Simon Hawke - The Pimpernel Plot

Jean bent down over the first man, the one he had killed. “I thought it was a pistol,” he said. “What is-”

“Don’t touch it!”

The boy froze.

“It’s all right, “ said Mongoose

Marguerite saw that the man held an identical tube in his right hand. He bent down and took the other tube from the dead man, then removed two others from the other men.

“What is it?” Jean said. “I have never seen a weapon like that before.” He stared at the tubes Mongoose held. “How can they kill so… so…”

“Never mind,” said Mongoose. “Here, take your blade back. And thanks. You saved my life.”

“You would have done the same for me,” Jean said, gallantly. He was obviously proud.

“Yes, but what you just did is a great deal more important. Much more important than you could possibly believe or understand. Here, help me drag these bodies out of the way. Over in the corner, there.”

“Who were these men?” said Jean, dragging one of them by the legs across the room.

“You might say that they were colleagues of mine, in a way,” Mongoose said, with a chuckle. “A very unusual way.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“They were not the same three men I saw enter the inn just now,” said Jean. “They are dressed differently. Besides, they would not have had the time to get upstairs so quickly.”

“You’re right,” said Mongoose. “You don’t miss a thing. These characters were already here. My guess is that they were coming upstairs to take up their positions and they overheard us in here. All this means that we have very little time. No time for any more questions. From now on, you just listen well and keep your eyes open and your mouth shut. Whatever happens next is going to happen very fast.”

He looked at Marguerite. “Lady Blakeney, you’ll excuse us, won’t you? Don’t try to get free; you won’t be able to. If you roll off the bed and onto the floor, you’ll only succeed in making yourself more uncomfortable and you might hurt yourself.”

He opened the door and stepped outside, with Jean following him. The door swung shut and Marguerite, finally succumbing to the shock of what she had just experienced and the effect of all the wine she had drunk, passed out.

They ran into Andrew Ffoulkes as they were approaching the inn. Ffoulkes had been out to Pere Blanchard’s cottage and, not having found them there, had hurried back to town as quickly as he could. He caught up to them when they were within a block of Brogard’s inn.

“Ffoulkes!” said Lucas. “Where are you coming from? What’s happened?”

“Thank God I’ve found you,” Ffoulkes said, dismounting from his horse. “I’ve just been out to the cottage and, not finding you there, I thought that all was lost! I came with Marguerite-”

“Marguerite!” said Finn. “Here? What the hell is she-”

“She’s waiting upstairs in the Chat Gris,” said Ffoulkes. “I told her not to venture forth from her room under any circumstances. We are all in great danger. We came to warn you.” He saw Cobra, registering his presence for the first time. “Who’s this?”

“It’s all right,” said Finn. “This is Collins. He’s one of us, one of our agents in France. Speak quickly, man, what danger? Warn us about what?”

“It’s Chauvelin,” said Ffoulkes.

“The French representative?” said Finn.

“The French spy. He knows everything. He knows you are the Scarlet Pimpernel. He has come to France to set a trap for you. He cannot be far behind.”

“Then we’ll have to move quickly,” Cobra said, taking over. “The Comte de Tournay and St. Just will be arriving any moment. Ffoulkes, you’d best get back to the cottage and wait for them. We’ll send them on to you. Meanwhile, we must go and take Lady Blakeney from the inn. It is a dangerous place for her to be.”

Ffoulkes glanced at Finn for confirmation. “Do as he says,” said Finn. “Quickly!”

Ffoulkes swung up into the saddle. “Good luck, Percy. God speed!”

As he galloped off, Finn turned to Cobra and said, “That was quick thinking.”

“We’ll have to move even quicker,” Cobra said. “Lucas you and Andre take up positions at opposite ends of the street. I’ll cover the inn from the outside while Finn goes in and gets Marguerite. If you see any soldiers coming, fire your pistols. That’ll warn us and it may give the soldiers pause, since they won’t know what they’ll be riding into. The moment Finn’s got Marguerite safely out of the inn, you all get to Pere Blanchard’s hut as quickly as you can. I’ll stay behind to redirect the Comte de Tournay and St. Just.”

“Alone?” said Lucas.

“Chauvelin doesn’t know me,” Cobra said. “I’ll be safe enough. Besides, without someone to guide them, they’ll miss that footpath down to the cottage in the dark. Now get going.”

Lucas and Andre split up, each of them running to take up their positions at opposite ends of the street, where they would have a good view of any soldiers approaching. Even if they didn’t see them in the darkness, they would hear the approach of mounted men and have enough time to fire their warning shots and run for it.

“How the hell did Marguerite find out-” Finn began, but Cobra interrupted him.

“You can ask her later. Right now, let’s get her out of there before Chauvelin shows up. We can worry about the fine points once we’re all safely out of France.”

They ran to the inn.

“Don’t waste any time,” said Cobra.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” said Finn. He opened the door and entered the Chat Gris. He noticed that Brogard wasn’t doing as badly as he usually did. At first glance, he estimated that there were perhaps fifteen or twenty customers seated at the tables. Perhaps it was his imagination, but the moment that he entered the inn, it seemed to him that there was a brief lull in the undertone of conversation. Standing there, he felt suddenly very vulnerable.

Pull yourself together, Delaney, he thought. This is no time to have an attack of paranoia.

He put an expression of vague boredom on his face and started walking casually across the room, heading for the stairs leading up to the second floor. He was about halfway across the room when he heard someone call out Blakeney’s name. For a moment, he froze, then turned around to see Chauvelin rising from a table about twenty feet away.

“It is you,” said Chauvelin, beaming. “What a pleasant surprise! Whatever are you doing in France, Sir Percy?”

It was with an effort that Finn kept himself from glancing toward the door. He would simply have to brazen it out. He hoped that Cobra was on the ball. With difficulty, he put a smile on his face and started walking toward Chauvelin’s table.

“Odd’s life!” he said. “Chauvelin, isn’t it?”

“I am so pleased that you remembered,” said Chauvelin.

“Imagine running into you again in a place like this,” Finn said. “I thought I’d just pop over and pick up some of your excellent French wine.” He extended his hand.

Chauvelin also extended his hand. There was a pistol in it.

“I think not,” said Chauvelin. His smile disappeared. “I am afraid that your diet will consist of bread and water from now on. However, you shall not have to put up with such an inconvenience for long. The guillotine has long been waiting for the Scarlet Pimpernel!”

There was total silence in the inn.

“I am sure you’ve got a pistol,” Chauvelin said. “Throw it down onto the floor. Carefully.”

Moving slowly, Finn pulled out his pistol, holding it gingerly with two fingers, and dropped it onto the floor.

“Now kick it away,” said Chauvelin.