‘Well it does not much matter,’ I replied grandly. ‘I shall be at Auch by noon.’
‘That is as may be,’ he answered with another grin.
I did not understand him, but I had something else to think about, and I opened the door and stepped out, intending to go to the stable. Then in a second I comprehended. The cold air laden with woodland moisture met me and went to my bones; but it was not that which made me shiver. Outside the door, in the road, sitting on horseback in silence, were two men. One was Clon. The other, who had a spare horse by the rein—my horse—was a man I had seen at the inn, a rough, shock-headed, hard-bitten fellow. Both were armed, and Clon was booted. His mate rode barefoot, with a rusty spur strapped to one heel.
The moment I saw them a sure and certain fear crept into my mind: it was that which made me shiver. 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. ‘There are no strangers in the village to-day,’ he added, with a significant smile.