‘Yes, but I will know now!’ I retorted, passion getting the better of me. ‘I have come so far with you. You will find it more easy to take me farther if you tell me your plans.’
‘You are a fool!’ he cried with a snarl.
‘Not so,’ I answered. ‘I ask only to know whither I am going.’
‘Into Spain,’ he said. ‘Will that satisfy you?’
‘And what will you do with me there?’ I asked, my heart giving a great bound.
‘Hand you over to some friends of ours,’ he answered curtly, ‘if you behave yourself. If not, there is a shorter way, and one that will save us some travelling. Make up your mind, Monsieur. Which shall it be?’
CHAPTER VI.
So that was their plan. Two or three hours to the southward, the long, white, glittering wall stretched east and west above the brown woods. Beyond that lay Spain. Once across the border, I might be detained, if no worse happened to me, as a prisoner of war; for we were then at war with Spain on the Italian side. Or I might be handed over to one of the savage bands, half smugglers, half brigands, that held the passes; or be delivered, worse fate of all, into the power of the French exiles, of whom some would be likely to recognise me and cut my throat.
‘It is a long way into Spain,’ I muttered, watching in a kind of fascination Clon handling his pistols.