But
you needn't think I am going to make love to
her, or worry about it. I am only going
to----"
His voice died away in a strange, faint whisper.
Martini came a step nearer.
"Only going--to----"
"To die."
He was staring straight before him with a cold,
fixed look, as if he were dead already. When he
spoke again his voice was curiously lifeless and even.
"You needn't worry her about it beforehand,"
he said; "but there's not the ghost of a chance for
me. It's dangerous for everyone; that she knows
as well as I do; but the smugglers will do their
best to prevent her getting taken. They are good
fellows, though they are a bit rough. As for me,
the rope is round my neck, and when I cross the
frontier I pull the noose."
"Rivarez, what do you mean? Of course it's
dangerous, and particularly so for you; I understand
that; but you have often crossed the frontier
before and always been successful."
"Yes, and this time I shall fail."
"But why? How can you know?"
The Gadfly smiled drearily.
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