site low curtsey before His Royal Highness. But the
Prince, forgetting his accustomed gallantry, was also absorbed in the
little scene before him. He, too, was looking from the sable-clad figure
of Chauvelin to that of gorgeously arrayed Sir Percy. He, too, like
Marguerite, was wondering what was passing behind the low, smooth
forehead of that inimitable dandy, what behind the inscrutably
good-humoured expression of those sleepy eyes.

Of the five persons thus present in the dark and stuffy booth, certainly
Sir Percy Blakeney seemed the least perturbed. He had paused just long
enough to allow Chauvelin to become fully conscious of a feeling
of supreme irritation and annoyance, then he strolled up to the
ex-ambassador, with hand outstretched and the most engaging of smiles.

"Ha!" he said, with his usual half-shy, half-pleasant-tempered smile,
"my engaging friend from France! I hope, sir, that our demmed climate
doth find you well and hearty to-day."

The cheerful voice seemed to ease the tension. Marguerite sighed a sigh
of relief. After all, what was more natural than that Percy with his
amazing fund of pleasant irresponsibility should thus greet the man
who had once vowed to bring him to the guillotine? Chauvelin, himself,
accustomed by now to the audacious coolness of his enemy, was scarcely
taken by surprise. He bowed low to His Highness, who, vastly amused at
Blakeney's sally, was inclined to be gracious to everyone, even though
the personality of Chauvelin as a well-known leader of the regicide
government was inherently distasteful to him. But the Prince saw in
the wizened little figure before him an obvious butt for his friend
Blakeney's impertinent shafts, and although historians have been unable
to assert positively whether or no George Prince of Wales knew aught of
Sir Percy's dual life, yet there is no doubt that he was always ready
to enjoy a situation which brought about the discomfiture of any of the
Scarlet Pimpernel's avowed enemies.

"I, too, have not met M. Chauvelin for many a long month," said His
Royal Highness with an obvious show of irony. "And I mistake not, sir,
you left my father's court somewhat abruptly last year."

"Nay, your Royal Highness," said Percy gaily, "my friend Monsieur...
er... Chaubertin and I had serious business to discuss, which could only
be dealt with in France.... Am I not right, Monsieur?"

"Quite right, Sir Percy," replied Chauvelin curtly.

"We had to discuss abom