“Simply that I will not allow any of you to venture your necks in this idiotic way.”
“Look here,” said Richard, angrily. “I’m quite as anxious to get over the frontier as anybody, but you might remember that none of you would be here at all, if it were not for Marie Lou!”
“Thank you.” The Duke’s voice had a trace of asperity. “If you were not so young, Richard, and I was not so fond of you, I should resent intensely your imputation on my honour. As it is I merely ask you not to be a fool.”
“Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“No, I am certain that you did not — but surely you have the sense to see that you would not get farther than Vinnitsa. The car would be recognized. There is a bullet through the mudguard, and another through the rear window. They would have you in prison before midday.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” Richard agreed, reluctantly, “but I can’t leave Marie Lou in Kiev. God knows what will happen to her. I’ll tell you the truth — I’m in love with her, and I’m half crazy with anxiety!”
De Richleau patted him on the arm. “I understand, my friend. I have known love myself, but in this case you can do nothing. You must be a good fellow and cross the frontier with the others tonight.”
“No, I’m damned if I will.”
“Yes, Richard — I wish it. Hasten to Bucharest and get in touch with the British Consul at Kiev as soon as you can. She is a British subject now, and that will stand her in good stead if she is in trouble.”
“But that will take days. Anything may happen to her in the meantime. She must be frantic with anxiety.”