Once more he paused and looked down upon his unwilling interlocutor,
who, with muscles straining against the cords that held him, and with
eyes nearly starting out of their sockets in an access of fear and of
rage, was indeed presenting a pitiful spectacle.

"I dare say that by now, citizen," the brigand continued imperturbably,
"you will have guessed who I am. You and I have oft crossed invisible
swords before; but this, methinks, is the first time that we have met
face to face. I pray you, tell my dear friend M. Chauvelin that you have
seen me. Also that there were two facts which he left entirely out of
his calculations, perfect though these were. The one fact was that there
were two Paul Moles--one real and one factitious. Tell him that, I pray
you. It was the factitious Paul Mole who stole the ring and who stood
for one moment gazing into clever citizen Chauvelin's eyes. But that
same factitious Paul Mole had disappeared in the crowd even before your
colleague had recovered his presence of mind. Tell him, I pray you, that
the elusive Pimpernel whom he knows so well never assumes a fanciful
disguise. He discovered the real Paul Mole first, studied him, learned
his personality, until his own became a perfect replica of the miserable
caitiff. It was the false Paul Mole who induced Jeannette Marechal to
introduce him originally into the household of citizen Marat. It was he
who gained the confidence of his employer; he, for a consideration,
borrowed the identity papers of his real prototype. He again who for a
few francs induced the real Paul Mole to follow him into the house of
the murdered demagogue and to mingle there with the throng. He who
thrust the identity papers back into the hands of their rightful owner
whilst he himself was swallowed up by the crowd. But it was the real
Paul Mole who was finally arrested and who is now lingering in the
Abbaye prison, whence you, citizen Fouquier-Tinville, must free him on
the instant, on pain of suffering yourself for the nightmares of your