The Scarlet Pimpernel: A Daring Tale of Courage - Chapter 13

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Dream Audio Books presents The Scarlet Pimpernel by baroness or Z,
chapter thirteen. Either or 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

(00:24):
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, like letters of fire before
her mental vision. If you wish to speak to me again,
I shall be in the supper room at one o'clock precisely.
The whole was signed with the hastily scrawled little device,
a tiny star shaped flower, which had become so familiar

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to her one o'clock precisely. It was now close upon eleven.
The last minuet was being danced, with Sir Andrew Folkes
and beautiful Lady Blakeney leading the couples through its delicate
and intricate figures. Close upon eleven of the handsome Louis
fifteen clock upon his Ormolu bracket seemed to move along
with maddening rapidity. Two hours more and her fate and

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that of our man would be sealed in two hours.
She must make up her mind whether she will keep
the knowledge so cunningly gained to herself and leave her
brother to his fate, or whether she will wilfully betray
a brave man whose life was devoted to his fellow men,
who was noble, generous, and above all unsuspecting. It seemed
a horrible thing to do. But then there was armand Arman,

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too was noble and brave. Armn too was unsuspecting. And
our man loved her, would have willingly trusted his life
in her hands. And now, when she could save him
from death, she hesitated. Oh it was monstrous. Her brother's kind,
gentle face, so full of love for her, seemed to
be looking reproachfully at her. You might have saved me, Margot,

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he seemed to say to her. And you chose the
life of a stranger, a man you do not know,
whom you have never seen, and preferred that he should
be safe, whilst you say, meet the guillotine. All these
conflicting thoughts raged through Marguerite's brain, while with a smile
upon her lips, she glided through the graceful mazes of
the minuet. She noted with that acute sense of hers

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that she had succeeded in completely allying Sir Andrew's fears.
Her self control had been absolutely perfect. She was a
finer actress at this moment and through the whole of
this minuet, than she had ever been upon the boards
to the Comedy Francais. But then, a beloved brother's life
had not depended upon her histrionic powers. She was too
clever to overdo her part, and made no further allusions

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to the supposed Bierre Doux which had caused Sir Andrew
folks at an agonizing five minutes. She watched his anxiety
melting away under her sunny smile, and soon perceived that
whatever doubt may have crossed his mind at the moment,
she had, by the time the last bars of the
minuet had been played, succeeded in completely dispelling it. He
never realized in what a fever of excitement she was,

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what effort it cost her to keep up a constant
ripple of fatal conversation. When the minuet was over, she
asked Sir Andrew to take her into the next room.
I have promised to go down to supper with his
Royal Highness, she said, But before we part, tell me,
am I forgiven, forgiven? Yes, confess I gave you a
fright just now. But remember I am not an englishwoman,

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and I do not look upon the exchanging of a
bier dou as a crime. And I vow I'll not
tell my little Suzanne. But now tell me, shall I
welcome you at my water party on Wednesday? I am
not sure, Lady Blakeney, he replied evasively. I may have
to leave London to morrow. I would not do that
if I were you, she said earnestly. Then, seeing the
anxious look reappearing in his eyes, she added gaily, no

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one can throw a ball better than you can, Sir Andrew.
We should so miss you on the bowling green. He
had led her across the room to one beyond, where
already His Royal Highness was waiting for the beautiful Lady Blakeney.
Madame Supper awaits us, said the Prince, offering his arm
to Marguerite. And I am full of hope. The Goddess
Fortune has frowned so persistently on me at hazard that

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I look with confidence for the smiles of the Goddess
of beauty. Your Highness has been unfortunate at the card tables,
asked Marguerite as she took the prince's arm. A most
unfortunate Blakeney, not content with being the richest among my
father's subjects, has also the most outrageous luck. By the way,
where is that inimitable wit? I vow, Madam, that this
life would be but a dreary desert without your smiles

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and his sallies. End of Chapter thirteen. Dream Audio Books.
Hopes you have enjoyed this program.