“That will do. We will talk the matter over tomorrow. In the meanwhile you will accept the hospitality of the guard-room.”
“But, sir . . .”
“But me no buts, if you please; leave the room.”
I was taken to the guard-room where I spent the night seated on the ground. The daylight appeared. I shouted, swore, made all the racket I could, said I wanted to go on, but nobody took any notice of me.
Ten o’clock struck. More impatient than I can say, I raised my voice and spoke to the officer, telling him that the governor might assassinate me if he liked, but had no right to deny me pen and paper, or to deprive me of the power of sending a messenger to Paris.
“Your name, sir?”
“Here is my passport.”
He told me that he would take it to the governor, but I snatched it away from him.
“Would you like to see the governor?”
“Yes, I should.”