“The second fact,” he went on with the same good-humoured pleasantry, “which our friend citizen Chauvelin had forgotten was that, though I happen to have aroused his unconquerable ire, I am but one man amongst a league of gallant English gentlemen.  Their chief, I am proud to say; but without them, I should be powerless.  Without one of them near me, by the side of the murdered Marat, I could not have rid myself of the ring in time, before other rough hands searched me to my skin.  Without them, I could not have taken Madeleine Lannoy’s child from out that terrible hell, to which a miscreant’s lustful revenge had condemned the poor innocent.  But while citizen Chauvelin, racked with triumph as well as with anxiety, was rushing from the Leridans’ house to yours, and thence to the Abbaye prison, to gloat over his captive enemy, the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel carefully laid and carried out its plans at leisure.  Disguised as men of the Surete, we took advantage of the Leridans’ terror to obtain access into the house.  Frightened to death by our warnings, as well as by citizen Chauvelin’s threats, they not only admitted us into their house, but actually placed Madeleine Lannoy’s child in our charge.  Then they went contentedly to bed, and we, before the real men of the Surete arrived upon the scene, were already safely out of the way.  My gallant English friends are some way out of Paris by now, escorting Madeleine Lannoy and her child into safety.  They will return to Paris, citizen,” continued the audacious adventurer, with a laugh full of joy and of unconquerable vitality, “and be my henchmen as before in many an adventure which will cause you and citizen Chauvelin to gnash your teeth with rage.  But I myself will remain in Paris,” he concluded lightly.  “Yes, in Paris; under your very nose, and entirely at your service!”

The next second he was gone, and Fouquier-Tinville was left to marvel if the whole apparition had not been a hideous dream.  Only there was no doubt that he was gagged and tied to a chair with cords:  and here his wife found him, an hour later, when she woke from her first sleep, anxious because he had not yet come to bed.

II

A QUESTION OF PASSPORTS

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.