"Yes," she said, doing her best to meet his mood of calm-eyed practicality.
"The officer will be the only man armed, of those five. I'll attend to him. Before the other four can get to their carbines we'll be off—you'll be off, I mean, for remember, whatever happens, you are to get to that starting-lever and get away with the car. I'll be holding the men off until we’re clear."
"Clear of what?"
"Clear of that shed—and of the wharf. Then, once out of the town, we've got a clear run until we strike De Brigard's outposts. It will be simply a matter of rushing them—and trusting to luck.”
"It's hopeless," she sobbed.
"To stay six more hours on this steamer is more hopeless!"
"Even if we did get through," she tried to explain, "we couldn't get into Guariqui. They would fire on a car breaking into their lines—they would kill us both, before they could understand!"
He shook his head dissentingly.
“We'll have to warn them in some way ..... that is only one of the smaller problems!"
He caught up his coat, and dropped a revolver
