The Scarlet Pimpernel"Who is this man, this Scarlet Pimpernel?" Each day this question grew more pressing to the rulers of the French Revolution. Only this man and his band of followers threatened their total power. Only this maddeningly elusive figure defied the vast network of fanatics, informers, and secret agents that the Revolution spread out to catch its enemies. Some said this man of many disguises, endless ruses, and infinite daring was an exiled French nobleman, returned to wreak vengeance. Others said he was an English lord, seeking sheer adventure and supreme sport in playing the most dangerous game of all. But of only one thing could those who sought him be sure. They knew all too well the symbol of his presence, the blood-red flower known as the Scarlet Pimpernel. |
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aristos Armand St arms asked beautiful Benjamin Rosenbaum Bibot Blakeney's brave Brogard brother Calais Chauvelin citoyen cliffs close coach coffee-room Comtesse de Tournay daring Day Dream demmed Desgas door Dover enemy England English face fair lady fear felt Fisherman's Rest France French fugitives guerite guillotine hand hear heard heart Hempseed honour hope horses hour husband inane Jellyband knew Lady Blakeney ladyship laugh les aristos listened little Suzanne lonely looked Lord Antony Lord Grenville Lord Grenville's Madame Marguerite Blakeney Marguerite St Marguerite's Monsieur murmured night Odd's once pretty quietly ready replied road round Sally Scarlet Pimpernel secret orchard seemed sigh Sir Andrew Ffoulkes Sir Percy Blakeney smile soldiers St Cyr stood suddenly supper tall Englishman tall stranger tell terrible thought to-night turned utter Vicomte voice waiting watched whilst whispered woman wonder young
Popular passages
Page 118 - We seek him here, we seek him there, Those Frenchies seek him everywhere. Is he in heaven? Is he in hell? That demmed, elusive Pimpernel.
Page 79 - France," she retorted proudly ; " as for me, I can do nothing . . . here in England. . . ." " Yes, you ..." be urged still more earnestly, whilst bis thin fox-like face seemed suddenly to bave grown impressive and full of dignity, "here, in England, citoyenne . . . you alone can help us. ... Listen ! — I have been sent over here by the Republican' Government as its representative : I present my credentials to Mr Pitt in London to-morrow.
Page 82 - ... Marguerite Blakeney turned her back on him and walked straight into the inn. "That is not your last word, citoyenne," said Chauvelin, as a flood of light from the passage illumined her elegant, richly-clad figure, "we meet in London, I hope!" "We meet in London," she said, speaking over her shoulder at him, "but that is my last word." She threw open the coffee-room door and disappeared from his view, but he remained under the porch for a moment or two, taking a pinch of snuff. He had received...
Page 3 - Every afternoon before the gates closed and the market carts went out in procession by the various barricades, some fool of an aristo endeavoured to evade the clutches of the Committee of Public Safety. In various disguises, under various pretexts, they tried to slip through the barriers which were so well guarded by citizen soldiers of the Republic Men in women's clothes, women in male attire, childr disguised in beggars...
Page 79 - I do, dtoyenne, that once they are over here, those French emigres try to rouse public feeling against the Republic. . . . They are ready to join issue with any enemy bold enough to attack France. . . . Now, within the last month, scores of these emigres, some only suspected of treason, others actually condemned by the Tribunal of Public Safety, have succeeded in crossing the Channel. Their escape in each instance was planned, organized and effected by this society of young English jackanapes, headed...
Page 2 - ... 17). — The book of talk is printed only because its author cannot speak to thousands of people at once (Ruskin, Sesame and Lilies § 9). — It was only because her health was weak -(Conan Doyle, Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes. T. I, 104).— I only saw it because I was looking for it (Ibid. 37). — The carnage had only ceased at this late hour of the day because . . . (Orczy, The Scarlet Pimpernel. Noordhof 1). — I only told you because you said . . (Glynn, Visits of Eliz., T. 46). — But...
Page 54 - Incroyable" fashions, which had just crept across from Paris to England, with the perfect good taste innate in an English gentleman. On this special afternoon in September, in spite of the long journey by coach, in spite of rain and mud, his coat set irreproachably across his fine shoulders, his hands looked almost femininely white, as they emerged through billowy frills of finest Mechlin lace : the extravagantly shortwaisted satin coat, wide-lapelled waistcoat, and tightfitting striped breeches,...
Page 163 - He was but a man madly, blindly, passionately in love, and as soon as her light footstep had died away within the house, he knelt down upon the terrace steps, and in the very madness of his love he kissed one by one the places where her small foot had trodden, and the stone balustrade there, where her tiny hand had rested last.
Page 81 - ... Chauvelin had finished speaking, the lace at her bosom rose and fell with her quick, excited breathing; she no longer heard the noise of drinking from the inn, she did not heed her husband's voice or his inane laugh, her thoughts had gone wandering in search of the mysterious hero! Ahl There was a man she might have loved, had he come her way: everything in him appealed to her romantic imagination; his personality, his strength, his bravery, the loyalty of those who served under him in the same...
Page 99 - The other day, citoyenne," he said, "I asked for your help. . . . France needed it, and I thought I could rely on you, but you gave me your answer. . . . Since then the exigencies of my own affairs and your own social duties have kept us apart . . . although many things have happened. . . ." "To the point, I pray you, citoyen," she said lightly; "the music is entrancing, and the audience will get impatient of your talk.