me to
understand that something had happened between you. It was only natural,
was it not? that I should make a shrewd guess as to the nature of that
'something.' I thereupon engaged the young man in a long and
animated conversation--we discussed Herr Gluck's singular success in
London--until a lady claimed his arm for supper."

"Since then?"

"I did not lose sight of him through supper. When we all came upstairs
again, Lady Portarles buttonholed him and started on the subject of
pretty Mlle. Suzanne de Tournay. I knew he would not move until Lady
Portarles had exhausted on the subject, which will not be for another
quarter of an hour at least, and it is five minutes to one now."

He was preparing to go, and went up to the doorway where, drawing
aside the curtain, he stood for a moment pointing out to Marguerite the
distant figure of Sir Andrew Ffoulkes in close conversation with Lady
Portarles.

"I think," he said, with a triumphant smile, "that I may safely expect
to find the person I seek in the dining-room, fair lady."

"There may be more than one."

"Whoever is there, as the clock strikes one, will be shadowed by one
of my men; of these, one, or perhaps two, or even three, will leave for
France to-morrow. ONE of these will be the 'Scarlet Pimpernel.'"

"Yes?--And?"

"I also, fair lady, will leave for France to-morrow. The papers found at
Dover upon the person of Sir Andrew Ffoulkes speak of the neighborhood
of Calais, of an inn which I know well, called 'Le Chat Gris,' of a
lonely place somewhere on the coast--the Pere Blanchard's hut--which
I must endeavor to find. All these places are given as the point where
this meddlesome Englishman has bidden the traitor de Tournay and others
to meet his emissaries. But it seems that he has decided not to send his
emissaries, that 'he will start himself to-morrow.' Now, one of these
persons whom I shall see anon in the supper-room, will be journeying
to Calais, and I shall follow that person, until I have tracked him to
where those fugitive aristocrats await him; for that person, fair lady,
will be the man whom I have sought for, for nearly a year, the man whose
energies has outdone me, whose ingenuity has baffled me, whose audacity
has set me wondering--yes! me!--who have seen a trick or two in my
time--the mysterious and elusive Scarlet Pimpernel."

"And Armand?" she pleaded.

"Have I ever broken my word? I promise you that the day the Scarlet
Pimpernel and I s