“But, ah, why make them angry?” murmured Lucille.
A few more words, and Denham came back. One look at his face made questions almost needless.
“Then I am to go, Den?”
“I fear—no help for it. The men have authority. You will have to spend to-night in the citadel. But I am coming with you, and I shall insist upon seeing Wirion himself.”
“But you—you cannot! You are ill!” remonstrated Lucille. “Will not Colonel Baron go? Not you.”
He put aside the objection as unimportant.
“Roy must take a few things with him—not more than he can carry himself. I hope it may be only for the one night. They allow us twenty minutes—not longer. That is a concession.”
“I will put his things together for him,” Lucille said quickly.
“One moment. May I beg a kindness?”
“Anything in the world.”