You're a pukka soldier and keen on your job. So
I want you to know that you are free to turn down this offer of
mine here and now, and go back to France without my thinking a
bit the worse of you."
"Would you tell me something about it?" asked Desmond.
"I'm sorry I can't," replied the other. "There must be only two
men in this secret, myself and the fellow who undertakes the
mission. Of course, it's not certain death. If you take this
thing on, you'll have a sporting chance for your life, but that's
all. It's going to be a desperate game played against a desperate
opponent. Now do you understand why I didn't want you to think I
was flattering you? You've got your head screwed on right, I
know, but I should hate to feel afterwards, if anything went
wrong, that you thought I had buttered you up in order to entice
you into taking the job on!"
Desmond took two or three deep puffs of his cigarette and dropped
it into the ash-tray.
"I'll see you!" he said.
The Chief grinned with delight.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed, "I knew you were my man!"
CHAPTER VII. NUR-EL-DIN
The love of romance is merely the, nobler form of curiosity. And
there was something in Desmond Okewood's Anglo-Irish parentage
that made him fiercely inquisitive after adventure.
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