Orakel Classics
The Scarlet Pimpernel
The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy, prepared as a public-domain Orakel edition with 31 chapter-aware companion links.
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CHAPTER I.: PARIS: SEPTEMBER, 1792
CHAPTER I.: PARIS: SEPTEMBER, 1792 from The Scarlet Pimpernel. A surging, seething, murmuring crowd of beings that are human only in name, for to the eye and ear they seem naught but savage creatures, animated by vile passions and by the lust of vengeance and of hate. The hour, some little time before sunset, and the place, the West Barricade, at the very spot where, a decade later, a proud tyrant raised an undying monument to the nation’s glory and his own
Open2CHAPTER II.: “THE FISHERMAN’S REST”
CHAPTER II.: “THE FISHERMAN’S REST” from The Scarlet Pimpernel. In the kitchen Sally was extremely busy—saucepans and frying-pans were standing in rows on the gigantic hearth, the huge stock-pot stood in a corner, and the jack turned with slow deliberation, and presented alternately to the glow every side of a noble sirloin of beef. The two little kitchen-maids bustled around, eager to help, hot and panting, with cotton sleeves well tucked up above the dimpled elbows, and
Open3CHAPTER III.: THE REFUGEES
CHAPTER III.: THE REFUGEES from The Scarlet Pimpernel. Feeling in every part of England certainly ran very high at this time against the French and their doings. Smugglers and legitimate traders between the French and English coasts brought snatches of news from over the water, which made every honest Englishman’s blood boil, and made him long to have “a good go” at those murderers, who had imprisoned their king and all his family, subjected the queen and the royal
Open4CHAPTER IV.: THE LEAGUE OF THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL
CHAPTER IV.: THE LEAGUE OF THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL from The Scarlet Pimpernel. They all looked a merry, even a happy party, as they sat round the table; Sir Andrew Ffoulkes and Lord Antony Dewhurst, two typical good-looking, well-born and well-bred Englishmen of that year of grace 1792, and the aristocratic French comtesse with her two children, who had just escaped from such dire perils, and found a safe retreat at last on the shores of protecting
Open5CHAPTER V.: MARGUERITE
CHAPTER V.: MARGUERITE from The Scarlet Pimpernel. In a moment the pleasant oak-raftered coffee-room of the inn became the scene of hopeless confusion and discomfort. At the first announcement made by the stable boy, Lord Antony, with a fashionable oath, had jumped up from his seat and was now giving many and confused directions to poor bewildered Jellyband, who seemed at his wits’ end what to
Open6CHAPTER VI.: AN EXQUISITE OF ’92
CHAPTER VI.: AN EXQUISITE OF ’92 from The Scarlet Pimpernel. Sir Percy Blakeney, as the chronicles of the time inform us, was in this year of grace 1792, still a year or two on the right side of thirty. Tall, above the average, even for an Englishman, broad-shouldered and massively built, he would have been called unusually good-looking, but for a certain lazy expression in his deep-set blue eyes, and that perpetual inane laugh which seemed to disfigure his strong,
Open7CHAPTER VII.: THE SECRET ORCHARD
CHAPTER VII.: THE SECRET ORCHARD from The Scarlet Pimpernel. Once outside the noisy coffee-room, alone in the dimly-lighted passage, Marguerite Blakeney seemed to breathe more freely. She heaved a deep sigh, like one who had long been oppressed with the heavy weight of constant self-control, and she allowed a few tears to fall unheeded down her
Open8CHAPTER VIII.: THE ACCREDITED AGENT
CHAPTER VIII.: THE ACCREDITED AGENT from The Scarlet Pimpernel. The afternoon was rapidly drawing to a close; and a long, chilly English summer’s evening was throwing a misty pall over the green Kentish
Open9CHAPTER IX.: THE OUTRAGE
CHAPTER IX.: THE OUTRAGE from The Scarlet Pimpernel. A beautiful starlit night had followed on the day of incessant rain: a cool, balmy, late summer’s night, essentially English in its suggestion of moisture and scent of wet earth and dripping
Open10CHAPTER X.: IN THE OPERA BOX
CHAPTER X.: IN THE OPERA BOX from The Scarlet Pimpernel. It was one of the gala nights at Covent Garden Theatre, the first of the autumn season in this memorable year of grace
Open11CHAPTER XI.: LORD GRENVILLE’S BALL
CHAPTER XI.: LORD GRENVILLE’S BALL from The Scarlet Pimpernel. The historic ball given by the then Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs—Lord Grenville—was the most brilliant function of the year. Though the autumn season had only just begun, everybody who was anybody had contrived to be in London in time to be present there, and to shine at this ball, to the best of his or her respective
Open12CHAPTER XII.: THE SCRAP OF PAPER
CHAPTER XII.: THE SCRAP OF PAPER from The Scarlet Pimpernel. Marguerite suffered intensely. Though she laughed and chatted, though she was more admired, more surrounded, more fêted than any woman there, she felt like one condemned to death, living her last day upon this
Open13CHAPTER XIII.: EITHER—OR?
CHAPTER XIII.: EITHER—OR? from The Scarlet Pimpernel. The few words which Marguerite Blakeney had managed to read on the half-scorched piece of paper, seemed literally to be the words of Fate. “Start myself to-morrow. . . .” This she had read quite distinctly; then came a blur caused by the smoke of the candle, which obliterated the next few words; but, right at the bottom, there was another sentence, which was now standing clearly and distinctly, like letters of fire,
Open14CHAPTER XIV.: ONE O’CLOCK PRECISELY!
CHAPTER XIV.: ONE O’CLOCK PRECISELY! from The Scarlet Pimpernel. Supper had been extremely gay. All those present declared that never had Lady Blakeney been more adorable, nor that “demmed idiot” Sir Percy more
Open15CHAPTER XV.: DOUBT
CHAPTER XV.: DOUBT from The Scarlet Pimpernel. Marguerite Blakeney had watched the slight sable-clad figure of Chauvelin, as he worked his way through the ball-room. Then perforce she had had to wait, while her nerves tingled with
Open16CHAPTER XVI.: RICHMOND
CHAPTER XVI.: RICHMOND from The Scarlet Pimpernel. A few minutes later she was sitting, wrapped in costly furs, near Sir Percy Blakeney on the box-seat of his magnificent coach, and the four splendid bays had thundered down the quiet
Open17CHAPTER XVII.: FAREWELL
CHAPTER XVII.: FAREWELL from The Scarlet Pimpernel. “Your ladyship will be so tired,” said the poor woman, whose own eyes were half closed with sleep. “It is past five
Open18CHAPTER XVIII.: THE MYSTERIOUS DEVICE
CHAPTER XVIII.: THE MYSTERIOUS DEVICE from The Scarlet Pimpernel. The day was well advanced when Marguerite woke, refreshed by her long sleep. Louise had brought her some fresh milk and a dish of fruit, and she partook of this frugal breakfast with hearty
Open19CHAPTER XIX.: THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL
CHAPTER XIX.: THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL from The Scarlet Pimpernel. At what particular moment the strange doubt first crept into Marguerite’s mind, she could not herself afterwards have said. With the ring tightly clutched in her hand, she had run out of the room, down the stairs, and out into the garden, where, in complete seclusion, alone with the flowers, and the river and the birds, she could look again at the ring, and study that device more
Open20CHAPTER XX.: THE FRIEND
CHAPTER XX.: THE FRIEND from The Scarlet Pimpernel. Less than half an hour later, Marguerite, buried in thoughts, sat inside her coach, which was bearing her swiftly to
Open21CHAPTER XXI.: SUSPENSE
CHAPTER XXI.: SUSPENSE from The Scarlet Pimpernel. It was late into the night when she at last reached “The Fisherman’s Rest.” She had done the whole journey in less than eight hours, thanks to innumerable changes of horses at the various coaching stations, for which she always paid lavishly, thus obtaining the very best and swiftest that could be
Open22CHAPTER XXII.: CALAIS
CHAPTER XXII.: CALAIS from The Scarlet Pimpernel. The weariest nights, the longest days, sooner or later must perforce come to an
Open23CHAPTER XXIII.: HOPE
CHAPTER XXIII.: HOPE from The Scarlet Pimpernel. “Faith, Madame!” said Sir Andrew, seeing that Marguerite seemed desirous to call her surly host back again, “I think we’d better leave him alone. We shall not get anything more out of him, and we might arouse his suspicions. One never knows what spies may be lurking around these God-forsaken
Open24CHAPTER XXIV.: THE DEATH-TRAP
CHAPTER XXIV.: THE DEATH-TRAP from The Scarlet Pimpernel. The next quarter of an hour went by swiftly and noiselessly. In the room downstairs, Brogard had for a while busied himself with clearing the table, and re-arranging it for another
Open25CHAPTER XXV.: THE EAGLE AND THE FOX
CHAPTER XXV.: THE EAGLE AND THE FOX from The Scarlet Pimpernel. Marguerite’s breath stopped short; she seemed to feel her very life standing still momentarily whilst she listened to that voice and to that song. In the singer she had recognised her husband. Chauvelin, too, had heard it, for he darted a quick glance towards the door, then hurriedly took up his broad-brimmed hat and clapped it over his
Open26CHAPTER XXVI.: THE JEW
CHAPTER XXVI.: THE JEW from The Scarlet Pimpernel. It took Marguerite some time to collect her scattered senses; the whole of this last short episode had taken place in less than a minute, and Desgas and the soldiers were still about two hundred yards away from the “Chat
Open27CHAPTER XXVII.: ON THE TRACK
CHAPTER XXVII.: ON THE TRACK from The Scarlet Pimpernel. Never for a moment did Marguerite Blakeney hesitate. The last sounds outside the “Chat Gris” had died away in the night. She had heard Desgas giving orders to his men, and then starting off towards the fort, to get a reinforcement of a dozen more men: six were not thought sufficient to capture the cunning Englishman, whose resourceful brain was even more dangerous than his valour and his
Open28CHAPTER XXVIII.: THE PÈRE BLANCHARD’S HUT
CHAPTER XXVIII.: THE PÈRE BLANCHARD’S HUT from The Scarlet Pimpernel. As in a dream, Marguerite followed on; the web was drawing more and more tightly every moment round the beloved life, which had become dearer than all. To see her husband once again, to tell him how she had suffered, how much she had wronged, and how little understood him, had become now her only aim. She had abandoned all hope of saving him: she saw him gradually hemmed in on all sides, and, in despair, she gazed
Open29CHAPTER XXIX.: TRAPPED
CHAPTER XXIX.: TRAPPED from The Scarlet Pimpernel. She did not know how long she was thus carried along, she had lost all notion of time and space, and for a few seconds tired nature, mercifully, deprived her of
Open30CHAPTER XXX.: THE SCHOONER
CHAPTER XXX.: THE SCHOONER from The Scarlet Pimpernel. Marguerite’s aching heart stood still. She felt, more than she heard, the men on the watch preparing for the fight. Her senses told her that each, with sword in hand, was crouching, ready for the
Open31CHAPTER XXXI.: THE ESCAPE
CHAPTER XXXI.: THE ESCAPE from The Scarlet Pimpernel. Marguerite listened—half-dazed as she was—to the fast-retreating, firm footsteps of the four
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