“Only my life—so far.”
“That’s Admiral Essiter, not the Government. They are keeping you prisoner here, with sentries outside, and calmly discussing whether they shall hand you over to be killed—and yet I know you wouldn’t escape if I found a way for you.”
“What would you propose?”
“Oh, you don’t mean that you would?” she cried joyfully. “I have so many plans. They keep suggesting themselves all day and night. And some of the officers would help, I am sure—Mr Cotway, at any rate, and Mr Suter——”
“And you would let Cotway ruin his career?”
“But it is for you—for your life,” said Zoe, with an unconscious selfishness which she recognised when she had uttered the words. “He would wish to do it, rather than connive at a national disgrace,” she added quickly. “They all say it would be that. Mr Suter said he should throw up his commission if it happened.”
“My dear girl, you really mustn’t lead these unfortunate youths into romantic pitfalls of this kind. Has nobody told you that I am on parole here? I gave my word as soon as I was able to sit up. The sentry whose presence you resent so much is really only here for my protection, in case of any kind attentions from our Roumi friends.”
“Of course I have never suggested it to any of them,” said Zoe, after a moment’s stunned silence. “I meant to have the plan all ready, and to get your consent, before I sounded Mr Cotway. But I knew you wouldn’t do it. It’s just like Maurice. Eirene wanted him to pretend to be dead, and let himself be carried away in a coffin, to be buried at home—I suggested it to her—but he wouldn’t. And the Powers go on talking and talking—and the Roumis are getting frightfully aggressive—and everything——”
“Aggressive in demanding that we should be given up, do you mean?”
“Yes—and that the Admirals should withdraw their landing-parties. They say it is the presence of the European forces that is keeping Southern Emathia in a ferment, of course, and that Jalal-ud-din could pacify the province in a week if he had it to himself.”