Chauvelin heaved a deep sigh of satisfaction when Collot d'Herbois finally left him to himself.

He listened for awhile until the heavy footsteps died away in the distance, then leaning back in his chair, he gave himself over to the delights of the present situation.
Marguerite in his power.

Sir Percy Blakeney compelled to treat for her rescue if he did not wish to see her die a miserable death.
"Aye! my elusive hero," he muttered to himself, "methinks that we shall be able to cry quits at last." Outside everything had become still.

Even the wind in the trees out there on the ramparts had ceased their melancholy moaning.

The man was alone with his thoughts.