She knew that if Percy now left the "Chat Gris"--in
whatever direction he happened to go--he could not go far without
being sighted by some of Captain Jutley's men on patrol. On the other
hand, if he stayed, then Desgas would have time to come back with the
dozen men Chauvelin had specially ordered.
The trap was closing in, and Marguerite could do nothing but
watch and wonder. The two men looked such a strange contrast, and of
the two it was Chauvelin who exhibited a slight touch of fear.
Marguerite knew him well enough to guess what was passing in his mind.
He had no fear for his own person, although he certainly was alone in
a lonely inn with a man who was powerfully built, and who was daring
and reckless beyond the bounds of probability. She knew that
Chauvelin would willingly have braved perilous encounters for the sake
of the cause he had at heart, but what he did fear was that this
impudent Englishman would, by knocking him down, double his own
chances of escape; his underlings might not succeed so sell in
capturing the Scarlet Pimpernel, when not directed by the cunning hand
and the shrewd brain, which had deadly hate for an incentive.
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