CHAPTER XXVII: The Decision.
Once more the two men were alone.
As far as Chauvelin was concerned he felt that everything was not yet settled, and until a moment ago he had been in doubt as to whether Sir Percy would accept the infamous conditions which had been put before him, or allow his pride and temper to get the better of him and throw the deadly insults back into his adversary's teeth.
But now a new secret had been revealed to the astute diplomatist.

A name, softly murmured by a broken-hearted woman, had told him a tale of love and passion, which he had not even suspected before.
Since he had made this discovery he knew that the ultimate issue was no longer in doubt.

Sir Percy Blakeney, the bold adventurer, ever ready for a gamble where lives were at stake, might have demurred before he subscribed to his own dishonour, in order to save his wife from humiliation and the shame of the terrible fate that had been mapped out for her.

But the same man passionately in love with such a woman as Marguerite Blakeney would count the world well lost for her sake.
One sudden fear alone had shot through Chauvelin's heart when he stood face to face with the two people whom he had so deeply and cruelly wronged, and that was that Blakeney, throwing aside all thought of the scores of innocent lives that were at stake, might forget everything, risk everything, dare everything, in order to get his wife away there and then.
For the space of a few seconds Chauvelin had felt that his own life was in jeopardy, and that the Scarlet Pimpernel would indeed make a desperate effort to save himself and his wife.

But the fear was short-lived: Marguerite--as he had well foreseen--would never save herself at the expense of others, and she was tied! tied! tied! That was his triumph and his joy! When Marguerite finally left the room, Sir Percy made no motion to follow her, but turned once more quietly to his antagonist.
"As you were saying, Monsieur ?..." he queried lightly.
"Oh! there is nothing more to say, Sir Percy," rejoined Chauvelin; "my conditions are clear to you, are they not?
Lady Blakeney's and your own immediate release in exchange for a letter written to me by your own hand, and signed here by you--in this room--in my presence and that of sundry other persons whom I need not name just now.