. .you see everything, you HEAR everything."
"Easy, my friend," retorted Marguerite, drawing, herself up to
her full height and looking down, with a slight thought of contempt on
the small, thin figure before her. "Easy! you seem to forget that
there are six feet of Sir Percy Blakeney, and a long line of ancestors
to stand between Lady Blakeney and such a thing as you propose."
"For the sake of France, citoyenne!" reiterated Chauvelin, earnestly.
"Tush, man, you talk nonsense anyway; for even if you did know who this
Scarlet Pimpernel is, you could do nothing to him--an Englishman!"
"I'd take my chance of that," said Chauvelin, with a dry,
rasping little laugh. "At any rate we could send him to the
guillotine first to cool his ardour, then, when there is a diplomatic
fuss about it, we can apologise--humbly--to the British Government,
and, if necessary, pay compensation to the bereaved family."
"What you propose is horrible, Chauvelin," she said, drawing
away from him as from some noisome insect. "Whoever the man may be,
he is brave and noble, and never--do you hear me?--never would I lend
a hand to such villiany.
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