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Authors: Ellis Peters
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one expert flick of a blond eyelash. “I could be of help, if you do not know the road. To work my passage, I shall be the guide, if you permit?”
Toddy not only permitted; he applauded. He enjoyed driving, but to him navigating was a chore. He cast a glance behind him at the empty road, and was out of the front passenger seat like a greyhound from its trap.
“It’s all yours! Here, give me your rucksack, I’ll stow it in the back with our stuff, and you take this seat.”
“But you are sure? The ladies will not mind if I ride with you? I should not like to be a burden, and some people do not approve of auto-stop.”
They assured him that this method of travelling was well-established even in England, and that they had no personal objection to it, had even used it on occasions. They installed the young man, his sandwich, and his rucksack. Christine, rendered thoughtful by the last glimpse of the gherkin as it vanished behind strong white teeth, reached into the food-box and began to compile a mid-morning snack.
“You are also students?” asked their new passenger, as they drove through Rozvadov, a nondescript street-village hardly different from those they had left on the other side of the frontier, except that, lacking the exact German tidiness, it appeared a little shaggier and dustier. “My name is Miroslav Zachar. To my friends Mirek—you will find it easier to remember. I am student of philosophy.”
They told him freely who they were, and what they were reading, and he overflowed with uninhibited questions, produced so naturally and confidently that it was impossible to find any of them offensive. They were on vacation, of course, like him? Was it their first visit to Czechoslovakia? Where were they going to stay in Prague? And where else did they intend to go? He was full of helpful suggestions. Castles, lakes, towns, he knew them all.
“You must do quite a lot of auto-stopping,” said Christine, busy with cheese and crackers. “You seem to have been everywhere.”
“I do it a lot, yes. Every holiday. Sometimes I go with friends, sometimes alone. It is better alone. For one person it is easy to get a lift.”
“And what made you come all the way out here? You
do
live in Prague?”
“I have been walking in these hills of the Bohemian Forest. Now I come back to the road, hoping to get a lift back into Prague quickly. This is a good place, foreign cars coming in here, naturally they rush straight to Prague. But I am lucky to meet some more students. That’s nice! I’m glad I time it so good. No, in Prague I have an uncle and aunt, if you will kindly take me so far I can stay with them, and afterwards stop another car,” he said serenely, “to take me on eastwards. Because of course you will be staying in Prague.”
“Perhaps only for one or two nights,” Tossa said suddenly, in that gruff boyish croak of hers, that could be so disconcerting to the unaccustomed ear.
They were on a stretch of road complicated by many climbing bends among trees, but without forks where Dominic could possibly go wrong. Miroslav Zachar abandoned his navigating for a moment to turn his head and study this dark-brown girl seriously. His amiable moon-face shone upon her approvingly.
“You will be going on so soon? But where?”
“Into Slovakia,” she said quite positively, asking no one’s agreement.
“No, really? You go to Bratislava, perhaps?”
“No,” she said, with the same authority; and if no one took her up on it now they were quite certainly committed. And no one did. “No, we want to go to the Tatras. We can make a longer stay in Prague on the way back. Is that the same way you wanted to go? You did say eastwards. Where is your home?”
“My home,” said Mirek, delighted, “is in Liptovsky Mikulás. That is very near the Tatra range. If you are really going so far, and if you would like to have a guide, believe me, I will make it easy for you, I will take care of everything. You have
Toddy not only permitted; he applauded. He enjoyed driving, but to him navigating was a chore. He cast a glance behind him at the empty road, and was out of the front passenger seat like a greyhound from its trap.
“It’s all yours! Here, give me your rucksack, I’ll stow it in the back with our stuff, and you take this seat.”
“But you are sure? The ladies will not mind if I ride with you? I should not like to be a burden, and some people do not approve of auto-stop.”
They assured him that this method of travelling was well-established even in England, and that they had no personal objection to it, had even used it on occasions. They installed the young man, his sandwich, and his rucksack. Christine, rendered thoughtful by the last glimpse of the gherkin as it vanished behind strong white teeth, reached into the food-box and began to compile a mid-morning snack.
“You are also students?” asked their new passenger, as they drove through Rozvadov, a nondescript street-village hardly different from those they had left on the other side of the frontier, except that, lacking the exact German tidiness, it appeared a little shaggier and dustier. “My name is Miroslav Zachar. To my friends Mirek—you will find it easier to remember. I am student of philosophy.”
They told him freely who they were, and what they were reading, and he overflowed with uninhibited questions, produced so naturally and confidently that it was impossible to find any of them offensive. They were on vacation, of course, like him? Was it their first visit to Czechoslovakia? Where were they going to stay in Prague? And where else did they intend to go? He was full of helpful suggestions. Castles, lakes, towns, he knew them all.
“You must do quite a lot of auto-stopping,” said Christine, busy with cheese and crackers. “You seem to have been everywhere.”
“I do it a lot, yes. Every holiday. Sometimes I go with friends, sometimes alone. It is better alone. For one person it is easy to get a lift.”
“And what made you come all the way out here? You
do
live in Prague?”
“I have been walking in these hills of the Bohemian Forest. Now I come back to the road, hoping to get a lift back into Prague quickly. This is a good place, foreign cars coming in here, naturally they rush straight to Prague. But I am lucky to meet some more students. That’s nice! I’m glad I time it so good. No, in Prague I have an uncle and aunt, if you will kindly take me so far I can stay with them, and afterwards stop another car,” he said serenely, “to take me on eastwards. Because of course you will be staying in Prague.”
“Perhaps only for one or two nights,” Tossa said suddenly, in that gruff boyish croak of hers, that could be so disconcerting to the unaccustomed ear.
They were on a stretch of road complicated by many climbing bends among trees, but without forks where Dominic could possibly go wrong. Miroslav Zachar abandoned his navigating for a moment to turn his head and study this dark-brown girl seriously. His amiable moon-face shone upon her approvingly.
“You will be going on so soon? But where?”
“Into Slovakia,” she said quite positively, asking no one’s agreement.
“No, really? You go to Bratislava, perhaps?”
“No,” she said, with the same authority; and if no one took her up on it now they were quite certainly committed. And no one did. “No, we want to go to the Tatras. We can make a longer stay in Prague on the way back. Is that the same way you wanted to go? You did say eastwards. Where is your home?”
“My home,” said Mirek, delighted, “is in Liptovsky Mikulás. That is very near the Tatra range. If you are really going so far, and if you would like to have a guide, believe me, I will make it easy for you, I will take care of everything. You have
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