I12 THE CRUISE OF THE ROVER CARAVAN

On the previous evening it had been arranged that, as
the trial trip was in every way so satisfactory, there
would be no occasion to return to Pine Lodge. It would
be a loss of time, and good-byes had already been said.

So Carleton wrote to his mother telling her to
post her letter to Brighton Poste Restante, as they
meant to hug the shore as far as that town, and then
bear up north and away, even to Scotland itself if
they should meet with nothing in the shape of acci-
dent or mishap to delay them.

This did really feel to Carleton like running away
from home, without a final good-bye, but on the whole
it was considered best.

To-day, then, after a delightful drive through a
rolling country, the expedition finally drew up for the
mid-day halt, in a quiet street in Southampton!
Quiet though it was, however, a mob soon gathered
around, but they were respectable citizens. Then
two burly policemen strutted up and leaned upon
their sticks for a short time, to view the procession.
They will not permit ordinary gipsy folk to obstruct
a thoroughfare—not that there was much obstruc-
tion in this case—but the “ Rover” looked a caravan
quite out of the common, and Major Buffles’s appear-
ance, arrayed in his buttons and boots, was so
thoroughly imposing and aristocratic, that they said
never a word.

Meanwhile, as usual, Polly’s cage was hung in front
of the coupé, and Lady Bute stood up and proceeded
to address a few words of caution to all and sundry.