When she realised what had happened, a curious mixture of joy and wonder filled her heart. It all was so neat, so ingenious. Chauvelin was still absolutely helpless, far more so than he could even have been under a blow from the fist, for now he could neither see, nor hear, nor speak, whilst his cunning adversary2 had quietly slipped through his fingers.
Blakeney was gone, obviously to try and join the fugitives3 at the Père Blanchard's hut. For the moment, true, Chauvelin was helpless; for the moment the daring Scarlet4 Pimpernel had not been caught by Desgas and his men. But all the roads and the beach were patrolled. Every place was watched, and every stranger kept in sight. How far could Percy go, thus arrayed in his gorgeous clothes, without being sighted and followed? [NEW PARAGRAPH] Now she blamed herself terribly for not having gone down to him sooner, and given him that word of warning and of love which, perhaps, after all, he needed. He could not know of the orders which Chauvelin had given for his capture, and even now, perhaps . . .
But before all these horrible thoughts had taken concrete form in her brain, she heard the grounding of arms outside, close to the door, and Desgas' voice shouting “Halt!” to his men.
Chauvelin had partially6 recovered; his sneezing had become less violent, and he had struggled to his feet. He managed to reach the door just as Desgas' knock was heard on the outside.
Chauvelin threw open the door, and before his secretary could say a word, he had managed to stammer8 between two sneezes—
“The tall stranger—quick!—did any of you see him?”
“Where, citoyen?” asked Desgas, in surprise.
“Here, man! through that door! not five minutes ago.”
“We saw nothing, citoyen! The moon is not yet up, and . . .”
“And you are just five minutes too late, my friend,” said Chauvelin, with concentrated fury.
“Citoyen . . . I . . .”
“You did what I ordered you to do,” said Chauvelin, with impatience9. “I know that, but you were a precious long time about it. Fortunately, there's not much harm done, or it had fared ill with you, Citoyen Desgas.”
“Was here, in this room, five minutes ago, having supper at that table. Damn his impudence12! For obvious reasons, I dared not tackle him alone. Brogard is too big a fool, and that cursed Englishman appears to have the strength of a bullock, and so he slipped away under your very nose.”
“He cannot go far without being sighted, citoyen.”
“Ah?”
“Captain Jutley sent forty men as reinforcements for the patrol duty: twenty went down to the beach. He again assured me that the watch has been constant all day, and that no stranger could possibly get to the beach, or reach a boat, without being sighted.”
“That's good.—Do the men know their work?”
“They have had very clear orders, citoyen: and I myself spoke13 to those who were about to start. They are to shadow—as secretly as possible—any stranger they may see, especially if he be tall, or stoop as if he would disguise his height.”
“In no case to detain such a person, of course,” said Chauvelin, eagerly. “That impudent14 Scarlet Pimpernel would slip through clumsy fingers. We must let him get to the Père Blanchard's hut now; there surround and capture him.”
“The men understand that, citoyen, and also that, as soon as a tall stranger has been sighted, he must be shadowed, whilst one man is to turn straight back and report to you.”
“That is right,” said Chauvelin, rubbing his hands, well pleased.
“I have further news for you, citoyen.”
“What is it?”
“A tall Englishman had a long conversation about three-quarters of an hour ago with a Jew, Reuben by name, who lives not ten paces from here.”
“The conversation was all about a horse and cart, which the tall Englishman wished to hire, and which was to have been ready for him by eleven o'clock.”
“It is past that now. Where does that Reuben live?”
“A few minutes' walk from this door.”
“Send one of the men to find out if the stranger has driven off in Reuben's cart.”
“Yes, citoyen.”
Desgas went to give the necessary orders to one of the men. Not a word of this conversation between him and Chauvelin had escaped Marguerite, and every word they had spoken seemed to strike at her heart, with terrible hopelessness and dark foreboding.
She had come all this way, and with such high hopes and firm determination to help her husband, and so far she had been able to do nothing, but to watch, with a heart breaking with anguish16, the meshes17 of the deadly net closing round the daring Scarlet Pimpernel.
He could not now advance many steps, without spying eyes to track and denounce him. Her own helplessness struck her with the terrible sense of utter disappointment. The possibility of being of the slightest use to her husband had become almost nil18, and her only hope rested in being allowed to share his fate, whatever it might ultimately be.
For the moment, even her chance of ever seeing the man she loved again, had become a remote one. Still, she was determined19 to keep a close watch over his enemy, and a vague hope filled her heart, that whilst she kept Chauvelin in sight, Percy's fate might still be hanging in the balance.
Desgas had left Chauvelin moodily20 pacing up and down the room, whilst he himself waited outside for the return of the man whom he had sent in search of Reuben. Thus several minutes went by. Chauvelin was evidently devoured21 with impatience. Apparently22 he trusted no one: this last trick played upon him by the daring Scarlet Pimpernel had made him suddenly doubtful of success, unless he himself was there to watch, direct and superintend the capture of this impudent Englishman.
About five minutes later, Desgas returned, followed by an elderly Jew, in a dirty, threadbare gaberdine, worn greasy23 across the shoulders. His red hair, which he wore after the fashion of the Polish Jews, with the corkscrew curls each side of his face, was plentifully24 sprinkled with grey—a general coating of grime, about his cheeks and his chin, gave him a peculiarly dirty and loathsome27 appearance. He had the habitual28 stoop, those of his race affected29 in mock humility30 in past centuries, before the dawn of equality and freedom in matters of faith, and he walked behind Desgas with the peculiar25 shuffling31 gait which has remained the characteristic of the Jew trader in continental32 Europe to this day.
Chauvelin, who had all the Frenchman's prejudice against the despised race, motioned to the fellow to keep at a respectful distance. The group of the three men were standing33 just underneath34 the hanging oil-lamp, and Marguerite had a clear view of them all.
“Is this the man?” asked Chauvelin.
“No, citoyen,” replied Desgas, “Reuben could not be found, so presumably his cart has gone with the stranger; but this man here seems to know something, which he is willing to sell for a consideration.”
“Ah!” said Chauvelin, turning away with disgust from the loathsome specimen35 of humanity before him.
The Jew, with characteristic patience, stood humbly36 on one side, leaning on a thick knotted staff, his greasy, broad-brimmed hat casting a deep shadow over his grimy face, waiting for the noble Excellency to deign37 to put some questions to him.
“The citoyen tells me,” said Chauvelin peremptorily38 to him, “that you know something of my friend, the tall Englishman, whom I desire to meet.[EOL] . . . Morbleu! keep your distance, man,” he added hurriedly, as the Jew took a quick and eager step forward.
“Yes, your Excellency,” replied the Jew, who spoke the language with that peculiar lisp which denotes Eastern origin, “I and Reuben Goldstein met a tall Englishman, on the road, close by here this evening.”
“Did you speak to him?”
“He spoke to us, your Excellency. He wanted to know if he could hire a horse and cart to go down along the St. Martin Road, to a place he wanted to reach to-night.”
“What did you say?”
“I did not say anything,” said the Jew in an injured tone, “Reuben Goldstein, that accursed traitor39, that son of Belial . . .”
“Cut that short, man,” interrupted Chauvelin, roughly, “and go on with your story.”
“He took the words out of my mouth, your Excellency; when I was about to offer the wealthy Englishman my horse and cart, to take him wheresoever he chose, Reuben had already spoken, and offered his half-starved nag7, and his broken-down cart.”
“And what did the Englishman do?”
“He listened to Reuben Goldstein, your Excellency, and put his hand in his pocket then and there, and took out a handful of gold, which he showed to that descendant of Beelzebub, telling him that all that would be his, if the horse and cart were ready for him by eleven o'clock.”
“And, of course, the horse and cart were ready?”
“Well! they were ready in a manner, so to speak, your Excellency. Reuben's nag was lame5 as usual; she refused to budge40 at first. It was only after a time and with plenty of kicks, that she at last could be made to move,” said the Jew with a malicious41 chuckle42.
“Then they started?”
“Yes, they started about five minutes ago. I was disgusted with that stranger's folly43. An Englishman too!—He ought to have known Reuben's nag was not fit to drive.”
“But if he had no choice?”
“No choice, your Excellency?” protested the Jew, in a rasping voice, “did I not repeat to him a dozen times, that my horse and cart would take him quicker, and more comfortably than Reuben's bag of bones. He would not listen. Reuben is such a liar26, and has such insinuating44 ways. The stranger was deceived. If he was in a hurry, he would have had better value for his money by taking my cart.”
“You have a horse and cart too, then?” asked Chauvelin, peremptorily.
“Aye! that I have, your Excellency, and if your Excellency wants to drive . . .”
“Do you happen to know which way my friend went in Reuben Goldstein's cart?”
Thoughtfully the Jew rubbed his dirty chin. Marguerite's heart was beating well-nigh to bursting. She had heard the peremptory45 question; she looked anxiously at the Jew, but could not read his face beneath the shadow of his broad-brimmed hat. Vaguely46 she felt somehow as if he held Percy's fate in his long, dirty hands.
There was a long pause, whilst Chauvelin frowned impatiently at the stooping figure before him: at last the Jew slowly put his hand in his breast pocket, and drew out from its capacious depths a number of silver coins. He gazed at them thoughtfully, then remarked, in a quiet tone of voice,—
“This is what the tall stranger gave me, when he drove away with Reuben, for holding my tongue about him, and his doings.”
“How much is there there?” he asked.
“Twenty francs, your Excellency,” replied the Jew, “and I have been an honest man all my life.”
Chauvelin without further comment took a few pieces of gold out of his own pocket, and leaving them in the palm of his hand, he allowed them to jingle48 as he held them out towards the Jew.
“How many gold pieces are there in the palm of my hand?” he asked quietly.
Evidently he had no desire to terrorise the man, but to conciliate him, for his own purposes, for his manner was pleasant and suave49. No doubt he feared that threats of the guillotine, and various other persuasive50 methods of that type, might addle51 the old man's brains, and that he would be more likely to be useful through greed of gain, than through terror of death.
The eyes of the Jew shot a quick, keen glance at the gold in his interlocutor's hand.
“At least five, I should say, your Excellency,” he replied obsequiously52.
“Enough, do you think, to loosen that honest tongue of yours?”
“What does your Excellency wish to know?”
“Whether your horse and cart can take me to where I can find my friend the tall stranger, who has driven off in Reuben Goldstein's cart?”
“My horse and cart can take your Honour there, where you please.”
“To a place called the Père Blanchard's hut?”
“Your Honour has guessed?” said the Jew in astonishment53.
“You know the place?”
“I know it, your Honour.” [NEW PARAGRAPH] “Which road leads to it?”
“You know the road?” repeated Chauvelin, roughly.
“Every stone, every blade of grass, your Honour,” replied the Jew quietly.
Chauvelin without another word threw the five pieces of gold one by one before the Jew, who knelt down, and on his hands and knees struggled to collect them. One rolled away, and he had some trouble to get it, for it had lodged55 underneath the dresser. Chauvelin quietly waited while the old man scrambled56 on the floor, to find the piece of gold.
When the Jew was again on his feet, Chauvelin said,—
“How soon can your horse and cart be ready?”
“They are ready now, your Honour.”
“Where?”
“Not ten mètres from this door. Will your Excellency deign to look?”
“I don't want to see it. How far can you drive me in it?”
“As far as the Père Blanchard's hut, your Honour, and further than Reuben's nag took your friend. I am sure that, not two leagues from here, we shall come across that wily Reuben, his nag, his cart and the tall stranger all in a heap in the middle of the road.”
“How far is the nearest village from here?”
“On the road which the Englishman took, Miquelon is the nearest village, not two leagues from here.”
“There he could get fresh conveyance57, if he wanted to go further?”
“He could—if he ever got so far.”
“Can you?”
“Will your Excellency try?” said the Jew simply.
“That is my intention,” said Chauvelin very quietly, “but remember, if you have deceived me, I shall tell off two of my most stalwart soldiers to give you such a beating, that your breath will perhaps leave your ugly body for ever. But if we find my friend the tall Englishman, either on the road or at the Père Blanchard's hut, there will be ten more gold pieces for you. Do you accept the bargain?”
The Jew again thoughtfully rubbed his chin. He looked at the money in his hand, then at his stern interlocutor, and at Desgas, who had stood silently behind him all this while. After a moment's pause, he said deliberately,—
“I accept.”
“Go and wait outside then,” said Chauvelin, “and remember to stick to your bargain, or by Heaven, I will keep to mine.”
With a final, most abject58 and cringing59 bow, the old Jew shuffled60 out of the room. Chauvelin seemed pleased with his interview, for he rubbed his hands together, with that usual gesture of his, of malignant61 satisfaction.
“My coat and boots,” he said to Desgas at last.
Desgas went to the door, and apparently gave the necessary orders, for presently a soldier entered, carrying Chauvelin's coat, boots, and hat.
He took off his soutane, beneath which he was wearing close-fitting breeches and a cloth waistcoat, and began changing his attire62.
“You, citoyen, in the meanwhile,” he said to Desgas, “go back to Captain Jutley as fast as you can, and tell him to let you have another dozen men, and bring them with you along the St. Martin Road, where I daresay you will soon overtake the Jew's cart with myself in it. There will be hot work presently, if I mistake not, in the Père Blanchard's hut. We shall corner our game there, I'll warrant, for this impudent Scarlet Pimpernel has had the audacity—or the stupidity, I hardly know which—to adhere to his original plans. He has gone to meet de Tournay, St. Just and the other traitors63, which for the moment, I thought, perhaps, he did not intend to do. When we find them, there will be a band of desperate men at bay. Some of our men will, I presume, be put hors de combat. These royalists are good swordsmen, and the Englishman is devilish cunning, and looks very powerful. Still, we shall be five against one at least. You can follow the cart closely with your men, all along the St. Martin Road, through Miquelon. The Englishman is ahead of us, and not likely to look behind him.”
Whilst he gave these curt64 and concise65 orders, he had completed his change of attire. The priest's costume had been laid aside, and he was once more dressed in his usual dark, tight-fitting clothes. At last he took up his hat.
“I shall have an interesting prisoner to deliver into your hands,” he said with a chuckle, as with unwonted familiarity he took Desgas' arm, and led him towards the door. “We won't kill him outright66, eh, friend Desgas? The Père Blanchard's hut is—an I mistake not—a lonely spot upon the beach, and our men will enjoy a bit of rough sport there with the wounded fox. Choose your men well, friend Desgas . . . of the sort who would enjoy that type of sport—eh? We must see that Scarlet Pimpernel wither67 a bit—what?—shrink and tremble, eh? . . . before we finally . . .”—he made an expressive68 gesture, whilst he laughed a low, evil laugh, which filled Marguerite's soul with sickening horror.
“Choose your men well, Citoyen Desgas,” he said once more, as he led his secretary finally out of the room.
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1
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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8
stammer
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| n.结巴，口吃；v.结结巴巴地说 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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16
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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meshes
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| 网孔( mesh的名词复数 )； 网状物； 陷阱； 困境 | |
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nil
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| n.无，全无，零 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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plentifully
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| adv. 许多地，丰饶地 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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31
shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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32
continental
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| adj.大陆的，大陆性的，欧洲大陆的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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deign
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| v. 屈尊, 惠允 ( 做某事) | |
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peremptorily
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| adv.紧急地，不容分说地，专横地 | |
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traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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40
budge
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| v.移动一点儿；改变立场 | |
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41
malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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42
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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43
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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44
insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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45
peremptory
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| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
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46
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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47
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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48
jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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49
suave
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| adj.温和的；柔和的；文雅的 | |
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50
persuasive
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| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
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51
addle
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| v.使腐坏，使昏乱 | |
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52
obsequiously
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53
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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54
footpath
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| n.小路，人行道 | |
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55
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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56
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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57
conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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58
abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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59
cringing
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| adj.谄媚，奉承 | |
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60
shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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61
malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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62
attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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63
traitors
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| 卖国贼( traitor的名词复数 )； 叛徒； 背叛者； 背信弃义的人 | |
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64
curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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65
concise
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| adj.简洁的，简明的 | |
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66
outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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67
wither
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| vt.使凋谢，使衰退，(用眼神气势等)使畏缩；vi.枯萎，衰退，消亡 | |
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68
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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