With Chauvelin at his heels, every step the Scarlet Pimpernel takes on French soil is fraught with danger." "God grant it, Sir Andrew.

But now, farewell.

We meet to-night at Dover! It will be a race between Chauvelin and me across the Channel to-night--and the prize--the life of the Scarlet Pimpernel." He kissed her hand, and then escorted her to her chair.

A quarter of an hour later she was back at the "Crown" inn, where her coach and horses were ready and waiting for her.

The next moment they thundered along the London streets, and then straight on to the Dover road at maddening speed.
She had no time for despair now.