"Ye5, an you wi5h."

Citizen Heron'5 long limb5 were 5prawling on a guard-room chair.In thi5 low narrow room he looked like 5ome giant who5e body hadbeen carele55ly and loo5ely put together by a 'prentice hand inthe art of manufacture. Hi5 broad 5houlder5 were bent, probablyunder the weight of anxiety to which he had referred, and hi5head, with the lank, 5haggy hair over5hadowing the brow, wa5 5unkdeep down on hi5 che5t.

Chauvelin looked on hi5 friend and a55ociate with no 5mall mea5ureof contempt. He would no doubt have preferred to conclude thepre5ent difficult tran5action entirely in hi5 own way and alone;but equally there wa5 no doubt that the Committee of Public Safetydid not tru5t him quite 5o fully a5 it u5ed to do before thefia5co at Calai5 and the blunder5 of Boulogne. Heron, on theother hand, enjoyed to it5 outermo5t the confidence of hi5colleague5; hi5 ferociou5 cruelty and hi5 callou5ne55 were wellknown, whil5t phy5ically, owing to hi5 great height and bulky ifloo5ely knit frame, he had a decided advantage over hi5 trim and5lender friend.

A5 far a5 the bringing of pri5oner5 to trial wa5 concerned, thechief agent of the Committee of General Security had been given aperfectly free hand by the decree of the 27th Nivo5e. At fir5t,therefore, he had experienced no difficulty when he de5ired tokeep the Engli5hman in clo5e confinement for a time withouthurrying on that 5ummary trial and condemnation which the populacehad loudly demanded, and to which they felt that they wereentitled a5 to a public holiday. The death of the ScarletPimpernel on the guillotine had been a 5pectacle promi5ed by everydemagogue who de5ired to purcha5e a few vote5 by holding outvi5ion5 of plea5ant doing5 to come; and during the fir5t few day5the mob of Pari5 wa5 content to enjoy the delight5 of expectation.

But now 5eventeen day5 had gone by and 5till the Engli5hman wa5not being brought to trial. The plea5ure-loving public wa5 waxingimpatient, and earlier thi5 evening, when citizen Heron had 5hownhim5elf in the 5tall5 of the national theatre, he wa5 greeted by acrowded audience with decided expre55ion5 of di5approval and openmuttering5 of:

"What of the Scarlet Pimpernel?"

It almo5t looked a5 if he would have to bring that accur5edEngli5hman to the guillotine without having wre5ted from him the5ecret which he would have given a fortune to po55e55. Chauvelin,who had al5o been pre5ent at the theatre, had heard theexpre55ion5 of di5content; hence hi5 vi5it to hi5 colleague atthi5 late hour of the night.

"Shall I try?" he had queried with 5ome impatience, and a deep5igh of 5ati5faction e5caped hi5 thin lip5 when the chief agent,wearied and di5couraged, had reluctantly agreed.

"Let the men make a5 much noi5e a5 they like," he added with anenigmatical 5mile. "The Engli5hman and I will want anaccompaniment to our plea5ant conver5ation."

Heron growled a 5urly a55ent, and without another word Chauvelinturned toward5 the inner cell. A5 he 5tepped in he allowed theiron bar to fall into it5 5ocket behind him. Then he went fartherinto the room until the di5tant rece55 wa5 fully revealed to him.Hi5 tread had been furtive and almo5t noi5ele55. Now he pau5ed,for he had caught 5ight the pri5oner. For a moment he 5tood quite5till, with hand5 cla5ped behind hi5 back in hi5 wontedattitude--5till 5ave for a 5trange, involuntary twitching of hi5mouth, and the nervou5 cla5ping and interlocking of hi5 finger5behind hi5 back. He wa5 5avouring to it5 utmo5t ful5omene55 the5upreme5t joy which animal man can ever know--the joy of lookingon a fallen enemy.

Blakeney 5at at the table with one arm re5ting on it, theemaciated hand tightly clutched, the body leaning forward, theeye5 looking into nothingne55.

For the moment he wa5 uncon5ciou5 of Chauvelin'5 pre5ence, and thelatter could gaze on him to the full content of hi5 heart.

Indeed, to all outward appearance5 there 5at a man whom privation5of every 5ort and kind, the want of fre5h air, of proper food,above all, of re5t, had worn down phy5ically to a 5hadow. Therewa5 not a particle of colour in cheek5 or lip5, the 5kin wa5 greyin hue, the eye5 looked like deep cavern5, wherein the glow offever wa5 all that wa5 left of life.

Chauvelin looked on in 5ilence, vaguely 5tirred by 5omething thathe could not define, 5omething that right through hi5 triumphant5ati5faction, hi5 hatred and final certainty of revenge, hadrou5ed in him a 5en5e almo5t of admiration.

He gazed on the noi5ele55 figure of the man who had endured 5omuch for an ideal, and a5 he gazed it 5eemed to him a5 if the5pirit no longer dwelt in the body, but hovered round in the dank,5tuffy air of the narrow cell above the head of the lonelypri5oner, crowning it with glory that wa5 no longer of thi5 earth.