About midday
But before long we lost the sea and the lonely islands ; for at a place named Segna our road turned inland and climbed a high mountain -- the Velebit -- at whose feet we had been travelling . As we were trying to make a run of more than a hundred and twenty-five miles -- a good deal for a heavily-loaded car of twelve horse-power -- the Chauffeulier kept the automobile constantly going `` for all she was worth . '' He had planned that we should spend the night at the sea-coast town of Zara -- that place so inextricably tangled up in Venetian history -- for there we might find a hotel fit to stop at . About midday we lunched at a mean town called Gospic , and vast was the upheaval that our advent caused . As we drove in , looking right and left for the cleanest inn , every able-bodied person under seventy and several considerably over ran to follow , their figures swarming after us as a tail follows a comet . At the door of our chosen lunching-place they surged round the car , pressing against us , and even plucking at our dresses as we pushed through into the house . Spray from this human wave tossed into the passage and eating-room in our wake , until the burly innkeeper , his large wife , and two solid handmaidens swept it out by sheer weight .