He and twenty troopers were galloping down the great North Road not far
from Barency. When they overtook the six of us they drew rein, and the
officer gave me this note for citizen Bibot and fifty francs if I would
deliver it tonight."

"Give me the note!" said Bibot calmly.

But his hand shook as he took the paper; his face was livid with fear
and rage.

The paper had no writing on it, only the outline of a small scarlet
flower done in red--the device of the cursed Englishman, the Scarlet
Pimpernel.

"Which way did the officer and the twenty troopers go," he stammered,
"after they gave you this note?"

"On the way to Calais," replied the other, "but they had magnificent
horses, and didn't spare them either. They are a league and more away by
now!"

All the blood in Bibot's body seemed to rush up to his head, a wild
buzzing was in his ears....

And that was how the Due and Duchesse de Montreux, with their servants
and family, escaped from Paris on that third day of Nivose in the year I
of the Republic.