behind him all this while. After a moment's pause, he said
deliberately,--

"I accept."

"Go and wait outside then," said Chauvelin, "and remember to stick to
your bargain, or by Heaven, I will keep to mine."

With a final, most abject and cringing bow, the old Jew shuffled out of
the room. Chauvelin seemed pleased with his interview, for he rubbed
his hands together, with that usual gesture of his, of malignant
satisfaction.

"My coat and boots," he said to Desgas at last.

Desgas went to the door, and apparently gave the necessary orders, for
presently a soldier entered, carrying Chauvelin's coat, boots, and hat.

He took off his soutane, beneath which he was wearing close-fitting
breeches and a cloth waistcoat, and began changing his attire.

"You, citoyen, in the meanwhile," he said to Desgas, "go back to Captain
Jutley as fast as you can, and tell him to let you have another dozen
men, and bring them with you along the St. Martin Road, where I daresay
you will soon overtake the Jew's cart with myself in it. There will be
hot work presently, if I mistake not, in the Pere Blanchard's hut. We
shall corner our game there, I'll warrant, for this impudent Scarlet
Pimpernel has had the audacity--or the stupidity, I hardly know
which--to adhere to his original plans. He has gone to meet de Tournay,
St. Just and the other traitors, which for the moment, I thought,
perhaps, he did not intend to do. When we find them, there will be a
band of desperate men at bay. Some of our men will, I presume, be put
HORS DE COMBAT. These royalists are good swordsmen, and the Englishman
is devilish cunning, and looks very powerful. Still, we shall be five
against one at least. You can follow the cart closely with your men, all
along the St. Martin Road, through Miquelon. The Englishman is ahead of
us, and not likely to look behind him."

Whilst he gave these curt and concise orders, he had completed his
change of attire. The priest's costume had been laid aside, and he was
once more dressed in his usual dark, tight-fitting clothes. At last he
took up his hat.

"I shall have an interesting prisoner to deliver into your hands," he
said with a chuckle, as with unwonted familiarity he took Desgas' arm,
and led him towards the door. "We won't kill him outright, eh, friend
Desgas? The Pere Blanchard's hut is--an I mistake not--a lonely spot
upon the beach, and our men will enjoy a bit of rough sport there with
the wounded fox. Choose