For twenty minutes, the people at the hotel were busy talking, arguing, and trying to decide what to do.
We will leave Bechamel to his furious swearing. He had already caused enough trouble.
Instead, let us follow Hoopdriver and the Young Lady in Grey.
They rode into the moonlit night as fast as they could.
Their hearts were pounding, and every sound behind them seemed to mean that someone was coming after them.
Hoopdriver had completely forgotten who he was supposed to be in ordinary life.
He was no longer the nervous shop assistant who always tried to please everyone.
Tonight, he felt like a hero in a grand adventure.
He imagined himself rescuing a helpless young woman and carrying her away from danger.
If a policeman had stopped them because their bicycle lamps were not lit, he imagined himself knocking the man aside and riding on.
If Bechamel had appeared with a sword and challenged him to a duel, Hoopdriver felt certain he would have fought bravely.
This was Rescue.
This was Adventure.
This was Glory.
And the girl he was rescuing was riding beside him.
He had seen her face in the morning sunlight.
He had seen her eyes full of tears.
But under the soft light of the summer moon, she seemed more beautiful than ever.
At first, neither of them paid much attention to where they were going.
They simply wanted to get as far away from Bognor as possible.
They rode through quiet streets, past houses with warm lights in their windows, and then along dark country roads.
Soon they were riding between hedges.
Beyond the hedges lay wide meadows covered in a thin layer of mist.
They said very little.
Every now and then, one of them spoke when the road turned or became rough.
The night was warm and strangely quiet.
The only sounds were the soft movement of their bicycles and the occasional noise from the road.
Hoopdriver kept looking at Jessie.
When the road turned, she became a dark figure against the moonlight.
Then the road turned again, and the pale light touched her hair and face.
The moon seemed to make everything around them softer and more beautiful.
The ordinary world of daylight had disappeared.
The hills looked like distant shadows.
The road that had been hot, dusty, and unpleasant during the day now looked almost magical.
Above them, the full moon shone brightly in the clear blue sky.
Only two bright stars were near it.
Under that gentle light, the two travelers continued riding side by side.
And perhaps nowhere was the moon shining more brightly than inside Hoopdriver’s imagination.
Whenever they reached a fork in the road, he immediately made a decision.
“The right,” he said confidently.
A little later, he would say:
“The left.”
He had no real idea which way they should go.
But he spoke as though he knew exactly what he was doing.
After about an hour, they suddenly came down a narrow lane and found themselves facing the sea.
There was a quiet beach on both sides.
A small white cottage stood nearby, and a fishing boat rested beside it.
Hoopdriver stopped.
“Hullo,” he whispered.
They both got off their bicycles.
Hoopdriver took off his cap and gave Jessie a grand little bow.
“You’re safe,” he said.
“Where are we?”
“Safe.”
“But where?”
“Chichester Harbour.”
He pointed proudly toward the sea.
“Do you think they’ll follow us?”
“We’ve turned so many times that they won’t know which way we went.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Hoopdriver thought he heard her crying.
She stood beside her bicycle, half-hidden in the moonlight.
“What are we going to do now?” she asked.
“Are you tired?”
“I’ll do whatever needs to be done.”
There was another silence.
Then Jessie spoke quietly.
“You know, I’m not afraid of you.”
Hoopdriver looked at her.
“I’m sure you’re honest with me.”
She hesitated.
“And I don’t even know your name.”
Hoopdriver suddenly felt embarrassed about his real surname.
“It’s an ugly name,” he said.
“But you’re right to trust me. I would do anything to help you.”
She took a breath.
“We’ll have to trust each other, then.”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to know what happened to me?”
Hoopdriver nodded.
“That man promised to help me and protect me.”
She looked toward the dark sea.
“I was unhappy at home. I don’t want to explain everything. My stepmother made me feel trapped. I had nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no real freedom.”
Hoopdriver listened carefully.
“Then he came into my life,” Jessie continued.
“He talked to me about art and literature. He made me excited about the world.”
“I wanted to leave home,” she said.
“I wanted to become a real person, not someone locked away and controlled.”
“And he…”
“I know,” Hoopdriver said quietly.
Jessie looked at him.
“And now look at me.”
“I’ll help you,” Hoopdriver said.
“I’ll do whatever I can.”
She was silent for a moment.
“You can’t imagine what my stepmother is like.”
“No,” she continued. “I couldn’t even explain her properly.”
“Whatever happens,” Hoopdriver said, “I’m here to help you.”
Jessie gave a small, tired smile.
“I lost an illusion,” she said.
“And somehow I found a knight in shining armor.”
She meant Bechamel when she spoke of the illusion.
Hoopdriver felt enormously pleased by the comparison.
He didn’t know what to say.
Instead, he began thinking about what they should do next.
“You’re tired,” he said.
“We can’t keep riding all night after everything that’s happened today.”
Jessie looked at him.
“That place we passed earlier was Chichester, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Hoopdriver hesitated.
Then he spoke carefully.
“If you wanted to… you could think of me as your brother.”
Jessie looked at him.
“Your brother?”
“Yes.”
“We could stay in Chichester together. That way, no one would think anything strange about us.”
Jessie considered the idea.
Hoopdriver bent down to light his bicycle lamp.
He struck a match against his shoe.
The brief light fell across his face.
Jessie looked at him carefully.
For the first time, she wondered how she could ever have thought him ordinary or ridiculous.
“You still haven’t told me your name, brother,” she said.
Hoopdriver paused.
“Carrington,” he said.
“Carrington?”
“Yes.”
“And your first name?”
“My first name?”
“Yes.”
He thought for a moment.
“Chris.”
He closed the lamp and stood up.
“Hold my bicycle for me. I’ll light yours.”
Jessie took his bicycle.
For a moment, they stood facing each other in the moonlight.
“My name is Jessie,” she said.
“Jessie,” Hoopdriver repeated slowly.
Something changed in his expression.
Jessie noticed it immediately.
She felt strangely embarrassed by the intensity in his eyes.
“It’s not such a wonderful name, is it?” she said with a little laugh.
Hoopdriver opened his mouth to answer.
Then he changed his mind.
He turned away and knelt beside her bicycle to light the lamp.
Jessie looked down at him.
There was an unexpected warmth in her eyes.
It was a night of full moonlight, and everything seemed possible.