# data[].attributes.body
¨Marguerite’s breath stopped short; she seemed to feel her very life standing still momentarily whilst she listened to that voice and to that song. In the singer she had recognised her husband.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨Marguerite’s breath stopped short; she seemed to feel her very life standing still momentarily whilst she listened to that voice and to that song. In the singer she had recognised her husband.¨

# data[].attributes.body
" Sir Andrew was right, that Percy would do everything he had set out to accomplish."

"She had made a solemn promise to Sir Andrew not to speak to her husband before strangers, and she had sufficient self-control not to throw herself unreasoningly and impulsively across his plans."

"Sir Andrew had said to her; and as she looked at the forehead, low, but square and broad, the eyes, blue, yet deep-set and intense, the whole aspect of the man, of indomitable energy, hiding, behind a perfectly acted comedy, his almost superhuman strength of will and marvellous ingenuity, she understood the fascination which he exercised over his followers, for had he not also cast his spells over her heart and her imagination?"

"“Sir Andrew!” she gasped.

Indeed, she had wholly forgotten the devoted friend and companion, who had trusted and stood by her during all these hours of anxiety and suffering."

"In the meanwhile Sir Andrew Ffoulkes had cautiously worked his way down the cliffs: he stopped once or twice, pausing to listen for the whispered words, which would guide him to Blakeney’s hiding-place."

"But it is on record that at the brilliant wedding of Sir Andrew Ffoulkes, Bart., with Mlle."

# data[].attributes.body
¨ Chauvelin had ordered them on pain of death not to stir until the tall Englishman came. Desgas had thrown me down in a heap quite ¨

¨ Chauvelin meant to stick to me like a leech, I thought the best thing I could do, as I could not shake him off, was to take him along with me. I had to get to Armand and the others somehow, and all the roads were patrolled, and everyone on the look-out for your humble servant. ¨

¨Chauvelin had partially recovered; his sneezing had become less violent, and he had struggled to his feet. He managed to reach the door just as Desgas’ knock was heard on the outside.¨

¨Marguerite’s breath stopped short; she seemed to feel her very life standing still momentarily whilst she listened to that voice and to that song. In the singer she had recognised her husband.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨“One of you stop that woman screaming,” hissed Chauvelin, who hardly could refrain from striking her.¨

¨Chauvelin, who was prepared for a violent onslaught from within, and for a vigorous resistance from the four fugitives, under cover of the darkness, was for the moment paralyzed with astonishment when he saw the soldiers standing there at attention.¨

¨Chauvelin seemed still quite speechless with rage.¨

¨was agreed between us, that if we overtook my friend the tall stranger, before he reached this place, you were to have ten pieces of gold.”...
you did not fulfil your share of the bargain, but I am ready to fulfil mine. Here,” he added, turning to the soldiers, “the buckle-end of your two belts to this confounded Jew.” As the soldiers obediently unbuckled their heavy leather belts, the Jew set up a howl.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨Chauvelin close to her ear, “I think it right to give you one small word of warning. What has procured me the honour of being followed across the Channel by so charming a companion.¨

¨the handkerchief was wound very tightly round her mouth, but Chauvelin was peering through the darkness very closely into her face; no doubt too her hand gave a responsive appeal.¨

¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨Chauvelin, on ahead, jolted and jostled in the Jew’s vehicle, was nursing comfortable thoughts.¨

¨“Every stranger on these roads or on the beach must be shadowed, especially if he be tall or stoops as if he would disguise his height; when sighted a mounted messenger must at once ride back and report.” Those had been Chauvelin’s orders.¨

¨The two men presently went into the hut,” continued the soldier, whilst Marguerite’s aching nerves seemed to catch the sound of Chauvelin’s triumphant chuckle, “and I crept nearer to it then. The hut is very roughly built, and I caught snatches of their conversation.”¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨Chauvelin was still absolutely helpless, far more so than he could even have been under a blow from the fist, for now he could neither see, nor hear, nor speak, whilst his cunning adversary had quietly slipped through his fingers.¨

¨Chauvelin was helpless; for the moment the daring Scarlet Pimpernel had not been caught by Desgas and his men. But all the roads and the beach were patrolled. ¨

¨Chauvelin had partially recovered; his sneezing had become less violent, and he had struggled to his feet. He managed to reach the door just as Desgas’ knock was heard on the outside.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨Chauvelin, with a weird chuckle, as he rubbed his bony, talon-like hands one against the other, with a gesture of fiendish satisfaction. “The tall stranger may show fight. In any case no shooting, remember, except as a last resort. I want that tall stranger alive . . . if possible.”¨

¨Chauvelin who exhibited a slight touch of fear.¨

¨he 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 well in capturing the Scarlet Pimpernel, when not directed by the cunning hand and the shrewd brain, which had deadly hate for an incentive.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨Chauvelin himself was on his track. After having cautioned him, she would perforce have to see him go off upon his terrible and daring mission.¨

# data[].attributes.body
"he replied humbly.

“It does not please me to hear your voice, but it does please me to give you certain orders, which you will find it wise to obey.”

“So it please your Honour . . .”"

"“A tall Englishman had a long conversation about three-quarters of an hour ago with a Jew, Reuben by name, who lives not ten paces from here.”"

"About five minutes later, Desgas returned, followed by an elderly Jew, in a dirty, threadbare gaberdine, worn greasy across the shoulders. His red hair, which he wore after the fashion of the Polish Jews, with the corkscrew curls each side of his face, was plentifully sprinkled with grey—a general coating of grime, about his cheeks and his chin, gave him a peculiarly dirty and loathsome appearance. He had the habitual stoop, those of his race affected in mock humility in past centuries, before the dawn of equality and freedom in matters of faith, and he walked behind Desgas with the peculiar shuffling gait which has remained the characteristic of the Jew trader in continental Europe to this day."

# data[].attributes.body
"Sir Andrew Ffoulkes is a noble English gentleman; he has money and position, the Comtesse will not refuse her consent. . . . But . . . now, little one . . . tell me . . . what is the latest news about your father?”"

"It was a letter written by Armand St. Just to Sir Andrew Ffoulkes—the letter which Chauvelin’s spies had stolen at “The Fisherman’s Rest,” and which Chauvelin had held as a rod over her to enforce her obedience."

" Sir Andrew Ffoulkes first; he was Percy’s best friend, and Marguerite remembered with a thrill, with what blind enthusiasm the young man always spoke of his mysterious leader."

"Sir Andrew, completely taken by surprise, had grown very pale, and was quite incapable of making the slightest attempt at clever parrying."

"If you will not help me, Sir Andrew, I would still strive to save my husband."

"With Sir Andrew Ffoulkes as her companion and ally, hope had once again revived in her heart."

" Sir Andrew—who would have to provide himself with clothes befitting a lacquey—could not possibly reach Dover for at least a couple of hours. "

"Marguerite could see that Sir Andrew was just as anxious as she was to reach his comrade and friend. This enforced inactivity was terrible to them both."

"Sir Andrew knocked again, this time more peremptorily: more oaths were heard, and then shuffling steps seemed to draw near the door."

"“Confound the brute!” said Sir Andrew, with native British wrath, as Brogard leant up against the table, smoking and looking down superciliously at these two sacrrrés Anglais."

"There was but one hour—the hour’s start which Marguerite and Sir Andrew had of their enemy."

"Sir Andrew obeyed her without further comment."

# data[].attributes.body
"The arrival of Lady Blakeney in the middle of the night caused a considerable flutter at “The Fisherman’s Rest.” Sally jumped hastily out of bed, and Mr. Jellyband was at great pains how to make his important guest comfortable."
"Mr. Jellyband hastily relit the lamp, rekindled a cheerful bit of fire in the great hearth, and then wheeled a comfortable chair by it, into which Marguerite gratefully sank.

“Will your ladyship stay the."

"honest Jellyband, whose rubicund face was set in its tightest folds, lest it should betray."

"Mr. Jellyband had gone to see to her coachman and men, and then had returned and taken up a position under the porch outside, just where Marguerite had first met Chauvelin about a week ago. "

"r. Jellyband, that, for the first time since many hours, a little smile began playing round the corners of her childlike mouth."

"She handed two or three gold pieces to Jellyband, who took them respectfully, and with becoming gratitude."

"Sir Andrew had no doubt guessed the many conflicting doubts and fears which raged in honest Jellyband’s head."

# data[].attributes.body
¨Chauvelin was close upon his heels; here in Calais, the astute diplomatist was all-powerful; a word from him and Percy could be tracked and arrested and . . .Chauvelin had sworn to bring the Scarlet Pimpernel to the guillotine, and now the daring plotter.¨

¨Chauvelin has realised that we have slipped through his fingers.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨Chauvelin had spies all along the route, who might overhear her questions, then outdistance her and warn her enemy of her approach.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨if Chauvelin succeeded in trapping him, who so far was unaware of his danger, then his death would be at her door. His death!¨

# data[].attributes.body
"Brogard was slowly pursuing his gruesome preparations; he had placed a couple of spoons, also two glasses on the table, both of which Sir Andrew took the precaution of wiping carefully."

# data[].attributes.body
"As for the stranger, the hero . . . well! there, let Fate decide. Marguerite would redeem her brother’s life at the hands of the relentless enemy, then let that cunning Scarlet Pimpernel extricate himself after that."

"the man whose energy has outdone me, whose ingenuity has baffled me, whose audacity has set me wondering—yes! me!—who have seen a trick or two in my time—the mysterious and elusive Scarlet Pimpernel.”"

" I promise you that the day the Scarlet Pimpernel and I start for France, I will send you that imprudent letter of his by special courier."

"the Scarlet Pimpernel, the mysterious leader, who to Marguerite had become almost unreal, so strange, so weird was this hidden identity."

"He had failed to discover the identity of the Scarlet Pimpernel."

# data[].attributes.body
¨ He had failed to discover the identity of the Scarlet Pimpernel, of that she felt sure. Both Lord Fancourt and Chauvelin himself...Chauvelin’s trap; his death.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨She had been longing to be rid of him, for she hoped that, like the fox he so resembled, Chauvelin would be prowling round, thinking to find her alone.¨

¨“You are torturing me, Chauvelin. I have helped you to-night . . . surely I have the right to know. What happened in the dining-room at one o’clock just now?”¨

¨But Chauvelin remained urbane, sarcastic, mysterious; not a line betrayed to the poor, anxious woman whether she need fear or whether she dared to hope.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨Marguerite had not even tried to see Chauvelin during this last hour; she knew that his keen, fox-like eyes would terrify her at once, and incline the balance of her decision towards Armand.¨

# data[].attributes.body
"It was strange that through all her troubles, all her anxiety for Armand, she was mostly conscious at the present moment of a keen and bitter heartache."

"On Armand’s behalf, he had said. Well! Sir Percy had influential friends everywhere. Perhaps he was going to Greenwich, or . . . but Marguerite ceased to conjecture; all would be explained anon: he said that he would come back, and that he would remember."

# data[].attributes.body
"Armand, too, was noble and brave, Armand, too, was unsuspecting. And Armand loved her, would have willingly trusted his life in her hands."

"But Armand must be saved at any cost; he, first of all, for he was her brother, had been mother, father, friend to her ever since she, a tiny babe, had lost both her parents."

"Armand always near her to love and protect her, to guard her from the many subtle intrigues which were forever raging in Paris in those days."

"“Percy!—Armand is in deadly danger. A letter of his . . . rash, impetuous, as were all his actions, and written to Sir Andrew Ffoulkes, has fallen into the hands of a fanatic. Armand is hopelessly compromised . . . to-morrow, perhaps he will be arrested . . ."

# data[].attributes.body
" Lord Grenville, moreover, had a most perfect cook—some wags asserted that he was a scion of the old French noblesse, who, having lost his fortune, had come to seek it in the cuisine of the Foreign Office."

"The Minister only took final leave of beautiful Lady Blakeney on the top of the stairs; below, on the landing, a veritable army of gallant gentlemen."

"He gorgeous white costume he had worn at Lord Grenville’s ball, with its jabot of priceless lace, looked strangely ghostly against the dark background of the house."

"Lord Grenville's ball."

# data[].attributes.body
¨bloodthirsty ruffian.¨

Opposed of the republic

He is judgemental and outspoken

He criticises Lady Blakeney when she was talking about her accidently killing people when she was young.

# data[].attributes.body
He knows about Percy's identity.

..ball is considered “the most brilliant function of the year” in London, and even the Prince of Wales is expected to attend.¨

He is proper and secretive too.

# data[].attributes.body
"beyond trying to do mischief to royalist refugees—to our heroic Scarlet Pimpernel and to the members of that brave little league.”"

"or the escape of a batch of French aristocrats—that traitor de Tournay amongst others—all organised by that arch-meddler, the Scarlet Pimpernel."

"“Bah! man. Have I not already told you that I care nought about your schemes or about the Scarlet Pimpernel. "

"Small wonder, therefore, that the romantic and mysterious personality of the Scarlet Pimpernel was a source of bitter hatred to Chauvelin. "

"“I was a leetle boy then . . . and now I owe the honour of this meeting to our protector, the Scarlet Pimpernel.""

"Vaguely she began to wonder, as she looked at the brilliant and fashionable crowd in the gaily-lighted ball-room, which of these worldly men round her was the mysterious “Scarlet Pimpernel,” who held the threads of such daring plots, and the fate of valuable lives in his hands."

# data[].attributes.body
¨From Chauvelin she knew that she could expect no mercy. He had set a price upon Armand’s head, and left it to her to pay or not, as she chose.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨But Chauvelin was not the man to trouble himself about these social amenities, which he called mere incidents in his diplomatic career. He was blindly enthusiastic for the revolutionary cause, he despised all social inequalities, and he had a burning love for his own country: these three sentiments made him supremely indifferent to the snubs he received in this fog-ridden, loyalist, old-fashioned England.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨Chauvelin had sat all through this entr’acte, with his eternal snuff-box in his hand, and with his keen pale eyes intently fixed upon a box opposite to him.¨

¨Chauvelin watched her intently.¨

# data[].attributes.body
"Here is Madame la Comtesse de Tournay positively dying to hear the latest news from France.”"

"Comtesse de Tournay, remained unspoken, for the curtain had just risen on the third act of Orpheus, and admonishments to silence came from every part of the house."

" It was Sir Andrew Ffoulkes who escorted the Comtesse de Tournay and her children across the Channel."

"
“Madame la Comtesse de Tournay de Basserive and her family, who have but recently come from France.”"

"The Comtesse de Tournay, who lately had so flagrantly insulted her, was here receiving a public lesson, at which Marguerite could not help but rejoice."

# data[].attributes.body
"Had Armand been imprudent? . . . The very thought struck her with nameless terror. Still she would not let this man see that she feared; she laughed gaily and lightly."

"and horror of the awful service which Chauvelin had exacted from her, in exchange for Armand’s safety."

" He had set a price upon Armand’s head, and left it to her to pay or not, as she chose."

"She had forgotten everything else—her rank, her dignity, her secret enthusiasms—everything save that Armand stood in peril of his life."

# data[].attributes.body
"“Because the Scarlet Pimpernel works in the dark, and his identity is only known under a solemn oath of secrecy to his immediate followers.”"

" “I have heard speak of this Scarlet Pimpernel. A little flower—red?—yes! They say in Paris that every time a royalist escapes to England that devil, Foucquier-Tinville, the Public Prosecutor, receives a paper with that little flower dessinated in red upon it. . . . Yes?”"

# data[].attributes.body
" Armand—but that awful Paris . . . just now . . .”"

"I have the satisfaction, Armand, of knowing that the biggest fool in England has the most complete contempt for his wife.”"

"who knew Armand well, who could talk of all the merry, brilliant friends whom she had left behind."

"Armand—moderate republican as he was—might become one day the holocaust."

"He opened one or two more letters from Sir Andrew Ffoulkes’ pocket-book, noted the tiny scrap of paper which the two young men had only just had time to read; but one letter specially, signed Armand St. Just, seemed to give him strange satisfaction.

“Armand St. Just a traitor after all,” he murmured."

# data[].attributes.body
"Alone among those present Marguerite Blakeney and the Comtesse de Tournay had remained seemingly unmoved. The latter, rigid, erect and defiant, with one hand still upon her daughter’s arm."

# data[].attributes.body
"Sir Andrew Ffoulkes and Lord Antony Dewhurst, two typical good-looking, well-born and well-bred Englishmen of that year of grace 1792, and the aristocratic French comtesse with her two children, who had just escaped from such dire perils, and found a safe retreat at last on the shores of protecting England."

"Sir Andrew Ffoulkes, “trust in God by all means, but believe also a little in your English friends, who have sworn to bring the Count safely across the Channel, even as they have brought you to-day.”"

"Sir Andrew watched the little scene with eager apprehension. English though they were, they had often been in France, and had mixed sufficiently with the French."

"It would have been bad form to protest. Both Lord Antony and Sir Andrew felt that Lady Blakeney could not altogether be in tune with them at that moment."

# data[].attributes.body
¨Chauvelin, who is said to be terribly bitter against our league, and determined to discover the identity of our leader, so that he may have him kidnapped, the next time he attempts to set foot in France.¨

¨Chauvelin has brought a whole army of spies with him, and until the chief has sampled the lot.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨“Himself, citoyenne, at your service,” said the stranger, gallantly kissing the tips of her fingers.¨

¨“what in the world, or whom in the world, are you doing here in England?” She had resumed her walk towards the inn, and Chauvelin turned and walked beside her.¨

¨his shrewd, pale, yellow eyes fixed on the pretty face, which looked so sweet and childlike in this soft English summer twilight.¨

¨“Ah! . . . that idyllic folly,” said Chauvelin, with quiet sarcasm.¨

¨Chauvelin, whilst once again his eyes, keen as those of a fox on the alert, darted a quick glance at Marguerite. “I have a most perfect prescription against the worst form of ennui, which I would have been happy to submit to you, but.”¨

# data[].attributes.body
"Mademoiselle Suzanne and my friend the Vicomte safely in England now, surely you must feel reassured as to the fate of Monsieur le Comte.”

"Suzanne ran up to her and tried to kiss away her tears."

"He had spoken with so much warmth and vehemence that Suzanne’s eyes fastened upon him in undisguised wonder."

"Suzanne’s eyes as she sought those of Sir Andrew plainly told him that she thought that he at any rate rescued his fellow-men from terrible and unmerited death, through a higher and nobler motive than his friend would have her believe."

"“and we came over to England together to learn your language. I was very fond of Marguerite, and I cannot believe that she ever did anything so wicked.”"

"Suzanne looked sad and silent; Sir Andrew fidgeted uneasily with his fork, whilst the Comtesse, encased in the plate-armour of her aristocratic prejudices, sat, rigid and unbending."

"Suzanne reluctantly was preparing to follow her mother, whilst casting regretful glances towards the door, where she hoped still to see her dearly-beloved, erstwhile school-fellow."

"“Suzanne, I forbid you to speak to that woman,” said the Comtesse, sternly, as she placed a restraining hand upon her daughter’s arm.

She had spoken in English, so that all might hear and understand;."

"“and I am at liberty to forbid my daughter to touch your hand in friendship. Come, Suzanne.”"

"Suzanne’s sweet and dainty impulse had relieved the unpleasant tension."

# data[].attributes.body
"Vicomte de Tournay rose, glass in hand, and with the graceful affectation peculiar to the times, he raised it aloft, and said in broken English,—

“To His Majesty George Three of England. God bless him for his hospitality to us all, poor exiles from France.”"

" “I have heard speak of this Scarlet Pimpernel. A little flower—red?—yes! They say in Paris that every time a royalist escapes to England that devil, Foucquier-Tinville, the Public Prosecutor, receives a paper with that little flower dessinated in red upon it. . . . Yes?”
“Yes, that is so,” assented Lord Antony.
“Then he will have received one such paper to-day?”"

"“The women even, in France, have been more bitter against us aristocrats than the men,” said the Vicomte."

" somewhat abashed at the way his warlike attitude had been taken by the ponderous-looking Englishman."

"Now the Vicomte had no doubt vaguely heard that in England the fashion of duelling amongst gentlemen had been suppressed by the law with a very stern hand;."

# data[].attributes.body
"set in gems and enamel in her hair? What was there strange in the fact that Sir Percy should have chosen to use the device as a seal-ring? ."

"He had gone to Calais, had been in London this morning . . . he . . . the Scarlet Pimpernel . . . Percy Blakeney . . . her husband . . . whom she had betrayed last night to Chauvelin. . . ."

"Even last night when Chauvelin went to Lord Grenville’s dining-room to seek that daring Scarlet Pimpernel, he only saw that inane Sir Percy Blakeney fast asleep in a corner of the sofa."

"How could she imagine that a man who could love with so much intensity as Percy Blakeney had loved her from the first—how could such a man be the brainless idiot he chose to appear? "

" Percy, the husband whom she loved with all the ardour which her admiration for his bravery had kindled, was in immediate, deadly peril, through her hand."

"“Percy will arrive at his destination: unconscious of being followed he will seek out de Tournay and the others—among these is Armand St. Just, my brother."

" I will gladly accept your escort to Calais . . . as you say, I might miss Sir Percy were you to direct me ever so carefully. "

"Nature herself was playing her a horrible, cruel trick. Percy was in danger, and she could not go to him, because the wind happened to blow from the coast of France."

# data[].attributes.body
¨He had gone to Calais, had been in London this morning . . . he . . . the Scarlet Pimpernel . . . Percy Blakeney . . . her husband . . . whom she had betrayed last night to Chauvelin.¨

¨Chauvelin’s spies had failed to detect, in the apparently brainless nincompoop, the man whose reckless daring and resourceful ingenuity had baffled the keenest French spies, both in France and in England. ¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨ Lady Blakeney, whilst the clothes Sir Percy Blakeney wore were the talk of the jeunesse dorée of London for many days.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨dazzled London society with her beauty, her wit and her extravagances, presented a very pathetic picture of tired-out, suffering womanhood, which would have appealed to any, but the hard, vengeful heart of her baffled enemy”.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨Both these good folk were far too well drilled in the manners appertaining to innkeepers, to exhibit the slightest surprise at Lady Blakeney’s arrival, alone, at this extraordinary hour.¨

¨“I am afraid it is not a question of cost¨ said Lady Blakeney.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨trying to recover himself, “I . . .” “Will you hear me first?” she interrupted. “This is how the matter stands.¨

¨ I wish you to trust me absolutely. But I had no idea—how could I have?—of the identity of the Scarlet Pimpernel . . . and my brother’s safety was to be my prize if I succeeded.”¨

¨“God knows you have perplexed me, so that I do not know which way my duty lies.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨she sank. This long interval of waiting was intolerable.¨

¨Lady Blakeney never stepped from any house into her coach, without an escort of fluttering human moths around the dazzling light of her beauty.¨

¨ eagerly attentive to Lady Blakeney’s every movement, hid the keen, fox-like face from her view.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨Lady Blakeney a most perfect listener.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨ beautiful Lady Blakeney leading the couples, through its delicate and intricate figures.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨be in sympathy with those ruffians in France; she may or may not have had anything to do with the arrest and condemnation of St. Cyr.¨

¨Lady Blakeney is always so surrounded.¨

¨He had gone to Calais, had been in London this morning . . . he . . . the Scarlet Pimpernel . . . Percy Blakeney . . . her husband . . . whom she had betrayed last night to Chauvelin.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨the pivot of social London, so I am told . . . you see everything, you hear everything.”¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨Marguerite’s youth, her impulses and imprudence, knew it still better; but Blakeney was slow-witted, he would not listen to “circumstances,”.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨she bobbed him a quaint and pretty curtsey.¨

¨could not altogether be in tune with them at that moment. Her love for her brother, Armand St. Just, was deep and touching in the extreme.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨impatience, “what are you standing in my way for, dancing about like a turkey with a sore foot? Let me get to the fire, I am perished with the cold.”¨

# data[].attributes.body
the most fashionable woman in London—the wife of the richest man in England?

# data[].attributes.body
¨The Vicomte de Tournay was scarce nineteen, a beardless boy, on whom the terrible tragedies which were being enacted in his own country had made but little impression.¨

¨his temper was growing more and more violent under the Vicomte’s obvious admiration.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨she had lost count of time and of place whilst she had stood beside the fire, allowing the handsome young Englishman’s eyes to dwell upon her sweet face, and his hand, as if unconsciously, to rest upon hers.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨“The cart contained the ci-devant Comtesse de Tournay and her two children, all of them traitors and condemned to death.”¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨as for their leader, he was never spoken of, save with a superstitious shudder.¨

¨ people came to watch him at the West Gate, so as to be present when he laid hands on any fugitive aristo who perhaps might be accompanied by that mysterious Englishman.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨“but you are growing prettier and prettier every time I see you—and my honest friend, Jellyband here, must have hard work to keep the fellows off that slim waist of yours. What say you, Mr. Waite?”.¨

¨sons of the Duke of Exeter, was in those days a very perfect type of a young English gentleman—tall, well set-up, broad of shoulders and merry of face, his laughter rang loudly wherever he went.¨

¨“off with you, my pretty Sally, and see how quickly you can dish up the soup.”¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨was silent, yet those two young people understood one another, as young people have a way of doing all the world over, and have done since the world began.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨“friends of my Lord Tony himself. Dukes and duchesses from over the water yonder, whom the young lord and his friend, Sir Andrew.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨Jellyband came bustling forward, eager, alert and fussy.¨

¨“don’t you be afraid. I wouldn’t have spoken, only I knew we were among friends. That gentleman over there is as true and loyal a subject of King George as you are yourself, my lord, saving your presence. He is but lately arrived in Dover, and is settling down in business in these parts.”¨

¨Jellyband, still profuse with his respectful salutations, arranged one or two chairs around the fire.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨That Mr. Jellyband, landlord of “The Fisherman’s Rest” at Dover, was a prosperous man, was of course clear to the most casual observer.¨

¨worthy Jellyband discussed the affairs of nations with his most privileged guests¨

¨“And let ’em murder, says I, and be demmed to ’em,” said Mr. Hempseed, emphatically, for he had but little liking for his friend Jellyband’s political arguments.¨

# data[].attributes.body
¨“what be they all wanting now, I wonder! “Beer, of course,” grumbled Jemima.¨

“Your father is too busy discussing politics with Mr. ’Empseed to worry ’isself about you and the kitchen,” grumbled Jemima under her breath.

# data[].attributes.body
¨Bibot would let the unfortunate wretch walk about ten mètres towards the open country, then he would send two men after him and bring him back, stripped of his disguise.¨

¨Bibot would look at his prey as a cat looks upon the mouse, play with him, sometimes for quite a quarter of an hour, pretend to be hoodwinked by the disguise, by the wigs and other bits of theatrical make-up which hid the identity of a ci-devant noble marquise or count.¨

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Chapter 1:                           ¨The paper always contained a brief notice that the band of meddlesome Englishmen were at work, and it was always signed with a device drawn in red—a little star-shaped flower, which we in England call the Scarlet Pimpernel.¨        

# data[].attributes.subject
Chapter 1:                           ¨The paper always contained a brief notice that the band of meddlesome Englishmen were at work, and it was always signed with a device drawn in red—a little star-shaped flower, which we in England call the Scarlet Pimpernel.¨        

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Does what feels is right instead of what others would react like or how it would impact others.

# data[].attributes.subject
Does what feels is right instead of what others would react like or how it would impact others.