I Will Repay

by Baroness Emmuska Orczy Orczy

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  The unexpected.

  The small party walked on in silence. It seemed to consist of a very fewmen of the National Guard, whom Santerne had placed under the command ofthe soldier who had transmitted to him the orders of theCitizen-Deputies.

  Juliette and Deroulede both vaguely wondered whither they were beingled; to some other prison mayhap, away from the fury of the populace.They were conscious of a sense of satisfaction at thought of being freedfrom that pack of raging wild beasts.

  Beyond that they cared nothing. Both felt already the shadow of deathhovering over them. The supreme moment of their lives had come, and hadfound them side by side.

  What neither fear nor remorse, sorrow nor joy, could do, that the greatand mighty Shadow accomplished in a trice.

  Juliette, looking death bravely in the face, held out her hand, andsought that of the man she loved.

  There was not one word spoken between them, not even a murmur.

  Deroulede, with the unerring instinct of his own unselfish passion,understood all that the tiny hand wished to convey to him.

  In a moment everything was forgotten save the joy of this touch. Death,or the fear of death, had ceased to exist. Life was beautiful, and inthe soul of these two human creatures there was perfect peace, almostperfect happiness.

  With one grasp of the hand they had sought and found one another's soul.What mattered the yelling crowd, the noise and tumult of this sordidworld? They had found one another, and, hand-in-hand,shoulder-to-shoulder, they had gone off wandering into the land ofdreams, where dwelt neither doubt nor treachery, where there was nothingto forgive.

  He no longer said: "She does not love me--would she have betrayed meelse?" He felt the clinging, trustful touch of her hand, and knew that,with all her faults, her great sin and her lasting sorrow, her woman'sheart, Heaven's most priceless treasure, was indeed truly his.

  And she knew that he had forgiven--nay, that he had naught to forgive--for Love is sweet and tender, and judges not. Love is Love--whole,trustful, passionate. Love is perfect understanding and perfect peace.

  And so they followed their escort whithersoever it chose to lead them.

  Their eyes wandered aimlessly over the mist-laden landscape of thisportion of deserted Paris. They had turned away from the river now, andwere following the Rue des Arts. Close by on the right was the dismallittle hostelry, "La Cruche Cassee," where Sir Percy Blakeney lived.Deroulede, as they neared the place, caught himself vaguely wonderingwhat had become of his English friend.

  But it would take more than the ingenuity of the Scarlet Pimpernel toget two noted prisoners out of Paris to-day. Even if ...

  "Halt!"

  The word of command rang out clearly and distinctly through therain-soaked atmosphere.

  Deroulede threw up his head and listened. Something strange andunaccountable in that same word of command had struck his sensitive ear.

  Yet the party had halted, and there was a click as of bayonets ormuskets levelled ready to fire.

  All had happened in less than a few seconds. The next moment there was aloud cry:

  "_A moi,_ Deroulede! 'tis the Scarlet Pimpernel!"

  A vigorous blow from an unseen hand had knocked down and extinguishedthe nearest street lantern.

  Deroulede felt that he and Juliette were being hastily dragged under anadjoining doorway even as the cheery voice echoed along the narrowstreet.

  Half-a-dozen men were struggling below in the mud, and there was aplentiful supply of honest English oaths. It looked as if the men of theNational Guard had fallen upon one another, and had it not been forthose same English oaths perhaps Deroulede and Juliette would have beenslower to understand.

  "Well done, Tony! Gadzooks, Ffoulkes, that was a smart bit of work!"

  The lazy, pleasant voice was unmistakable, but, God in heaven! where didit come from?

  Of one thing there could be no doubt. The two men despatched by Santernewere lying disabled on the ground, whilst three other soldiers were busypinioning them with ropes.

  What did it all mean?

  "La, friend Deroulede! you had not thought, I trust, that I would leaveMademoiselle Juliette in such a demmed, uncomfortable hole?"

  And there, close beside Deroulede and Juliette, stood the tall figure ofthe Jacobin orator, the bloodthirsty Citizen Lenoir. The two youngpeople gazed and gazed, then looked again, dumfounded, hardly daring totrust their vision, for through the grime-covered mask of the giganticcoal-heaver a pair of merry blue eyes was regarding them withlazy-amusement.

  "La! I do look a miserable object, I know," said the pseudo coal-heaverat last, "but 'twas the only way to get those murderous devils to dowhat I wanted. A thousand pardons, mademoiselle; 'twas I brought you tosuch a terrible pass, but la! you are amongst friends now. Will youdeign to forgive me?"

  Juliette looked up. Her great, earnest eyes, now swimming in tears,sought those of the brave man who had so nobly stood by her and the manshe loved.

  "Blakeney ..." began Deroulede.

  But Sir Percy quickly interrupted him:

  "Hush, man! we have but a few moments. Remember you are in Paris still,and the Lord only knows how we shall all get out of this murderous cityto-night. I have said that you and mademoiselle are among friends. Thatis all for the moment. I had to get you together, or I should havefailed. I could only succeed by subjecting you and mademoiselle toterrible indignities. Our League could plan but one rescue, and I had toadopt the best means at my command to have you condemned and led awaytogether. Faith!" he added, with a pleasant laugh, "my friend Tinvillewill not be pleased when he realises that Citizen Lenoir has dragged theCitizen-Deputies by the nose."

  Whilst he spoke he had led Deroulede and Juliette into a dark and narrowroom on the ground floor of the hostelry, and presently he called loudlyfor Brogard, the host of this uninviting abode.

  "Brogard!" shouted Sir Percy. "Where is that ass Brogard? La! man," headded as Citizen Brogard, obsequious and fussy, and with pockets stuffedwith English gold, came shuffling along, "where do you hide yourengaging countenance? Here! another length of rope for the gallantsoldiers. Bring them in here, then give them that potion down theirthroats, as I have prescribed. Demm it! I wish we need not have broughtthem along, but that devil Santerre might have been suspicious else.They'll come to no harm, though, and can do us no mischief."

  He prattled along merrily. Innately kind and chivalrous, he wished togive Deroulede and Juliette time to recover from their dazed surprise.

  The transition from dull despair to buoyant hope had been so sudden: ithad all happened in less than three minutes.

  The scuffle had been short and sudden outside. The two soldiers ofSanterne had been taken completely unawares, and the three younglieutenants of the Scarlet Pimpernel had fallen on them with such vigourthat they had hardly had time to utter a cry of "Help!"

  Moreover, that cry would have been useless. The night was dark and wet,and those citizens who felt ready for excitement were busy mobbing theHall of Justice, a mile and a half away. One or two heads had appearedat the small windows of the squalid houses opposite, but it was too darkto see anything, and the scuffle had very quickly subsided.

  All was silent now in the Rue des Arts, and in the grimy coffee-room ofthe Cruche Cassee two soldiers of the National Guard were lying boundand gagged, whilst three others were gaily laughing, and wiping theirrain-soaked hands and faces.

  In the midst of them all stood the tall, athletic figure of the boldadventurer who had planned this impudent coup.

  "La! we've got so far, friends, haven't we?" he said cheerily, "and nowfor the immediate future. We must all be out of Paris to-night, or theguillotine for the lot of us to-morrow."

  He spoke gaily, and with that pleasant drawl of his which was so wellknown in the fashionable assemblies of London; but there was a ring ofearnestness in his voice, and his lieutenants looked up at him, ready toobey him in all things, but aware that danger was looming threateninglyahead.
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  Lord Anthony Dewhurst, Sir Andrew Ffoulkes, and Lord Hastings, dressedas soldiers of the National Guard, had played their part to perfection.Lord Hastings had presented the order to Santerre, and the three youngbucks, at the word of command from their chief, had fallen upon andoverpowered the two men whom the commandant of Paris had despatched tolook after the prisoners.

  So far all was well. But how to get out of Paris? Everyone looked to theScarlet Pimpernel for guidance.

  Sir Percy now turned to Juliette, and with the consummate grace whichthe elaborate etiquette of the times demanded, he made her a courtlybow.

  "Mademoiselle de Marny," he said, "allow me to conduct you to a room,which though unworthy of your presence will, nevertheless, enable you torest quietly for a few minutes, whilst I give my friend Derouledefurther advice and instructions. In the room you will find a disguise,which I pray you to don with all haste. La! they are filthy rags, I own,but your life and--and ours depend upon your help."

  Gallantly he kissed the tips of her fingers, and opened the door of anadjoining room to enable her to pass through; then he stood aside, sothat her final look, as she went, might be for Deroulede.

  As soon as the door had closed upon her he once more turned to the men.

  "Those uniforms will not do now," he said peremptorily; "there arebundles of abominable clothes here, Tony. Will you all don them asquickly as you can? We must all look as filthy a band of _sansculottes_to-night as ever walked the streets of Paris."

  His lazy drawl had deserted him now. He was the man of action and ofthought, the bold adventurer who held the lives of his friends in thehollow of his hand.

  The four men hastily obeyed. Lord Anthony Dewhurst--one of the mostelegant dandies of London society--had brought forth from a dankcupboard a bundle of clothes, mere rags, filthy but useful.

  Within ten minutes the change was accomplished, and four dirty, slouchyfigures stood confronting their chief.

  "That's capital!" said Sir Percy merrily.

  "Now for Mademoiselle de Marny."

  Hardly had he spoken when the door of the adjoining room was pushedopen, and a horrible apparition stood before the men. A woman in filthybodice and skirt, with face covered in grime, her yellow hair, mattedand greasy, thrust under a dirty and crumpled cap.

  A shout of rapturous delight greeted this uncanny apparition.

  Juliette, like the true woman she was, had found all her energy andspirits now that she felt that she had an important part to play. Shewoke from her dream to realise that noble friends had risked their livesfor the man she loved and for her.

  Of herself she did not think; she only remembered that her presence ofmind, her physical and mental strength, would be needed to carry therescue to a successful end.

  Therefore with the rags of a Paris _tricotteuse_ she had also donned herpersonality. She played her part valiantly, and one look at theperfection of her disguise was sufficient to assure the leader of thisband of heroes that his instructions would be carried through to theletter.

  Deroulede too now looked the ragged _sansculotte_ to the life, with bareand muddy feet, frayed breeches, and shabby, black-shag spencer. Thefour men stood waiting together with Juliette, whilst Sir Percy gavethem his final instructions.

  "We'll mix with the crowd," he said, "and do all that the crowd does. Itis for us to see that that unruly crowd does what we want. Mademoisellede Marny, a thousand congratulations. I entreat you to take hold of myfriend Deroulede's hand, and not to let go of it, on any pretextwhatever. La! not a difficult task, I ween," he added, with his genialsmile; "and yours, Deroulede, is equally easy. I enjoin you to takecharge of Mademoiselle Juliette, and on no account to leave her sideuntil we are out of Paris."

  "Out of Paris!" echoed Deroulede, with a troubled sigh.

  "Aye!" rejoined Sir Percy boldly; "out of Paris! with a howling mob atour heels causing the authorities to take double precautions. And aboveall remember, friends, that our rallying cry is the shrill call of thesea-mew thrice repeated. Follow it until you are outside the gates ofParis. Once there, listen for it again; it will lead you to freedom andsafety at last. Aye! Outside Paris, by the grace of God."

  The hearts of his hearers thrilled as they heard him. Who could help butfollow this brave and gallant adventurer, with the magic voice and thenoble bearing?

  "And now _en route_!" said Blakeney finally, "that ass Santerre willhave dispersed the pack of yelling hyenas with his cavalry by now.They'll to the Temple prison to find their prey; we'll in their wake. _Amoi,_ friends! and remember the sea-gull's cry."

  Deroulede drew Juliette's hand in his.

  "We are ready," he said; "and God bless the Scarlet Pimpernel."

  Then the five men, with Juliette in their midst, went out into thestreet once more.