What do you think will happen?"

The young man was silent.

"Percy will arrive at his destination: unconscious of being followed he
will seek out de Tournay and the others--among these is Armand St. Just
my brother--he will seek them out, one after another, probably, not
knowing that the sharpest eyes in the world are watching his every
movement. When he has thus unconsciously betrayed those who blindly
trust in him, when nothing can be gained from him, and he is ready to
come back to England, with those whom he has gone so bravely to save,
the doors of the trap will close upon him, and he will be sent to end
his noble life upon the guillotine."

Still Sir Andrew was silent.

"You do not trust me," she said passionately. "Oh God! cannot you see
that I am in deadly earnest? Man, man," she added, while, with her tiny
hands she seized the young man suddenly by the shoulders, forcing him
to look straight at her, "tell me, do I look like that vilest thing on
earth--a woman who would betray her own husband?"

"God forbid, Lady Blakeney," said the young man at last, "that I should
attribute such evil motives to you, but . . ." "But what? . . . tell me.
. . . Quick, man! . . . the very seconds are precious!"

"Will you tell me," he asked resolutely, and looking searchingly into
her blue eyes, "whose hand helped to guide M. Chauvelin to the knowledge
which you say he possesses?"

"Mine," she said quietly, "I own it--I will not lie to you, for I wish
you to trust me absolutely. But I had no idea--how COULD I have?--of the
identity of the Scarlet Pimpernel . . . and my brother's safety was to be
my prize if I succeeded."

"In helping Chauvelin to track the Scarlet Pimpernel?"

She nodded.

"It is no use telling you how he forced my hand. Armand is more than a
brother to me, and . . . and . . . how COULD I guess? . . . But we waste
time, Sir Andrew . . . every second is precious . . . in the name of God!
. . . my husband is in peril . . . your friend!--your comrade!--Help me to
save him."

Sir Andrew felt his position to be a very awkward one. The oath he had
taken before his leader and comrade was one of obedience and secrecy;
and yet the beautiful woman, who was asking him to trust her, was
undoubtedly in earnest; his friend and leader was equally undoubtedly in
imminent danger and . . .

"Lady Blakeney," he said at last, "God knows you have perplexed me, so
that I do not know which way my duty lies. Tell me what y