was warm and fine and the Viscount soon took off his goggles against the wind and fully enjoyed the scenery. The scattered villages of Middlesex soon gave way to the rolling hills of Berkshire.
    The scenery began to flatten as they approached Salisbury Plain in the late afternoon. The Viscount could see for miles around and ordered a stop at Stonehenge so that he could see the stones at close range.
    He thought of Thomas Hardy’s book, Tess of the d’Ubervilles where the heroine had met her doom at the stone circle and, as he stood there with the wind whistling around his ears, he turned to face the West and wondered what lay in store for him.
    It suddenly occurred to him that he would not know a soul apart from the servants and that any newcomer to the town would be viewed with suspicion.
    â€˜I shall do my best to be as popular as Grandpapa would have wished, that is all I can do,’ he murmured, as he climbed back into the Daimler.
    *
    They arrived at the Angel Inn around seven o’clock.
    While Bennett unloaded his luggage, the Viscount strolled around the stables.
    He was pleased to notice that his was the only motor vehicle on the premises and took great pride in the fact that their arrival had caused something of a stir.
    He spent a pleasant evening at the inn. Their fare was hearty, if simple, and the portions were large. He slept well in a feather four-poster bed and arose the next morning prepared for an early start.
    Bennett had the motor car ready by half-past eight and they were on the road well before nine.
    â€œI wonder if the staff have arrived in Barnstaple yet?” shouted the Viscount above the roar of the engine. “I would have thought so, my Lord,” replied Bennett. “Rum old business, there being no station at Bideford, though.”
    â€œYes,” grimaced the Viscount as a sheep, startled by the sound of the horn, leapt out of their way. “We cannot expect any of the comforts we enjoyed in London. They do not even have gas lights!”
    â€œGoodness!” cried Bennett. “And I thought I had done with the days of candles.”
    â€œWe shall be roughing it for a while, Bennett. You do not mind after such luxury at the Duke’s house?”
    â€œNot at all, my Lord. I was a stable hand when I was a young fellow and was used to sleeping in a hay loft above the horses.”
    The road through the top of Exmoor was rough and no more than a track for carts. The steep hills they encountered on the road to Barnstaple taxed the Daimler to its limits and the Viscount wondered how carts negotiated them.
    It was getting dark by the time they reached flatter ground and a milestone on a crossroads that told them Bideford was only four miles away.
    â€˜I shall be glad of a respite from this boneshaker,’ thought the Viscount, as the road followed alongside the river Torridge. Bennett had to stop once and ask a passing shepherd with his dog where they might find Torr House.
    The man replied with a rich Devon burr that Bennett found quite difficult to follow.
    â€œLawks, they talk strange in these parts!” he exclaimed, shaking his head as the man wandered off.
    But he must have understood at least part of what the shepherd had told him as the road from