The-Scarlet-Pimpernel

lives of men, women, and even children from beneath thevery edge of that murderous, ever-ready guillotine.He even made her smile quite merrily by telling her ofthe Scarlet Pimpernel’s quaint and many disguises, throughwhich he had baffled the strictest watch set against him atthe barricades of Paris. This last time, the escape of theComtesse de Tournay and her children had been a veritablemasterpiece—Blakeney disguised as a hideous old marketwoman,in filthy cap and straggling grey locks, was a sightfit to make the gods laugh.Marguerite laughed heartily as Sir Andrew tried todescribe Blakeney’s appearance, whose gravest difficulty alwaysconsisted in his great height, which in France madedisguise doubly difficult.Thus an hour wore on. There were many more to spendin enforced inactivity in Dover. Marguerite rose from thetable with an impatient sigh. She looked forward withdread to the night in the bed upstairs, with terribly anxiousthoughts to keep her company, and the howling of thestorm to help chase sleep away.She wondered where Percy was now. The DAY DREAMwas a strong, well-built sea-going yacht. Sir Andrew had expressedthe opinion that no doubt she had got in the lee ofthe wind before the storm broke out, or else perhaps hadnot ventured into the open at all, but was lying quietly atGravesend.Briggs was an expert skipper, and Sir Percy handled aschooner as well as any master mariner. There was no dangerfor them from the storm.228The Scarlet Pimpernel