“I don’t know. He might and he might not. He’ll probably act as if he didn’t.”
I appreciated the justice of this forecast of General Whittingham’s measures.
“Well, we must chance it,” I said. “At any rate, better be caught by him than stay here. We were, perhaps, a little hasty with that revolution of ours.”
“I never thought the colonel was so wicked,” said the signorina.
We had no time to waste in abusing our enemy; the question was how to outwit him. I unfolded my plan to the signorina, not at all disguising from her the difficulties, and even dangers, attendant upon it. Whatever may have been her mind before and after, she was at this moment either so overcome with her fear of the colonel, or so carried away by her feeling for me, that she made nothing of difficulties and laughed at dangers, pointing out that though failure would be ignominious, it could not substantially aggravate our present position. Whereas, if we succeeded—
The thought of success raised a prospect of bliss in which we reveled for a few minutes; then, warned by the stroke of twelve, we returned to business.
“Are you going to take any of the money away with you?” she asked.
“No,” said I, “I don’t think so. It would considerably increase the risk if I were seen hanging about the bank; you know he’s got spies all over the place. Besides, what good would it do? I couldn’t stick to it, and I’m not inclined to run any more risks merely to save the bank’s pocket. The bank hasn’t treated me so well as all that. I propose to rely on your bounty till I’ve time to turn round.”
“Now, shall I come for you?” I asked her when we had arranged the other details.
“I think not,” she said. “I believe the colonel has one of my servants in his pay. I can slip out by myself, but I couldn’t manage so well if you were with me. The sight of you would excite curiosity. I will meet you at the bottom of Liberty Street.”