"Yes! we have failed--perhaps. . ."
"But Armand?" she pleaded.
"Ah! Armand St. Just's chances hang on a thread. . .pray heaven, dear lady, that that thread may not snap.""Chauvelin, I worked for you, sincerely, earnestly. . . remember. . . .""I remember my promise," he said quietly. "The day that the Scarlet Pimpernel and I meet on French soil, St. Just will be in the arms of his charming sister.""Which means that a brave man's blood will be on my hands,"she said, with a shudder.
"His blood, or that of your brother. Surely at the present moment you must hope, as I do, that the enigmatical Scarlet Pimpernel will start for Calais to-day--""I am only conscious of one hope, citoyen.""And that is?"
"That Satan, your master, will have need of you elsewhere, before the sun rises to-day.""You flatter me, citoyenne."