In a few hours it would become known that he had travelled to Paris with two ladies, and it was as much as his (my host's) neck was worth to allow those ladies to remain another hour in his house.

Indeed his duty was to inform the authorities at once who his guests were.
Happily for us his hotel had been visited by the police only the night before--ere the travellers arrived--and he had not yet exposed their names on his list.

But it was known that the baggage, delivered last night, bore the name of the suspected Cazin, and that was enough to ruin us all.
You may fancy the distress of the ladies at this news.

All they could do was to hand one of their little rolls of _assignats_ to the landlord, and promise that within an hour he should be rid of them.
"But the baggage," said mine host, who, in the midst of his perturbation, saw his way to a _solatium_ for himself; "I must detain that, and hand it over if required." "But it is not Monsieur Cazin's; it is my lady's, who is no connection of the suspect," said I.
"If the ladies cannot part with their baggage," said mine host, fumbling the notes, "they must remain here with it.

I confiscate it in the name of the Republic One and Indivisible." It was no use arguing or appealing; our only hope lay in civility.
"Citizen host," said I, "is quite right, and the ladies are grateful for his consideration.