Chauvelin, whose piercing eyes were fixed on him at that moment, smiled with contemptuous irony.
"As you will find your hands overfull for the next few hours, citizen Heron," he said, speaking to his colleague and nodding in the direction of Armand, "I'll not trouble you with the voluntary confession this young citizen desired to make to you.

All I need tell you is that he is an adherent of the Scarlet Pimpernel--I believe one of his most faithful, most trusted officers." Heron roused himself from the maze of gloomy thoughts that were again paralysing his tongue.

He turned bleary, wild eyes on Armand.
"We have got one of them, then ?" he murmured incoherently, babbling like a drunken man.
"M'yes!" replied Chauvelin lightly; "but it is too late now for a formal denunciation and arrest.

He cannot leave Paris anyhow, and all that your men need to do is to keep a close look-out on him.

But I should send him home to-night if I were you." Heron muttered something more, which, however, Armand did not understand.