stands for loyalty, for honour, and for indomitable
courage. Think you he would sacrifice his honour to obtain your mercy?
Remember Boulogne and your discomfiture!' All of which, dear lady, is
perfectly charming and womanly and enthusiastic, and I, bowing my humble
head, must own that I was fooled in Calais and baffled in Boulogne.
But in Boulogne I made a grave mistake, and one from which I learned a
lesson, which I am putting into practice now."

He paused a while as if waiting for her reply. His pale, keen eyes
had already noted that with every phrase he uttered the lines in her
beautiful face became more hard and set. A look of horror was gradually
spreading over it, as if the icy-cold hand of death had passed over her
eyes and cheeks, leaving them rigid like stone.

"In Boulogne," resumed Chauvelin quietly, satisfied that his words were
hitting steadily at her heart--"in Boulogne Sir Percy and I did
not fight an equal fight. Fresh from a pleasant sojourn in his own
magnificent home, full of the spirit of adventure which puts the essence
of life into a man's veins, Sir Percy Blakeney's splendid physique was
pitted against my feeble powers. Of course I lost the battle. I made the
mistake of trying to subdue a man who was in the zenith of his strength,
whereas now--"

"Yes, citizen Chauvelin," she said, "whereas now--"

"Sir Percy Blakeney has been in the prison of the Conciergerie for
exactly one week, Lady Blakeney," he replied, speaking very slowly, and
letting every one of his words sink individually into her mind. "Even
before he had time to take the bearings of his cell or to plan on his
own behalf one of those remarkable escapes for which he is so justly
famous, our men began to work on a scheme which I am proud to say
originated with myself. A week has gone by since then, Lady Blakeney,
and during that time a special company of prison guard, acting under the
orders of the Committee of General Security and of Public Safety, have
questioned the prisoner unremittingly--unremittingly, remember--day and
night. Two by two these men take it in turns to enter the prisoner's
cell every quarter of an hour--lately it has had to be more often--and
ask him the one question, 'Where is little Capet?' Up to now we have
received no satisfactory reply, although we have explained to Sir Percy
that many of his followers are honouring the neighbourhood of Paris with
their visit, and that all we ask for from him are instructions