Sir Andrew Ffoulkes, however, was at home, and his servant
introduced her ladyship immediately. She went upstairs to the young
man's comfortable bachelor's chambers, and was shown into a small,
though luxuriously furnished, dining-room. A moment or two later Sir
Andrew himself appeared.
He had evidently been much startled when he heard who his lady
visitor was, for he looked anxiously--even suspiciously--at
Marguerite, whilst performing the elaborate bows before her, which the
rigid etiquette of the time demanded.
Marguerite had laid aside every vestige of nervousness; she
was perfectly calm, and having returned the young man's elaborate
salute, she began very calmly,--
"Sir Andrew, I have no desire to waste valuable time in much
talk. You must take certain things I am going to tell you for
granted. These will be of no importance. What is important is that
your leader and comrade, the Scarlet Pimpernel. . .my husband. . .
Percy Blakeney. . .is in deadly peril."
Had she the remotest doubt of the correctness of her
deductions, she would have had them confirmed now, for Sir Andrew,
completely taken by surprise, had grown very pale, and was quite
incapable of making the slightest attempt at clever parrying.
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