The Secret Adversary

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She noticed now that he was greatly agitated. There were beads of
perspiration on his brow. He was evidently in a state of overmastering
fear. And yet he did not strike her as the kind of man who would be
afraid to meet death!

"Yes?" Her grave eyes met his inquiringly.

He stood looking at her with a kind of desperate irresolution.

"It must be!" he muttered to himself. "Yes--it is the only way." Then
aloud he said abruptly: "You are an American?"

"Yes."

"A patriotic one?"

The girl flushed.