“Yes; but the other way is hopeless; you can't smuggle a big transport in at a harbour where there is no trade, and you know the whole shipping of Civita Vecchia amounts to about three row-boats and a fishing smack. If we once get the things across Tuscany, I can manage the Papal frontier; my men know every path in the mountains, and we have plenty of hiding-places. The transport must come by sea to Leghorn, and that is my great difficulty; I am not in with the smugglers there, and I believe you are.”
“Give me five minutes to think.”
She leaned forward, resting one elbow on her knee, and supporting the chin on the raised hand. After a few moments' silence she looked up.
“It is possible that I might be of some use in that part of the work,” she said; “but before we go any further, I want to ask you a question. Can you give me your word that this business is not connected with any stabbing or secret violence of any kind?”
“Certainly. It goes without saying that I should not have asked you to join in a thing of which I know you disapprove.”
“When do you want a definite answer from me?”
“There is not much time to lose; but I can give you a few days to decide in.”
“Are you free next Saturday evening?”
“Let me see—to-day is Thursday; yes.”
“Then come here. I will think the matter over and give you a final answer.”