It does not occur to him that it may be one of the people with arrows on his jacket who has come to take him away. That sort of thing is so usual in the house now, but he has nothing to fear from that quarter, and the certainty of it goes deep. It isn’t them, but these others who knock on doors and make trouble for everyone who wants to work. It’s one of that kind out there. He can stay put.

Martin suddenly stiffens. When he does not reply the door handle is seized and rattled, and, when that does not help either, something fearful happens: a key is inserted into the lock.

Listen!

He realizes he cannot shut himself in out of reach of trouble. Not as long as he is in this room. I must go and find those people who know how to get out of the way. I’ve heard that – but how can he have found a key?

The tiny sound of the key sliding into the lock is like cold steel piercing him through and through. He is on his feet, facing the door. The door opens as if someone were letting himself into his own room.

A man with a hat low over his forehead which he doesn’t remove. He simply steps in, closing the door behind him, and stands looking at Martin from under his hat. Is he a thief or a murderer? No, that idea does not occur to Martin. He knows exactly what this is about. His conscience has told him long ago. The people who come to him want only one thing at this time.

‘Well,’ says the man, keeping on the large hat to hide behind, ‘so you were at home? Not that I didn’t know.’

Martin steadies himself.

‘How did you come by the key to that door?’

‘I had it,’ answers the man curtly, as if there is no more to say.

‘You have no right to my latchkey. You should leave me in peace.’

The man stands there, his expression worn and clouded. He is tall and stooping.

‘Yes, there it slipped out,’ he says. ‘You want to be left in peace. But you are not to be left in peace any longer.’

Martin is not at all surprised. He knew at once what this man was after. He listens to what he is saying, tormented and anxious, but not surprised.

The man says, ‘We shall get in, to everyone who tries to hide. You people who won’t co-operate aren’t to get away with it.’

‘I don’t see the point of all this,’ says Martin, trying to look the man in the face.

The threatening face under the hat becomes even harsher, even more clouded.

‘So you don’t see the point.’

Martin says nothing.

‘Have you sunk as low as that?’ says the man, and Martin reddens with shame.

‘I don’t know…’

He is curtly interrupted.

‘We don’t come searching you out and breaking in for our own amusement. Everything’s at stake. Everyone must join us. You too. If you think you can wriggle out of it and still save your skin you’re mistaken. And you know it. You can’t persuade me you don’t feel I’m right.’