"You mean to fight then? You are going to join this man—what's his name—General Almaida?"
There was a short pause.
"Somehow or other," said Tony, "I am going to get Isabel back. It's no good asking me exactly how I shall do it, because at the present moment I don't know. The only thing I have quite made up my mind about is that I shall either come back with her, or else I shan't come back at all." He looked up smilingly at Guy. "Now you understand what I meant when I said I didn't want to drag you into it."
A faint flush mounted into Guy's naturally pale face.
"Do you think I am a coward, Tony?" he inquired very deliberately.
"Of course not," returned Tony. "Any man who has a cold bath as you do every morning must be brave. Still that's no reason why you should run a quite unnecessary risk of getting shot—especially as you have disapproved of the whole business ever since the start."
"Who could help disapproving of it?" burst out Guy feelingly. "It's the maddest and most impossible affair in which any sane person was ever mixed up." He paused as if to recover himself. "All the same," he added quickly, "I should like to come with you, Tony, if you think I could be of any use."
Tony patted him approvingly on the shoulder. "Any use!" he repeated. "Why, my dear old Guy, I would rather have you with me than the Seven Champions of Christendom. I am sure you would be a lot more reliable in a really tight corner."
"Have you got any sort of a plan at all?" inquired Guy a little hopelessly.
"Well, I've an idea," said Tony. "It's hardly a plan yet, but it may be by the time I get back."