The Scarlet Pimpernel Series – All 35 Titles in One Edition. Emma Orczy

The Scarlet Pimpernel Series – All 35 Titles in One Edition - Emma Orczy


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have come to say..."

      Instinct of hospitality, which with old Levet amounted to a virtue, did prevent his ordering this "traitor" summarily out of his house.

      "I came from pure motives of friendship," the young man rejoined, in a tone of gentle reproach, "to warn you of what was impending. The matter is far more serious than you seem to realise."

      "I needed no warning. Loyal people like ourselves must be prepared these days for any calamity."

      "But there is your guest..." Maurin put in.

      "My guest? What guest?"

      "The man you brought to your house this afternoon. The authorities have got to know of this surreptitious visit. It has aroused their suspicion. Hence the order for your arrest — and his."

      Old Levet gave another shrug.

      "There's no one here," he said coolly, "except my son and daughter and the maid."

      "Come, come, my dear friend," the lawyer retorted, and his tone became more reproachful, and more gentle like that of a father admonishing his obstinate child, "you must not incriminate yourself by denying indisputable facts. I myself saw you introducing a stranger into your house, and your friend the professor can also bear witness to this."

      "I tell you there's no stranger here," old Levet reasserted harshly. "And now I pray you to excuse me. My family waits with supper for me."

      The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the sound of a rumble of wheels accompanied by the tramping of measured footsteps was heard approaching the house. There was a cry of "Halt!" outside the grille and then the usual summons: "In the name of the Republic!" the grille was thrust open, there was more tramping of heavy feet over the stone path to the house, and loud banging on the massive front door.

      "What did I tell you?" Maurin queried. He pushed past old Levet and strode quickly across the vestibule to the dining-room, where at sound of that ominous call Blanche and Augustin had jumped to their feet. The lawyer put one finger to his lips and murmured rapidly:

      "Do not be afraid. I am watching over you all. You have nothing to fear. But tell me quickly, where is the stranger?"

      "The stranger?" Augustin responded. "What stranger?"

      "You know quite well," the other retorted. "Your father's guest, whom he brought here this afternoon."

      "There has been no one here all day," Augustin rejoined quietly. "My mother died. Dr. Pradel was here to certify. There has been no one else."

      Maurin turned sharply to the girl.

      "Blanche," he said earnestly, "tell me the truth. Where is your father's guest?"

      "Augustin has told you, Louis," she replied, "there is no one here but ourselves."

      "They will search the house you know," he insisted.

      "Let them."

      "And question your maid."

      "She can only tell them the truth."

      The lawyer was decidedly nonplussed. Looking about him, he could not help noticing that only three places were laid round the table, and that there were only three half-empty soup plates there, while the tureen still stood on the sideboard.

      Through the door, which was ajar, he could hear old Levet give categorical replies to the questions which the sergeant of the guard put to him.

      "There is no one here."

      "Only the doctor came this afternoon."

      "He came to certify."

      "My son and daughter are at supper. My wife is dead. You can question the maid."

      Maurin spoke once more to Blanche.

      "Mademoiselle," he entreated, "for your own sake, tell me the truth."

      "I have told you," she reasserted, "there is no one here except ourselves."

      The lawyer smothered the harsh word which came to his lips: he said nothing more, however, turned on his heel and went out of the room.

      "What is all this?" he asked curtly of the sergeant.

      "You know best, citizen lawyer," was the soldier's equally curt reply.

      "I?" Maurin retorted unblushingly. "What the devil has it got to do with me?"

      "Well! it was you, I understand, who denounced these people."

      "That is a lie," the other protested hotly.

      "Who did then?"

      "A friend of the family, Professor d'Arblay."

      "Where is he?"

      "He had an accident in the road. Sprained his ankle. He had to drive home."

      "Where is his home?

      "I don't know. I hardly know him."

      "But you were with him in the Town Hall. You were seen coming out of the Chief Commissary's cabinet."

      "I was there on professional business," the lawyer retorted tartly, "and you have no right to question me like that. I had nothing to do with this denunciation, as I have the honour of being on friendly terms with this family. And I may as well tell you that I shall use all the influence I possess to clear the whole of this matter up. So you had better behave decently while you are in this house. It won't be good for you if you do not."

      He raised his voice and spoke peremptorily like one accustomed to be listened to with deference. But the sergeant seemed unimpressed. All he said was:

      "Very well, citizen. You will act, no doubt, as you think best in your own interests. I have only my duty to perform."

      He gave a quick order to two of his men, who immediately stepped forward and took up their stand one on each side of Charles Levet. The sergeant then crossed the vestibule, and taking no further notice of the lawyer, he went into the dining-room. Blanche and Augustin had resumed their seats at the table. Blanche sat with her chin cupped in her hand. Augustin, his eyes closed his fingers twined together, seemed absorbed in prayer. In the background Marie, the maid of all work, stood agape like a frightened hen.

      The sergeant took a comprehensive survey of the room. He was a stolid-looking fellow, obviously a countryman and not over-endowed with intelligence, and he gave the impression that what he lacked in personality he strove to counterbalance by bluster: the sort of bumpkin in fact whom the Revolution had dragged out of obscurity and thrust into some measure of prominence, and who was determined to make the most of his unexpected rise to fortune. He took no further notice of the lawyer, cleared his throat, and announced with due pompousness:

      "In the name of the Republic!"

      He then unfolded a paper which he had in his hand, and continued:

      "I have here a list of all the inmates of this house, as given to the Chief of Section this afternoon, either by Citizen Maurin or his friend the Professeur with the sprained ankle, whose address is not known. I will read aloud the names on this list, and each one of you on hearing your name, say the one word, 'Present' and stand at attention. Now then!"

      He then proceeded to read and to interpolate comments of his own after every name.

      "Charles Levet, herbalist! We have got him safely already. Henriette his wife! She is dead, I understand. Augustin Levet, priest! ... Why don't you answer?" he interposed peremptorily as Augustin had not made the required reply, "and why don't you rise? Have you also got a sprained ankle?"

      Augustin then rose obediently and spoke the word:

      "Present."

      "Blanche Levet, daughter of Charles," the solder continued.

      "Present."

      "Marie Bachelier, aide ménage."

      "Here I am, citizen sergeant," quoth Marie, nearly scared out of her wits.

      "And a guest, identity unknown,"


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