In the Opera Box (The Scarlet Pimpernel)

01X.

02In the Opera-Box.

03X.

04It was one of the gala nights at Covent Garden Theatre, the first of the autumn season in this memorable year of grace, 1792.

05The house was well packed, both in the smart orchestra-boxes and in the pit, as well as in the more plebeian balconies and galleries above.

06Gluck's Orpheus made a strong appeal to the more intellectual portions of the house, whilst the fashionable women, the gaily dressed and brilliant throng, spoke to the eye of those who cared but little for this latest importation from Germany.

07Selina Storis had been duly applauded after her grand aria by her numerous admirers.

08Benjamin Inkledon, the acknowledged favourite of the ladies, had received special gracious recognition from the royal box, and now the curtain came down after the glorious finale to the second act, and the audience, which had hung spellbound on the magic strains of the great maestro, seemed collectively to breathe a long sigh of satisfaction, previous to letting loose its hundreds of waggish and frivolous tongues.

09In the smart orchestra-boxes many well-known faces were to be seen.

10Mr.

11Pitt, overweighted with cares of state, was finding brief relaxation in tonight's musical treat.

12The Prince of Wales, jovial, rotund, somewhat coarse and commonplace in appearance, moved about from box to box, spending brief quarters of an hour with those of his more intimate friends.

13In Lord Grenville's box, too, a curious, interesting personality attracted every one's attention.

14A thin, small figure, with shrewd, sarcastic face and deep-set eyes, attentive to the music, keenly critical of the audience, dressed in immaculate black, with dark hair free from any powder.

15Lord Grenville, Foreign Secretary of State, paid him marked, though frigid, deference.

16Here and there, dotted about among distinctly English types of beauty, one or two foreign faces stood out in marked contrast.

17The haughty, aristocratic cast of countenance of the many French royalist emigres who, persecuted by the relentless revolutionary faction of their country, had found a peaceful refuge in England.

18On these faces, sorrow and care were deeply writ.

19The women especially paid but little heed, either to the music, or to the brilliant audience.

20No doubt their thoughts were far away with husband, brother, son, maybe, still in peril, or lately succumbed to a cruel fate.

21Among these, the Comtesse de Tournai de Basse-Rive, but lately arrived from France, was a most conspicuous figure.

22Dressed in deep, heavy black silk, with only a white lace handkerchief to relieve the aspect of mourning about her person, she sat beside Lady Portales, who was vainly trying, by witty sallies, in somewhat broad jokes, to bring a smile to the Comtesse's sad mouth.

23Behind her sat little Suzanne, and the Vicomtes, both silent and somewhat shy among so many strangers.

24Suzanne's eyes seemed wistful.

25When she first entered the crowded house, she had looked eagerly all around, scanning every face, scrutinized every box.

26Evidently, the one face she wished to see was not there, for she settled herself quietly behind her mother, listened apathetically to the music, and took no further interest in the audience itself.

27"'Ah!

28Lord Grenville,' said Lady Portales, as, following a discreet knock, the clever, interesting head of the Secretary of State, appeared in the doorway of the box.

29"'You could not arrive more à propos.

30Here is Madame la Comtesse de Tournai positively dying to hear the latest news from France.' The distinguished diplomat had come forward, and was shaking hands with the ladies.

31"'Alas!' he said sadly.

32"'It is of the very worst.

33The massacres continue.

34Paris literally reeks with blood, and the guillotine claims a hundred victims a day.' Pale and tearful, the comtesse was leaning back in her chair, listening horror-struck to this brief and graphic account of what went on in her own misguided country.

35"'Ah, monsieur,' she said in broken English, "'it is dreadful to hear all that, and my poor husband's still in that awful country.

36It is terrible for me to be sitting here, in a theatre, all safe and in peace, while he is in such peril.' "'Lud, madame,' said honest, bluff, Lady Portales, "'your sitting in a convent won't make your husband safe, and you have your children to consider.

37They are too young to be dosed with anxiety and premature mourning.' The comtesse smiled through her tears at the vehemence of her friend.

38Lady Portales, whose voice and manner would not have misfitted a jockey, had a heart of gold, and hid the most genuine sympathy and most gentle kindliness beneath the somewhat coarse manners affected by some ladies at that time.

39"'Besides which, madame,' added Lord Grenville, "'did you not tell me yesterday that the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel had pledged their honour to bring monsieur le comte safely across the channel?' "'Ah, yes,' replied the comtesse, "'and that is my only hope.

40I saw Lord Hastings yesterday.

41He reassured me again.' "'Then I am sure you need have no fear.

42What the League have sworn, that they will surely accomplish.' "'Ah,' added the old diplomat with a side, "'if I were but a few years younger—' "'La, man!' interrupted honest Lady Portales.

43"'You are still young enough to turn your back on that French scarecrow that sits enthroned in your box to-night.' "'I wish I could.

44But your ladyship must remember that in serving our country we must put prejudices aside.

45Monsieur Chauvelin is the accredited agent of his government.' "'Odd's fish, man!' she retorted.

46"'You don't call those bloodthirsty ruffians over there a government, do you?' "'It has not been thought advisable as yet,' said the minister, guardedly, "'for England to break off diplomatic relations with France, and we cannot therefore refuse to receive with courtesy the agents she wishes to send to us.' "'Diplomatic relations be damned, my lord!

47That sly little fox over there is nothing but a spy I'll warrant, and you'll find—and I'm much mistaken—that he'll concern himself little with such diplomacy beyond trying to do mischief to royalist refugees, to our heroic Scarlet Pimpernel, and to the members of that brave little league.' "'I am sure,' said the comtesse, pursing up her thin lips, "'that if this Chauvelin wishes to do us mischief he will find a faithful ally in Lady Blakeney.' "'Bless the woman!' ejaculated Lady Portiles.

48Did ever any one see such perversity?

49My lord Grenville, you have the gift of gab.

50Will you please explain to Madame la Comtesse that she is acting like a fool?' "'In your position here in England, Madame,' she added, turning a wrathful and resolute face toward the comtesse, "'you cannot afford to put on the hoity-toity airs you French aristocrats are so fond of.

51Lady Blakeney may or may not be in sympathy with those ruffians in France.

52She may or may not have had anything to do with the arrest and condemnation of Saint-Cyr, or whatever the man's name is, but she is the leader of fashion in this country.

53Sir Percy Blakeney has more money than any half-dozen other men put together.

54He is handing love with royalty, and your trying to snub Lady Blakeney will not harm her, but will make you look a fool.

55Isn't that so, my lord?' But what Lord Grenville thought of this matter, or to what reflections this comely tirade of Lady Portiles led the Comtesse de Tournai, 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.

56Lord Grenville took a hasty farewell of the ladies, and slipped back into his box, where M.

57Chauvelin had sat through this entracte, with his eternal snuff-box in his hand, and with his keen pale eyes intently fixed upon a box opposite him, where, with much frou-frou of silken skirts, much laughter and general stare of curiosity amongst the audience, Marguerite Blakeney had just entered, accompanied by her husband, and looking divinely pretty beneath the wealth of her golden reddish curls, slightly besprinkled with powder, and tied back at the nape of her graceful neck with a gigantic black bow.

58Always dressed in the very latest vagary of fashion, Marguerite alone among the ladies that night had discarded the crossover fichu and broad lapelled overdress, which had been in fashion for the last two or three years.

59She wore the short-waisted classical-shaped gown, which so soon was to become the approved mode in every country in Europe.

60It suited her graceful regal figure to perfection, composed as it was of shimmering stuff which seemed a mass of rich gold embroidery.

61As she entered, she leant for a moment out of the box, taking stock of all those present whom she knew.

62Many bowed to her as she did so, and from the royal box there came also a quick and gracious salute.

63Chauvelin watched her intently all through the commencement of the third act, as she sat enthralled with the music, her exquisite little hand toying with a small jewelled fan, her regal head, her throat, arms and neck, covered with magnificent diamonds and rare gems, the gift of the adoring husband who sprawled leisurely by her side.

64Marguerite was passionately fond of music.

65Orpheus charmed her to-night.

66The very joy of living was writ plainly upon the sweet young face.

67It sparkled out of the merry blue eyes and lit up the smile that lurked around the lips.

68She was, after all, but five-and-twenty, in the heyday of youth, the darling of a brilliant throng, adored, fated, petted, cherished.

69Two days ago the daydream had returned from Calais, bringing her news that her idolized brother had safely landed, that he thought of her, and would be prudent for her sake.

70What wonder for the moment, and listening to Gluck's impassioned strains, that she forgot her disillusionments, forgot her vanished love-dreams, forgot even the lazy, good-humoured non-entity who had made up for his lack of spiritual attainments by lavishing worldly advantages upon her.

71He had stayed beside her in the box just as long as convention demanded, making way for His Royal Highness, and for the host of admirers who, in a continued procession, came to pay homage to the Queen of Fashion.

72Sir Percy had strolled away, to talk to more congenial friends, probably.

73Marguerite did not even wonder whither he had gone.

74She cared so little.

75She had had a little court round her, composed of the Jeunesse Dorée of London, and had just dismissed them all, wishing to be alone with Gluck for a brief while.

76A discreet knock at the door roused her from her enjoyment.

77"'Come in,' she said with some impatience, without turning to look at the intruder.

78Chauvelin, waiting for his opportunity, noted that she was alone, and now, without pausing for that impatient to come in, he quietly slipped into the box, and the next moment was standing behind Marguerite's chair.

79"'A word with you, citoyenne,' he said quietly.

80Marguerite turned quickly, an alarm which was not altogether feigned.

81"'Ludman, you frightened me,' she said, with a forced little laugh.

82"'Your presence is entirely inopportune.

83I want to listen to Gluck, and have no mind for talking.' "'But this is my only opportunity,' he said, as, quietly, and without waiting for permission, he drew a chair close behind her, so close that he could whisper in her ear without disturbing the audience, and without being seen in the dark background of the box.

84"'This is my only opportunity,' he repeated, as she vouchsafed him no reply.

85"'Lady Blakeney is always so surrounded, so fated by her court, that a mere old friend has but very little chance.

86"'Faith, man,' she said impatiently, "'you must seek for another opportunity, then.

87I am going to Lord Grenville's Ball to-night, after the opera.

88So are you, probably.

89I'll give you five minutes then.' "'Three minutes, in the privacy of this box, are quite sufficient for me,' he rejoined placidly.

90"'And I think that you will be wise to listen to me, citoyen sans juste.' Marguerite instinctively shivered.

91Chauvelin had not raised his voice above a whisper.

92He was now quietly taking a pinch of snuff.

93Yet there was something in his attitude—something in those pale, foxy eyes, which seemed to freeze the blood in her veins, as would the sight of some deadly, hitherto unguessed peril.

94"'Is that a threat, citoyen?' she asked at last.

95"'Nay, fair lady,' he said gallantly.

96Only an arrow shot into the air.

97He paused a moment, like a cat which sees a mouse running heedlessly by, ready to spring, yet waiting with that feline sense of enjoyment of mischief about to be done.

98Then he said quietly, "'Your brother, sans juste, is in peril.' Not a muscle moved in the beautiful face before him.

99He could only see it in profile, for Marguerite seemed to be watching the stage intently.

100But Chauvelin was a keen observer.

101He noticed the sudden rigidity of the eyes, the hardening of the mouth, the sharp, almost paralysed tension of the beautiful, graceful figure.

102"'Lad, then,' she said, with affected merriment, "'since tis one of your imaginary plots, you'd best go back to your own seat and leave me enjoy the music.' And with her hand she began to beat time nervously against the cushion of the box.

103Selina Storris was singing the guffaro to an audience that hung spellbound upon the prima donna's lips.

104Chauvelin did not move from his seat.

105He quietly watched that tiny, nervous hand, the only indication that his shaft had indeed struck home.

106"'Well,' she said suddenly and irrelevantly, and with the same feigned unconcern, "'Well, citoyenne,' he rejoined placidly, "'about my brother?' "'I have news of him for you, which I think will interest you.

107But first let me explain.

108May I?' The question was unnecessary.

109He felt, though Marguerite still held her head steadily averted from him, that her every nerve was strained to hear what he had to say.

110"'The other day, citoyenne,' he said, "'I asked for your help.

111France needed it, and I thought I could rely on you, but you gave me your answer.

112Since 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, citoyenne,' she said lightly, "'the music is entrancing, and the audience will get impatient of your talk.

113One moment, citoyenne.' The day on which I had the honour of meeting you at Dover, and less than an hour after I had your final answer, I obtained possession of some papers, which revealed another of those subtle schemes for the escape of a batch of French aristocrats, that traitor de Tournai, amongst others, all organised by that arch-meddler, the Scarlet Pimpernel.

114"'Some of the threads, too, of this mysterious organisation have come into my hands, but not all.

115And I want you—nay, you must help me to gather them together.' Marguerite seemed to have listened to him with marked impatience.

116She now shrugged her shoulders and said gaily, "'Bah, man!

117have I not already told you that I care not about your schemes or about the Scarlet Pimpernel?

118And had you not spoken about my brother—' "'A little patience, I entreat, citoyenne,' he continued imperturbably, "'two gentlemen—Lord Anthony Dewhurst and Sir Andrew Foulkes—were at the Fisherman's Rest at Dover that same night.

119I know, I saw them there.

120They were already known to my spies as members of that accursed league.

121It were Sir Andrew Foulkes who escorted the Comtesse de Tournai and her children across the channel.

122When the two young men were alone, my spies, forced their way into the coffee-room of the inn, gagged and pinioned the two gallants, seized their papers, and brought them to me.

123In a moment she had guessed the danger.

124Papers!

125Had Armand been imprudent?

126The very thought struck her with nameless terror.

127Still, she would not let this man see that she feared.

128She laughed gaily and lightly.

129"'Faith!

130And your impudence passes belief,' she said merrily.

131"'Robbery and violence!

132In England!

133In a crowded inn!

134Your men might have been caught in the act.' "'What have they had?' "'They are children of France, and they have been trained by your humble servant.

135Had they been caught, they would have gone to jail, or even to the gallows, without a word of protest or indiscretion.

136At any rate, it was well worth the risk.

137A crowded inn is safer for those little operations than you think, and my men have experience.' "'Well?' "'And those papers?' she asked carelessly.

138"'Unfortunately, though they have given me cognisance of certain names—certain movements—enough, I think, to thwart their projected coup for the moment.

139It would only be for the moment, and still leaves me in ignorance of the identity of the scarlet pimpernel.' "'La, my friend,' she said, with the same assumed flippancy of manner, "'then you are where you were before, aren't you?

140And you can let me enjoy the last trough of the aria.' "'Faith!' she added, ostentatiously smothering an imaginary yawn.

141"'Had you not spoken about my brother?' "'I am coming to him now, citoyenne.' "'Among the papers there was a letter to Sir Andrew Foulkes, written by your brother Saint-Just.' "'Well?' "'And?' "'That letter shows him to be not only in sympathy with the enemies of France, but actually a helper, if not a member, of the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel.' The blow had been struck at last.

142All along Marguerite had been expecting it.

143She would not show fear.

144She was determined to seem unconcerned, flippant even.

145She wished, when the shock came, to be prepared for it, to have all her wits about her—those wits which had been nicknamed the keenest in Europe.

146Even now she did not flinch.

147She knew that Chauvelin had spoken the truth.

148The man was too earnest, too blindly devoted to the misguided cause he had at heart, too proud of his countrymen, of those makers of revolutions, to stoop to low, purposeless falsehoods.

149That letter of Armand's—foolish, imprudent Armand—was in Chauvelin's hands.

150Marguerite knew that as if she had seen the letter with her own eyes, and Chauvelin would hold that letter for purposes of his own, until it suited him to destroy it, or to make use of it against Armand.

151All that she knew, and yet she continued to laugh more gaily, more loudly, than she had done before.

152La man!

153she said, speaking over her shoulder and looking him full and squarely in the face.

154Did I not say it was some imaginary plot?

155Armand in league with that enigmatic Scarlet Pimpernel?

156Armand busy helping those French aristocrats whom he despises?

157Faith, the tale does infinite credit to your imagination!

158Let me make my point clear, citoyenne, said Chauvelin, with the same unruffled calm.

159I must assure you that Saint-Just is compromised beyond the slightest hope of pardon.

160Outside the orchestra-box, all were silent for a moment or two.

161Marguerite sat, straight upright, rigid and inert, trying to think, trying to face the situation, to realise what had best be done.

162In the house, Storis had finished the aria, and was even now bowing in her classic garb, but in approved eighteenth-century fashion, to the enthusiastic audience who cheered her to the echo.

163Chauvelin, said Marguerite Blakeney at last, quietly, and without that touch of bravado which had characterised her attitude all along.

164Chauvelin, my friend, shall we try to understand one another?

165It seems that my wits have become rusty by contact with this damp climate.

166Now tell me.

167You are very anxious to discover the identity of the Scarlet Pimpernel, isn't that so?

168France's most bitter enemy, citoyenne.

169All the more dangerous as he works in the dark." "'All the more noble, you mean?' "'Well, and you would now force me to do some spying work for you in exchange for my brother Armand's safety, is that it?' "'Fie!

170Two very ugly words, fair lady,' protested Chauvelin, urbanely.

171"'There can be no question of force, and the service which I would ask of you in the name of France could never be called by the shocking name of spying.' "'At any rate, that is what it is called over here,' she said dryly.

172"'That is your intention, is it not?' "'My intention is that you yourself win the free pardon for Armand St.

173Juste by doing me a small service.' "'What is it?' "'Only watch for me to-night, citoyenne St.

174Juste,' he said eagerly.

175"'Listen!

176Among the papers which were found about the person of Sir Andrew Foulkes, there was a tiny note.

177See?' He added, taking a tiny scrap of paper from his pocket-book and handing it to her.

178It was the same scrap of paper which, four days ago, the two young men had been in the act of reading at the very moment when they were attacked by Chauvelin's minions.

179Marguerite took it mechanically and stooped to read it.

180There were only two lines, written in a distorted, evidently disguised handwriting.

181She read them half aloud.

182"'Remember we must not meet more often than is strictly necessary.

183You have all instructions for the second.

184If you wish to speak to me again, I shall be at G's Ball.' "'What does it mean?' she asked.

185"'Look again, citoyenne, and you will understand.' "'There is a device here in the corner.

186A small red flower.' "'Yes?' "'The scarlet pimpernel,' she said eagerly.

187"'And G's Ball means Grenville's Ball.

188He will be at my Lord Grenville's Ball to-night.' "'That is how I interpret the note,' citoyenne concluded Chauvelin blandly.

189"'Lord Anthony Dewhurst and Sir Andrew Foulkes, after they were pinioned and searched by my spies, were carried by my orders to a lonely house in the Dover Road, which I had rented for the purpose.

190There they remained close prisoners until this morning.

191But, having found this tiny scrap of paper, my intention was that they should be in London, in time to attend my Lord Grenville's Ball.

192You see, do you not, that they must have a great deal to say to their chief, and thus they will have an opportunity of speaking to him to-night, just as he directed them to do.

193Therefore, this morning, those two young gallants found every bar and bolt open in that lonely house on the Dover Road, their jailers disappeared, and two good horses standing ready saddled and tethered in the yard.

194I have not seen them yet, but I think we may safely conclude that they did not draw rein until they reached London.

195Now you see how simple it all is, citoyenne.' "'It does seem simple, doesn't it?' she said, with a final bitter attempt at flippancy.

196"'When you want to kill a chicken, you take hold of it, then you wring its neck.

197It's only the chicken who does not find it quite so simple.

198Now you hold a knife at my throat, and a hostage for my obedience.

199You find it simple.

200I don't.' "'Nay, citoyenne, I offer you a chance of saving the brother you love from the consequences of his own folly.' Marguerite's face softened.

201Her eyes at last grew moist as she murmured half to herself, the only being in the world who has loved me truly and constantly.

202"'But what do you want me to do, Chauvelin?' she said, with a world of despair in her tear-choked voice.

203"'In my present position it is well-nigh impossible.' "'Nay, citoyenne,' he said dryly and relentlessly, not heeding that despairing childlike appeal, which might have melted a heart of stone.

204"'As Lady Blakeney, no one suspects you.

205And with your help to-night, I may—who knows—succeed in finally establishing the identity of the scarlet pimpernel.

206You are going to the ball anon.

207Watch for me there.

208Watch and listen.

209You can tell me if you hear a chance word or whisper.

210You can note every one to whom Sir Andrew Foulkes or Lord Anthony Dewhurst will speak.

211You are absolutely beyond suspicion now.

212The scarlet pimpernel will be at Lord Grenville's ball to-night.

213Find out who he is, and I will pledge the word of France that your brother shall be safe.' Chauvelin was putting the knife to her throat.

214Marguerite felt herself entangled in one of those webs from which she could hope for no escape.

215A precious hostage was being held for her obedience, for she knew that this man would never make an empty threat.

216No doubt Armand was already signalled to the Committee of Public Safety as one of the suspect.

217He would not be allowed to leave France again, and would be ruthlessly struck if she refused to obey Chauvelin.

218For a moment, womanlike, she still hoped to temporise.

219She held out her hand to this man, whom she now feared and hated.

220"'If I promise to help you in this matter, Chauvelin,' she said pleasantly, "'will you give me that letter of Saint-Just's?' "'If you render me useful service to-night, citoyenne,' he replied with a sarcastic smile, "'I will give you that letter—to-morrow.' "'You do not trust me?' "'I trust you absolutely, dear lady.

221But Saint-Just's life is forfeit to his country.

222It rests with you to redeem it.' "'I may be powerless to help you,' she pleaded.

223"'Were I ever so willing.' "'That would be terrible, indeed,' he said quietly.

224"'For you and for Saint-Just.' Marguerite shuddered.

225She felt that from this man she could expect no mercy.

226All-powerful, he held the beloved life in the hollow of his hand.

227She knew him too well not to know that, if he failed in gaining his own ends, he would be pitiless.

228She felt cold in spite of the oppressive air of the opera-house.

229The heart-appealing strains of the music seemed to reach her, as from a distant land.

230She drew her costly lace scarf up around her shoulders, and sat silently, watching the brilliant scene, as if in a dream.

231For a moment her thoughts wandered away from the loved one who was in danger, to that other man, who also had a claim on her confidence and her affection.

232She felt lonely, frightened for our man's sake.

233She longed to seek comfort and advice from someone who would know how to help and console.

234Sir Percy Blakeney had loved her once.

235He was her husband.

236Why should she stand alone through this terrible ordeal?

237He had very little brains, it is true, but he had plenty of muscle.

238Surely, if she provided the thought, and he the manly energy and pluck, together they could outwit the astute diplomatist, and save the hostage from his vengeful hands without imperiling the life of the noble leader of that gallant little band of heroes.

239Sir Percy knew Saint-Just well.

240He seemed attached to him.

241She was sure that he could help.

242Chauvelin was taking no further heed of her.

243He had said his cruel either-or, and left her to decide.

244He, in his turn now, appeared to be absorbed in the soul-stirring melodies of Orpheus, and was beating time to the music with his sharp, ferret-like head.

245A discreet rap at the door roused Marguerite from her thoughts.

246It was Sir Percy Blakeney, tall, sleepy, good-humoured, and wearing that half-shy, half-inane smile, which just now seemed to irritate her every nerve.

247"'Er, your chair is outside, my dear,' he said, with his most exasperating roar.

248"'I suppose you will want to go to that demmed ball.' "'Excuse me, er, Monsieur Chauvelin, I had not observed you.' He extended two slender white fingers towards Chauvelin, who had risen when Sir Percy entered the box.

249"'Are you coming, my dear?' "'Hush!

250Sh-sh-sh!' came in angry remonstrance from different parts of the house.

251"'Demmed impudence!' commented Sir Percy with a good-natured smile.

252Marguerite sighed impatiently.

253Her last hopes seemed suddenly to have vanished away.

254She wrapped her cloak around her, and without looking at her husband.

255"'I am ready to go,' she said, taking his arm.

256At the door of the box she turned and looked straight at Chauvelin, who, with his chapeau-bras under his arm, and a curious smile round his thin lips, was preparing to follow the strangely ill-assorted couple.

257"'It is only au revoir, Chauvelin,' she said pleasantly.

258"'We shall meet at my Lord Grenthill's Ball anon.' And in her eyes the astute Frenchman read, no doubt, something which caused him profound satisfaction.

259For, with a sarcastic smile, he took a delicate pinch of snuff.

260Then, having dusted his dainty-laced jabot, he rubbed his thin, bony hands contentedly together.

261End of chapter 10