Marguerite hardly knew what to say or think.

She had always mistrusted this woman with her theatrical ways and stagy airs, from the very first moment she saw her in the tent on the green: and she did not wish to run counter against her instinct, in anything pertaining to the present crisis.

And yet in spite of her mistrust the actress' vehement words found an echo in the depths of her own heart.

How well she knew that tyranny of which Candeille spoke with such bitterness! Had she not suffered from it, endured terrible sorrow and humiliation, when under the ban of that same appalling tyranny she had betrayed the identity--then unknown to her--of the Scarlet Pimpernel?
Therefore when Candeille paused after those last excited words, she said with more gentleness than she had shown hitherto, though still quite coldly: "But you have not yet told me why you came back here to-night?
If Citizen Chauvelin was your taskmaster, then you must know all that has occurred." "I had a vague hope that I might see you." "For what purpose ?" "To warn you if I could." "I need no warning." "Or are too proud to take one....

Do you know, Lady Blakeney, that Citizen Chauvelin has a personal hatred against your husband ?" "How do you know that ?" asked Marguerite, with her suspicions once more on the qui-vive.