The Elusive Pimpernel

  Once more the two men were alone.

  As far as Chauvelin was concerned he felt that everything was not yetsettled, and until a moment ago he had been in doubt as to whether SirPercy would accept the infamous conditions which had been put beforehim, or allow his pride and temper to get the better of him and throwthe deadly insults back into his adversary's teeth.

  But now a new secret had been revealed to the astute diplomatist. Aname, softly murmured by a broken-hearted woman, had told him a tale oflove and passion, which he had not even suspected before.

  Since he had made this discovery he knew that the ultimate issue was nolonger in doubt. Sir Percy Blakeney, the bold adventurer, ever readyfor a gamble where lives were at stake, might have demurred beforehe subscribed to his own dishonour, in order to save his wife fromhumiliation and the shame of the terrible fate that had been mappedout for her. But the same man passionately in love with such a woman asMarguerite Blakeney would count the world well lost for her sake.

  One sudden fear alone had shot through Chauvelin's heart when he stoodface to face with the two people whom he had so deeply and cruellywronged, and that was that Blakeney, throwing aside all thought of thescores of innocent lives that were at stake, might forget everything,risk everything, dare everything, in order to get his wife away thereand then.

  For the space of a few seconds Chauvelin had felt that his own lifewas in jeopardy, and that the Scarlet Pimpernel would indeed makea desperate effort to save himself and his wife. But the fear wasshort-lived: Marguerite--as he had well foreseen--would never saveherself at the expense of others, and she was tied! tied! tied! That washis triumph and his joy!

  When Marguerite finally left the room, Sir Percy made no motion tofollow her, but turned once more quietly to his antagonist.

  "As you were saying, Monsieur?..." he queried lightly.

  "Oh! there is nothing more to say, Sir Percy," rejoined Chauvelin; "myconditions are clear to you, are they not? Lady Blakeney's and your ownimmediate release in exchange for a letter written to me by your ownhand, and signed here by you--in this room--in my presence and that ofsundry other persons whom I need not name just now. Also certain moneypassing from my hand to yours. Failing the letter, a long, hideouslyhumiliating sojourn in the Temple prison for your wife, a prolongedtrial and the guillotine as a happy release!... I would add, the samething for yourself, only that I will do you the justice to admit thatyou probably do not care."

  "Nay! a grave mistake, Monsieur.... I do care... vastly care, I assureyou ... and would seriously object to ending my life on your demmedguillotine... a nasty, uncomfortable thing, I should say... and I amtold that an inexperienced barber is deputed to cut one's hair....Brrr!... Now, on the other hand, I like the idea of a national fete...that pretty wench Candeille, dressed as a goddess... the boom of thecannon when your amnesty comes into force.... You WILL boom the cannon,will you not, Monsieur?... Cannon are demmed noisy, but they areeffective sometimes, do you not think so, Monsieur?"

  "Very effective certainly, Sir Percy," sneered Chauvelin, "and we willcertainly boom the cannon from this very fort, an it so please you...."

  "At what hour, Monsieur, is my letter to be ready?"

  "Why! at any hour you please, Sir Percy."

  "The 'Day-Dream' could weigh anchor at eight o'clock... would an hourbefore that be convenient to yourself?"

  "Certainly, Sir Percy... if you will honour me by accepting myhospitality in these uncomfortable quarters until seven o'clockto-morrow eve?..."

  "I thank you, Monsieur..."

  "Then am I to understand, Sir Percy, that..."

  A loud and ringing laugh broke from Blakeney's lips.

  "That I accept your bargain, man!... Zounds! I tell you I accept... I'llwrite the letter, I'll sign it... an you have our free passes ready forus in exchange.... At seven o'clock to-morrow eve, did you say?... Man!do not look so astonished.... The letter, the signature, the money...all your witnesses... have everything ready.... I accept, I say....And now, in the name of all the evil spirits in hell, let me have somesupper and a bed, for I vow that I am demmed fatigued."

  And without more ado Sir Percy once more rang the handbell, laughingboisterously the while: then suddenly, with quick transition of mood,his laugh was lost in a gigantic yawn, and throwing his long body ontoa chair, he stretched out his legs, buried his hands in his pockets, andthe next moment was peacefully asleep.

  Chapter XXVIII: The Midnight Watch