Part 35 (1/2)
”Again some infaainst his honour?”
”No, no, Lady Blakeney,” he interposed with perfect blandness ”Matters are so much simpler now, you see We hold Sir Percy at our uillotine to-ht--to exercise our prerogative of mercy if Sir Percy Blakeney will on his side accede to a request from us”
”And that request?”
”Is a very natural one He took Capet away from us, and it is but credible that he knows at the present moment exactly where the child is
Let him instruct his followers--and I mistake not, Lady Blakeney, there are several of them not very far from Paris just now--let him, I say, instruct these followers of his to return the person of young Capet to us, and not only e undertake to give these saht be inclined to deal soallant Scarlet Pihed a harsh, h
”I don't think that I quite understand,” she said after a moment or thilst he waited calmly until her out-break of hysterical mirth had subsided ”You want my husband--the Scarlet Pi of France to you after he has risked his life to save the child out of your clutches? Is that what you are trying to say?”
”It is,” rejoined Chauvelin co to Sir Percy Blakeney for the past six days, madame”
”Well! then you have had your answer, have you not?”
”Yes,” he replied slowly; ”but the answer has become weaker day by day”
”Weaker? I don't understand”
”Let me explain, Lady Blakeney,” said Chauvelin, noith measured emphasis He put both elbows on the table and leaned well forward, peering into her face, lest one of its varied expressions escaped hiain at Boulogne, with a proud toss of the head, which I own is excessive beco; you threw the nae which I no longer dare to accept 'The Scarlet Pimpernel,' you would say to me, 'stands for loyalty, for honour, and for indoe Think you he would sacrifice his honour to obtain your ne and your disco and wo my humble head, ne
But in Boulogne I rave mistake, and one fro into practice now”
He paused a while as if waiting for her reply His pale, keen eyes had already noted that with every phrase he uttered the lines in her beautiful face beca over it, as if the icy-cold hand of death had passed over her eyes and cheeks, leaving thene,” resu steadily at her heart--”in Boulogne Sir Percy and I did not fight an equal fight Fresh fronificent home, full of the spirit of adventure which puts the essence of life into a man's veins, Sir Percy Blakeney's splendid physique was pitted against my feeble powers Of course I lost the battle Ito subdue a th, whereas now--”
”Yes, citizen Chauvelin,” she said, ”whereas now--”
”Sir Percy Blakeney has been in the prison of the Conciergerie for exactly one week, Lady Blakeney,” he replied, speaking very slowly, and letting every one of his words sink individually into her s of his cell or to plan on his own behalf one of those rean to work on a scheinated with one by since then, Lady Blakeney, and during that ti under the orders of the Committee of General Security and of Public Safety, have questioned the prisoner unreht Two by two these men take it in turns to enter the prisoner's cell every quarter of an hour--lately it has had to be more often--and ask him the one question, 'Where is little Capet?' Up to noe have received no satisfactory reply, although we have explained to Sir Percy that hbourhood of Paris with their visit, and that all we ask for fro young Capet back to us It is all very simple, unfortunately the prisoner is somewhat obstinate At first, even, the idea seeh and say that he always had the faculty of sleeping with his eyes open But our soldiers are untiring in their efforts, and the want of sleep as well as of a sufficiency of food and of fresh air is certainly beginning to tell on Sir Percy Blakeney'sbefore he gives way to our gentle persuasions; and in any case now, I assure you, dear lady, that we need not fear any attempt on his part to escape I doubt if he could walk very steadily across this roouerite had sat quite silent and apparently i; even now she scarcely stirred Her face expressed absolutely nothing but deep puzzlement There was a frown between her brows, and her eyes, which were always of such liquid blue, now looked al to visualise that which Chauvelin had put before her: a ly, with one question allowed neither respite nor sleep--his brain, soul, and body fagged out at every hour, every ht, until uish ten thousand times more unendurable than any physical torment invented by monsters in barbaric tied out, thus ht, was her husband, who, with every throb of her heart
Torture? Oh, no! these were advanced and civilised times that could afford to look with horror on the excesses of ress, and challenged the opinion of the world The cells of the Teerie held no secret inquisition with iron maidens and racks and thuether, and had said one to another: ”We want to find out from that man where we can lay our hands on little Capet, so on't let him sleep until he has told us It is not torture--oh, no! Who would dare to say that we torture our prisoners? It is only a little horseplay, worrying to the prisoner, no doubt; but, after all, he can end the unpleasantness at any o to sleep as co, the want of proper food and of fresh air is very weakening; the prisoner ive way sooner or later--”
So these fiends had decided it between them, and they had put their idea into execution for one whole week Marguerite looked at Chauvelin as she would on so if God--even in His anger--could really have created such a fiendish brain, or, having created it, could allow it to wreak such devilry unpunished
Even now she felt that he was enjoying the uish which he had put upon her, and she saw his thin, evil lips curled into a sht to tell me all this?” she asked as soon as she could trust herself to speak Her ination, her horror of hied to call down God's eternal curse upon this fiend; but instinctively she held herself in check Her indignation, her words of loathing would only have added to his delight
”You have had your wish,” she added coldly; ”now, I pray you, go”
”Your pardon, Lady Blakeney,” he said with all his habitual blandness; ”ht that I was acting as your friend in giving you authentic news of Sir Percy, and in suggesting the possibility of your adding your persuasion to ours”
”My persuasion? You mean that I--”