He packed up the two swords again in the canvas, and put them under his arm.

Then he told me to follow him with the sketching materials.

I drew back from him without speaking; there was a horrid hollow sound in his voice that I did not like.

"Do as I tell you," he said: "you have yourself to thank for it if I refuse to lose sight of you now." I managed to say that he might trust me to say nothing.

He refused to trust me; he put out his hand to take hold of me.
I could not stand that.