But I did not speak to them.

I went in again and closed the door behind me.

The landlord was putting on his boots.
'What does this mean ?' I said hoarsely--though I had a clear prescience of what was coming.

'Why are these men here ?' 'Orders,' he answered laconically.
'Whose orders ?' I retorted.
'Whose ?' he answered bluntly.

'Well, Monsieur, that is my business.
Enough that we mean to see you out of the country, and out of harm's way.' 'But if I will not go ?' I cried.
'Monsieur will go,' he answered coolly.