I pray you have no fear.

I hold a weapon ready for that meddlesome Scarlet Pimpernel, which will be a thousand times more deadly and more effectual than a chance shot, or even a guillotine." "What weapon is that, Citizen Chauvelin ?" Chauvelin leaned forward across the table and rested his chin in his hands; instinctively Collot too leaned towards him, and both men peered furtively round them as if wondering if prying eyes happened to be lurking round.

It was Chauvelin's pale eyes which now gleamed with hatred and with an insatiable lust for revenge at least as powerful as Collot's lust for blood; the unsteady light of the tallow candles threw grotesque shadows across his brows, and his mouth was set in such rigid lines of implacable cruelty that the brutish sot beside him gazed on him amazed, vaguely scenting here a depth of feeling which was beyond his power to comprehend.

He repeated his question under his breath: "What weapon do you mean to use against that accursed spy, Citizen Chauvelin ?" "Dishonour and ridicule!" replied the other quietly.
"Bah!" "In exchange for his life and that of his wife." "As the woman told you just now...

he will refuse." "We shall see, Citizen." "You are mad to think such things, Citizen, and ill serve the Republic by sparing her bitterest foe." A long, sarcastic laugh broke from Chauvelin's parted lips.
"Spare him ?--spare the Scarlet Pimpernel!..." he ejaculated.