The whole town knows by now that you are in our hands--you, the most precious hostage we can hold for the ultimate capture of the man whom we all fear and detest.

Virtually the town-crier is at the present moment proclaiming to the inhabitants of this city: 'We want that man, but we already have his wife, see to it, citizens, that she does not escape! for if she do, we shall summarily shoot the breadwinner in every family in the town!'" A cry of horror escaped Marguerite's parched lips.
"Are you devils then, all of you," she gasped, "that you should think of such things ?" "Aye! some of us are devils, no doubt," said Chauvelin drily; "but why should you honour us in this case with so flattering an epithet?
We are mere men striving to guard our property and mean no harm to the citizens of Boulogne.

We have threatened them, true! but is it not for you and that elusive Pimpernel to see that the threat is never put into execution ?" "You would not do it!" she repeated, horror-stricken.
"Nay! I pray you, fair lady, do not deceive yourself.

At present the proclamation sounds like a mere threat, I'll allow, but let me assure you that if we fail to capture the Scarlet Pimpernel and if you on the other hand are spirited out of this fortress by that mysterious adventurer we shall undoubtedly shoot or guillotine every able-bodied man and woman in this town." He had spoken quietly and emphatically, neither with bombast, nor with rage, and Marguerite saw in his face nothing but a calm and ferocious determination, the determination of an entire nation embodied in this one man, to be revenged at any cost.

She would not let him see the depth of her despair, nor would she let him read in her face the unutterable hopelessness which filled her soul.