The puncture I did not mind, The car had detachable wheels, and
one was all ready, waiting to be used. But when I found that I
had no jack...Better men than I would have sworn. The
imperturbable Jonah would have stamped about the road. As for
Berry, with no one there to suffer his satire, suppressed enmity
would have brought about a collapse. He would probably have lost
his memory.

There was nothing for it, but to drive slowly forward on the flat
tire. When I came to a village I could rouse an innkeeper, and
if the place did not boast a jack, at least sturdy peasants
should raise the car with a stout pole. Accordingly, I had gone
on.

For the first five miles I had not lighted on so much as a barn.
Then suddenly I had swung round a bend of the road to see a great
white mansion right ahead of me. The house stood solitary by the
roadside, dark woods rising steep behind. No light came from its
windows. Turreted, white-walled, dark-roofed in the moonlight,
it might have been the outpost of some fairy town. The building
stood upon the left-hand side of the way, and, as I drew slowly
alongside, wondering if I dared knock upon its gates for
assistance, I found that house and road curled to the left
together. Round the bend I had crept, close to the white facade.
As I turned, I saw a light above me, shining out over a low
balcony of stone. I had stopped the car and the engine, and
stepped on tiptoe to the other side of the road. From there I
could see the ceiling of a tall, first-floor room, whose wide,
open windows led on to the balcony. I saw no figure, no shadow.