sir," rejoined Sir Percy, apparently quite unruffled,
"pardon a slip of the tongue... we are so much the creatures of
habit.... As you were saying...?"

"I have but little more to say, sir.... But lest there should even now
be lurking in your mind a vague hope that, having written this letter,
you could easily in the future deny its authorship, let me tell you
this: my measures are well taken, there will be witnesses to your
writing of it.... You will sit here in this room, unfettered, uncoerced
in any way, and the money spoken of in the letter will be handed over to
you by my colleague, after a few suitable words spoken by him, and you
will take the money from him, Sir Percy... and the witnesses will
see you take it after having seen you write the letter... they will
understand that you are being PAID by the French government for giving
information anent royalist plots in this country and in England... they
will understand that your identity as the leader of that so-called band
is not only known to me and to my colleague, but that it also covers
your real character and profession as the paid spy of France."

"Marvellous, I call it... demmed marvellous," quoth Sir Percy blandly.

Chauvelin had paused, half-choked by his own emotion, his hatred and
prospective revenge. He passed his handkerchief over his forehead, which
was streaming with perspiration.

"Warm work, this sort of thing... eh... Monsieur... er...
Chaubertin?..." queried his imperturbable enemy.

Marguerite said nothing; the whole thing was too horrible for words,
but she kept her large eyes fixed upon her husband's face... waiting
for that look, that sign from him which would have eased the agonizing
anxiety in her heart, and which never came.

With a great effort now, Chauvelin pulled himself together and, though
his voice still trembled, he managed to speak with a certain amount of
calm:

"Probably, Sir Percy, you know," he said, "that throughout the whole of
France we are inaugurating a series of national fetes, in honour of the
new religion which the people are about to adopt.... Demoiselle Desiree
Candeille, whom you know, will at these festivals impersonate the
Goddess of Reason, the only deity whom we admit now in France.... She
has been specially chosen for this honour, owing to the services which
she has rendered us recently... and as Boulogne happens to be the lucky
city in which we have succeeded in bringing the Scarlet Pimpernel to
justi