THE TRIUMPH OF THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL BY BARONESS ORCZY _Author of "Nicolette," "The First Sir Percy" "Flower 'o the Lily," "The Scarlet Pimpernel," etc._ NEW YORK GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY CONTENTS CHAPTER I. "The Everlasting Stars Look Down" II. Feet of Clay III. The Fellowship of Grief IV. One Dram of Joy Must Have a Pound of Care V. Rascality Rejoices VI. One Crowded Hour of Glorious Life VII. Two Interludes VIII. The Beautiful Spaniard IX. A Hideous, Fearful Hour X. The Grim Idol that the World Adores XI. Strange Happenings XII. Chauvelin XIII. The Fisherman's Rest XIV. The Castaway XV. The Nest XVI. A Lover of Sport XVII. Reunion XVIII. Night and Morning XIX. A Rencontre XX. Departure XXI. Memories XXII. Waiting XXIII. Mice and Men XXIV. By Order of the State XXV. Four Days XXVI. A Dream XXVII. Terror or Ambition XXVIII. In the Meanwhile XXIX. The Close of the Second Day XXX. When the Storm Burst XXXI. Our Lady of Pity XXXII. Grey Dawn XXXIII. The Cataclysm XXXIV. The Whirlwind THE TRIUMPH OF THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL CHAPTER I "THE EVERLASTING STARS LOOK DOWN, LIKE GLISTENING EYES BRIGHT WITH IMMORTAL PITT, OVER THE LOT OF MAN." §1 Nearly five years have gone by! Five years, since the charred ruins of grim Bastille--stone image of Absolutism and of Autocracy--set the seal of victory upon the expression of a people's will and marked the beginning of that marvellous era of Liberty and of Fraternity which has led us step by step from the dethronement of a King, through the martyrdom of countless innocents, to the tyranny of an oligarchy more arbitrary, more relentless, above all more cruel, than any that the dictators of Rome or Stamboul ever dreamed of in their wildest thirst for power. An era that sees a populace always clamouring for the Millennium, which ranting demagogues have never ceased to promise: a Millennium to be achieved alternatively through the extermination of Aristocracy, of Titles, of Riches, and the abrogation of Priesthood: through dethroned royalty and desecrated altars, through an army without leadership, or an Assembly without power. They have never ceased to prate, these frothy rhetoricians! And the people went on, vaguely believing that one day, soon, that Millennium would surely come, after seas of blood had purged the soil of France from the last vestige of bygone oppression, and after her sons and daughters had been massacred in their thousands and their tens of thousands, until their headless bodies had built up a veritable scaling ladder for the tottering feet of lustful climbers, and these in their turn had perished to make way for other ranters, other speech-makers, a new Demosthenes or long-tongued Cicero.