Presently the whole room would be lined with troops, himself and Collot standing with eyes fixed on the principal actor of the drama! Hebert with specially selected troopers standing on guard over Marguerite! No, no! he had left nothing to chance this time, and down below the horses would be ready saddled, that were to convey Collot and the precious document to Paris.
No! nothing was left to chance, and in either case he was bound to win.
Sir Percy Blakeney would either write the letter in order to save his wife, and heap dishonour on himself, or he would shrink from the terrible ordeal at the last moment and let Chauvelin and the Committee of Public Safety work their will with her and him.
"In that case the pillory as a spy and summary hanging for you, my friend," concluded Chauvelin in his mind, "and for your wife...

Bah, once you are out of the way, even she will cease to matter." He left Hebert on guard in the room.

An irresistible desire seized him to go and have a look at his discomfited enemy, and from the latter's attitude make a shrewd guess as to what he meant to do to-night.
Sir Percy had been given a room on one of the upper floors of the old prison.

He had in no way been closely guarded, and the room itself had been made as comfortable as may be.

He had seemed quite happy and contented when he had been conducted hither by Chauvelin, the evening before.
"I hope you quite understand, Sir Percy, that you are my guest here to-night," Chauvelin had said suavely, "and that you are free to come and go, just as you please." "Lud love you, sir," Sir Percy had replied gaily, "but I verily believe that I am." "It is only Lady Blakeney whom we have cause to watch until to-morrow," added Chauvelin with quiet significance.