sister. I thank God that she never cared for him."

"They say that he herds with the wolves because of this
disappointment," said de Batz. "The whole pack is made up of men
who have been disappointed, and who have nothing more to lose.
When all these wolves will have devoured one another, then and
then only can we hope for the restoration of the monarchy in
France. And they will not turn on one another whilst prey for
their greed lies ready to their jaws. Your friend the Scarlet
Pimpernel should feed this bloody revolution of ours rather than
starve it, if indeed he hates it as he seems to do."

His restless eyes peered with eager interrogation into those of
the younger man. He paused as if waiting for a reply; then, as
St. Just remained silent, he reiterated slowly, almost in the
tones of a challenge:

"If indeed he hates this bloodthirsty revolution of ours as he
seems to do."

The reiteration implied a doubt. In a moment St. Just's loyalty
was up in arms.

The Scarlet Pimpernel," he said, "cares naught for your political
aims. The work of mercy that he does, he does for justice and for
humanity."

"And for sport," said de Batz with a sneer, "so I've been told."

"He is English," assented St. Just, " and as such will never own