“We shall be roughing it for a while, Bennett. You do not mind after such luxury at the Duke’s house?”
“Not 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.
‘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 the
