The other suppressed a cry of triumph.

"At them, my men!" he said in a whisper, "and you, citizen, thank your
stars that we have not come too late."

"These men..." whispered Hercule. "I had my suspicions."

"Aristocrats, citizen," rejoined the commander of the little party, "and
one of them is that cursed Englishman--the Scarlet Pimpernel."

Already the soldiers, closely followed by Hercule, had made their way
through our cabbage-patch back to the house.

The next moment they had made a bold dash for the barn. There was a
great deal of shouting, a great deal of swearing and some firing, whilst
Hercule and I, not a little frightened, remained in the coffee-room,
anxiously awaiting events.

Presently the group of soldiers returned, not the ones who had first
come, but the others. I noticed their leader, who seemed to be
exceptionally tall.

He looked very cheerful, and laughed loudly as he entered the coffee-
room. From the moment that I looked at his face I knew, somehow, that
Hercule and I had been fooled, and that now, indeed, we stood eye to eye
with that mysterious personage who is called the Scarlet Pimpernel.

I screamed, and Hercule made a dash for the door; but what could two
humble and peaceful citizens do against this band of desperate men, who