"I know it," groaned the girl, choking down a sob. "I know it. We talked it all over beforehand. But it was a question of his life or mine."
"Are you sure he is not tricking us?" gasped Clif—"kidnapping us?"
The girl smiled sadly.
"You do not understand the circumstances," she said. "Wait, and let me tell you."
Clif missed in his friend the old self-reliant manner that she had always had; she was nervous and weak, and it was plain that she was not well.
And Clif was trembling all over with anxiety as he watched her.
"Go on!" he cried. "Tell me. How did you get here, in the first place?"
"You left me with Gomez," began the girl, taking a deep breath. "I did not stay very long, for he was marching about, and I could not stand the strain. He wanted me to go to one of the Cuban villages in the interior where his family was; but I was anxious to get back to the United States. And so I came here to Havana——"
"To Havana!"
"Yes, for I thought no one would know me."