The League of the Scarlet Pimpernel quotes

It was not, Heaven help us all! a very uncommon occurrence these days: a woman almost unsexed by misery, starvation, and the abnormal excitement engendered by daily spectacles of revenge and of cruelty.

They were to be met with every day, round every street corner, these harridans, more terrible far than were the men.

He belongs to the most bloodthirsty section of revolutionary brigands. His creed is pillage, murder, and revenge; and he chooses to declare that it is I who, by rejecting his love, drove him to these foul extremities. May God forgive him that abominable lie!

The evil we do, Monsieur, is within us; it does not come from circumstance.

I, in the meanwhile, was a happy wife. My husband, M. de Lannoy, who was an officer in the army, idolised me. We had one child, a boy—”

It was the factitious Paul Molé who stole the ring and who stood for one moment gazing into clever citizen Chauvelin’s eyes. But that same factitious Paul Molé had disappeared in the crowd even before your colleague had recovered his presence of mind.

Tell him, I pray you, that the elusive Pimpernel whom he knows so well never assumes a fanciful disguise.

He discovered the real Paul Molé first, studied him, learned his personality, until his own became a perfect replica of the miserable caitiff. It was the false Paul Molé who induced Jeannette Maréchal to introduce him originally into the household of citizen Marat.

Bibot was very sure of himself.

There never was, never had been, there never would be again another such patriotic citizen of the Republic as was citizen Bibot of the Town Guard.

Bibot was very sure of himself.

There never was, never had been, there never would be again another such patriotic citizen of the Republic as was citizen Bibot of the Town Guard.

And because his patriotism was so well known among the members of the Committee of Public Safety, and his uncompromising hatred of the aristocrats so highly appreciated, citizen Bibot had been given the most important military post within the city of Paris.

Having detained such persons, the patriot’s next duty was to hand them over to the Committee of Public Safety, who would then decide whether Madame la Guillotine would have the last word over them or not.

And the guillotine did nearly always have the last word to say, unless the Scarlet Pimpernel interfered.

The trouble was, that that same accursed Englishman interfered at times in a manner which was positively terrifying. His impudence, certes, passed all belief.

“Hush!” he muttered, “no more now.

The very snowflakes are made up of whispers that may reach those bloodhounds yet.

The English milor’ shall know of this. He will send you a message if he thinks fit.”

“No, milor. But, as Jean Baptiste said, the Sectional Committee know about Pierre. It is because of my son that I am suspect.”

The old man spoke quite quietly, very simply, like a philosopher who has long ago learned to put behind him the fear of death.

Nor did petite maman cry or lament. Her thoughts were for the brave milor who had saved her boy; but her fears for her old man left her dry-eyed and dumb with grief.

Laporte, it seems, was in the habit of seeing patients in his own house every evening after he had settled all his business for the day.

What a strange contradiction in the human heart, eh, monsieur? The tiger turned lamb for the space of one hour in every twenty-four⁠—the butcher turned healer.

How well the English milor had gauged the strange personality of that redoubtable man! Professional pride—interest in intricate cases—call it what you will—was the only redeeming feature in Laporte’s abominable character. Everything else in him, every thought, every action was ignoble, cruel and vengeful.

“How do I know that you are not one of those English spies?” he began.

“Take it that I am,” rejoined milor imperturbably, “and come and see the patient.”

Never had a situation been carried off with so bold a hand. Claude Lemoine declared that Laporte’s mouth literally opened for the call which would have summoned the sergeant of the guard into the room and ordered the summary arrest of this impudent stranger.

“He cannot see a crowd. The night is as dark as pitch.”

“He can see in the darkest night,” and the girl’s voice sank to an awed whisper, “and he can hear through a stone wall.”

Instinctively, Roger shuddered. The superstitious fear which the mysterious personality of the Scarlet Pimpernel evoked in the heart of every Terrorist had suddenly seized this man in its grip.

But the girl was only just eighteen, and he not many years older, and at that age, in spite of misery, sorrow, and dread, life always has its compensations.

Youth cries out to happiness so insistently that happiness is forced to hear, and for a few moments, at the least, drives care and even the bitterest anxiety away.

For Esther Vincent and her English lover there were moments when they believed themselves to be almost happy. It was in the evenings mostly, when she came home from her work and he was free to spend an hour or two with her.

“If you dare touch me, I’ll kill you!”

It was ludicrous, of course. A mouse threatening a tiger.

The very next moment Rateau had seized her hand and quietly taken away the knife. Merri shook himself like a frowsy dog.

Receipts for money? Compromising letters? No! Blank sheets of paper, all of them—all except the one which had lain tantalisingly on the top: the one receipt signed by citizen Hériot. Sir Percy laughed lightly:

“Did you really think, my good friend,” he said, “that I would be such a demmed fool as to place my best weapon so readily to your hand?”

“Your best weapon, Sir Percy!” retorted Chauvelin, with a sneer. “What use is it to you while we hold Lucile Clamette?”

“Let the man go unmolested? Citizen Chauvelin, think what you are doing!”

“I always think of what I am doing,” retorted Chauvelin curtly, “and have no need of outside guidance in the process.”

Then he turned once more to Tournefort. “You yourself, citizen,” he continued, in sharp, decisive tones which admitted of no argument, “will dismount as soon as you are inside the city. You will keep the gate under observation.