Well, everyone, this is it. This is the final chapter of this little romp through the flowers. Sure, I threw in an epilogue, but that doesn't really count.I really hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. By all means, let me know how you liked the story as a whole. So, please review and tell me what you think and enjoy the end!
Disclaimer: Scarlet Pimpernel. Not mine. Get reading.
Falcon in the Dive
Chapter10: I'll Forget You
No apologies were spoken, nor were any explanations given to the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel of why the traitorous Marguerite St. Just was once again in the arms of the Pimpernel himself. Yet all that mattered to Percy's loyal friends was that their leader was happy, and never in their lives had they seen him happier. He and his wife were acting as they did before they were married and the passionate love they exhibited for each other put the League at ease. There was no reason to doubt Percy; if he could trust Marguerite, the rest of the men found it best to trust in his judgment of the woman.
An hour after nightfall, the carriage began to draw near the city of Calais and the joyous and celebratory occupants of the carriage as a faint smell of smoke filled the air.
Percy's full attention focused on the smoke; something must have been going on. Without a word to the League, he slid out of the window and pulled himself on top of the carriage so he could get a look at the surrounding area. His sharp, blue eyes instantly fell upon a distant yellow light in their line of direction. He looked directly overhead and saw the deep blue of the night sky, but as the carriage moved forward, the stars disappeared as jet black covered the heavens and the smell of smoke thickened.
Quickly looking straight ahead, he nearly fell backwards as flames were now clearly visible. Though they were at least five miles away, it was clear as day that Calais was burning. Percy quickly jumped into the driver's position and grabbed the reins form the driver and urged the horses to full speed toward the city.
As the speed of the carriage increased drastically, the League became worried as the smoke became heavier. Armand carefully climbed out of the window to join Percy. All his questions died in his throat as he looked ahead and gazed at the inferno no more then two miles away. "My God. Percy, what do we do?"
"I don't know." Percy whispered absently. "Look for survivors, find a clear path to the dock, and pray that the Daydream hasn't burned down too. There isn't anything else we can do."
Percy stopped the carriage about a quarter of a mile outside the burning city. Even before the horses had stopped, the door had flung open and Tony and Andrew jumped out of the carriage with Marguerite in tow. Lightning flashed across the sky and the sound of thunder filled the air as it began to rain slightly. "Look, men!" Percy shouted in good spirits. "The weather has decided to side with us."
"What do you want us to do, Percy?" Andrew asked as he, Tony, and the St. Just's ran up to meet their leader.
"Andrew, I want you to stay with Marguerite. Try and find a way to the harbor. If it's not on fire, I want the two of you to get on the Daydream. But be careful! If my wife is so much as scratched, I'll flail you within an inch of your life. Tony, Armand, you two come with me. We're looking for people."
Marguerite flung herself into Percy's arms. "Be safe, my love" she softly whispered.
Percy smiled down at the woman and kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry. I'll be fine. I'm the Pimpernel, remember? And with you to come back to, how could I not be safe?" He reluctantly released her and ran to the carriage and removed four swords. "Alright, men." he said determinately as he gave each man a weapon and attached a sword to his own belt. "Be careful. God speed."
The group split up, Andrew and Marguerite going around the flames and heading to the coast and the Pimpernel and the other two men rushing headlong into the fire.
As if protected by some unholy power, Chauvelin stood on the roof of one of the burning buildings, but the flames never touched him. He had seen Blakeney run into the city, and an evil smile slid across his face.
"Everything is going as planned, I assume." the young Chauvelin whispered by the agent's ear.
"It is. The Pimpernel has just entered the city."
"Perfect. Let him come to you."
"And what of his men?"
The young boy shrugged. "Do what you must, but don't let them distract you. Sir Percy is your first priority."
Chauvelin's sharp eyes caught Percy and his men running through the streets directly below him, stopping at every body they came across. He drew his sword, the black steel reflecting the flames, and silently jumped off the roof and landed mere feet behind the oblivious Pimpernel.
Andrew and Marguerite ran all the way to the coast at the outer edge of the city only to find no safe way to the harbor. The fire was burning all the way to the sea. However, they were able to confirm that the Daydream was untouched by the flames. "Well, at least the ship is alright." Andrew panted as he tried to catch his breath.
Marguerite looked sadly at the city, praying that her husband was alright, but she was nearly instantly struck with terror. A large, red moon hung over the burning city, and standing on a flaming roof silhouetted against the blood colored light was the unmistakable figure of Agent Chauvelin. "Andrew!" she cried as she grabbed his arm and pulled him to a place where he could see the man. "Look." she whispered as she directed Andrew's eyes to the agent.
As he laid his eyes on the man, Chauvelin drew his sword and disappeared from sight. "Oh God." Andrew whispered in horror.
"Percy!" Marguerite cried as she took off running toward the city.
"Marguerite, wait!" Andrew called after her as he caught up with her and grabbed her arm
Marguerite reeled on Andrew and glared viciously at him. "I will not stand here and do nothing when Percy may be killed in there. Let me go, Lord Ffoulkes."
Andrew was too stunned to speak, but he knew she was right and he let her go. As she ran off, he faithfully followed her into the city that, despite the now heavy rain, was still blazing.
"Damn it all!" Percy shouted as he examined yet another corpse.
"It's no good, Percy." Armand said as he walked to his friend. "They're all dead."
"None of them were killed by the fire, Percy." Tony said quietly. "Come look at this."
Percy looked curiously at his friend and walked over to observe his friend's discovery. As soon as he looked at what Tony was pointing at, he reeled back in disgust as he gazed at what at one point could have been a man. "Dear Lord! How could…this is awful…" the Pimpernel stuttered in disbelief.
"This is the worst of it, but they all bear similar wounds." Tony said urgently. "I doubt that there is anyone alive. Come on. Let's get out of here."
Percy reluctantly nodded. "Alright. Let's go."
At that moment, Percy thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye and felt movement behind him. Instinctively drawing his sword, he quickly spun around and there was an ear-piercing ringing of steel clashing with steel as Percy's blade intercepted Chauvelin's mere inches from his head. The Pimpernel had no time to be surprised, for the second the agent's sword hit his, Chauvelin's blade was moving through the air to strike again.
The ferocity of the man's attack forced Percy right up next to one of the burning buildings, and it was only then that Armand and Tony were able to gather their wits about them and rush in to defend their leader.
Seeing the two men running toward him, Chauvelin jumped back slightly from his close quarters with the Pimpernel and swiftly buried his heel into Percy's chest, which sent the man through the burning wall and he landed dazed within the flaming room.
With the Pimpernel temporarily dealt with, Chauvelin turned his attentions on Tony and Armand. Quickly arching the wicked blade through the air, the tip of the sword buried into Tony's collarbone and slashed through his chest. With a gasp of pain, Tony went sprawling backward and was instantly knocked unconscious as his head struck the ground. Without missing a beat, Chauvelin slipped behind Armand and drove the pommel of his sword into the base of young St. Just's head. As Armand dropped to his knees and fell face down in the street, Chauvelin slowly walked through the hole that the Pimpernel had created in the building's wall.
Percy lay on the ground completely incapacitated for a few moments. Flames leaped around him, and as the heat increased, he came to his senses and grabbed his sword and pushed himself off the ground. As he stood, he gripped his abdomen in pain. As he removed his hand, his eyes widened in fear as he saw that his hand was covered in blood. The impact from hitting the floor must have reopened the bullet wound.
The idea of fighting this man was not a pleasant one; he had already proven himself to be a stronger man then the Pimpernel. But the thought of fighting Chauvelin while injured was terrifying. Percy shivered slightly as he realized that he couldn't win; he may as well be dead now, for in a few moments he would be.
Malicious laughter filled the room and Percy shivered despite the heat. "Hurt, Pimpernel?" Chauvelin asked quietly as he walked into the room, completely soaked form the rain.
"Not so much that I can't deal with you." Percy curtly responded much more confidently then he felt.
"Good." the agent said as he smiled viciously and lunged at the Pimpernel.
This time, however, Percy was prepared for the attack and managed to block and parry every blow.
Chauvelin smiled cockily as his sword locked with Percy's. "Having fun, Blakeney?" he whispered inches from the man's face.
Percy was too winded to respond. Fighting with this man was terribly tiring, and it wasn't helping that his strength was leaving his body with his blood. He needed a plan very quickly. Trying to outrun or outfight the man was out of the question; the agent was clearly a powerhouse and possessed an extreme physical advantage. Either way, he was quite literally forced into a corner and had no choice but to try and get out of there; whether it was the extreme heat or the loss of blood that was making him light-headed, he didn't know, but he had to get out.
He quickly made an attempt to slip under Chauvelin's arm, but within seconds found the agent's other arm against his throat and he was viciously slammed against the blackened wall.
Chauvelin couldn't help laughing at the pitiful man before him. Did the fool really think he could get away? He drove his knee into the man's abdomen, deliberating aiming for the bloodstain on the Pimpernel's shirt and shivered in perverse delight as anguished screams pierced the air. He removed his arm from Percy's throat and allowed the man to double over in pain before he grabbed his shirt and threw the man through the opposite wall.
Marguerite and Andrew were running through the town desperately looking for Percy, Armand and Tony, but to no avail. The thunder and lightning had greatly increased in frequency and the rain was coming down in torrents, which began to put out the flames.
Suddenly, not thirty meters from where they stood, a limp figure fell through one of the building walls and landed lifelessly on the ground. Andrew and Marguerite were frozen to the spot; there was no mistaking that the man was Percy, and both were afraid to move for fear of discovering that the Pimpernel was devoid of life.
Their hopes lifted as Percy stirred slightly, but they filled with terror once again as an all too familiar dark figure walked out of the building and kicked the Pimpernel on to his back. Percy tried to push himself back up, but Chauvelin put his heel on his chest and savagely forced him back to the ground. The agent pressed the tip of the blade against Percy's throat and, raising the sword over his head, prepared to deal the final blow.
Andrew felt Marguerite tense and, despite the rain, he could clearly see the tears falling from her eyes. She was too stunned to move, and as she aguishly whispered her husband's name, something within Andrew snapped. This couldn't be happening. Not now, when they had so nearly escaped. Not now, when Percy and Marguerite had finally been reunited. Forgetting that he had a sword and throwing all caution away, Andrew dashed forward and just as the blade plummeted downward, he tackled Chauvelin and the two of them landed several feet away from the Pimpernel, the sword falling helplessly from the agent's hand.
Chauvelin was shocked beyond action as he slid across the ground, the sharp stones cutting into the bare flesh of his chest and back. He quickly recovered from his daze and became dangerously angry. Swiftly jumping to his feet, he turned his wrath upon the young Englishman that had temporarily stolen his moment of glory, and quickly retrieved his fallen weapon before advancing on the man.
Andrew didn't recover from the fall nearly as quickly as the agent did, and by the time he had gathered his wits, the enraged man was quickly striding toward him. Andrew scrambled to get to his feet, but Chauvelin stomped on his back, knocking the breath out of his lungs as he fell back to the ground.
Chauvelin reached down and entwined his fingers in Andrew's hair and viciously pulled him to his knees and savagely drove his knee into the man's back.
Andrew gasped in pain, for he had not the strength to scream and tears sprang to his eyes. He was going to die. He clenched his eyes shut and muttered a prayer as he felt the cold, sharp blade rest on his throat. "Please, God," he mumbled under his breath, "protect Percy and Marguerite. And let my poor Suzanne not grieve for me."
When Percy came to, he was being cradled by Marguerite and he looked up just in time to see Andrew beaten senseless. Percy gently pushed Marguerite away as he staggered to his feet and picked up his sword. "Marguerite, go. Hide." Percy whispered. It looked as if the woman would protest, so he quickly growled "Now!" and she quickly nodded and ran off and ducked into one of the houses that had stopped burning.
Percy stood up to his full height and shouted as loudly as he could "Chauvelin! Leave him alone! I'm the one you want!"
Chauvelin glared over his shoulder at the tall, proud Pimpernel and his grip on Andrew loosened. The man he held now was nothing to him; the only one he wanted was Percy Blakeney. However, he couldn't have this man interfering again. He brought his foot down with all his strength on Andrew's upturned heel and a distinct snapping could be heard before the young lord's screams filled the air. Removing the blade from the man's throat, Chauvelin threw Andrew to the ground and took off at a full sprint toward the Pimpernel.
Against his better judgment, Percy turned and ran at full speed away from the agent.
As both men raced through the streets, they passed the place where Marguerite had hidden. Unable to contain herself, she left her place and followed the two men she loved through the blackened remains of Calais.
Despite how weak he felt, Percy was doing an awfully good job holding the agent off and was even pulling away from him a bit. Just as he thought he might outrun Chauvelin, the Pimpernel skidded to a stop as he found himself face to face with a wall of flame that still burned strong despite the rain.
He quickly looked around for someplace else he could run, but the raging fire surrounded the courtyard in which he stood. He felt his heart sink in his chest as the agent slowly advanced upon him, and he realized that the dangerous game that he had been playing had come to an untimely end.
"Did you really think you could get away, Blakeney?" Chauvelin asked coldly. "And now I have you. Ready to die?"
Percy swallowed his fear and tried to catch his breath; he knew he was about to be killed and there was very little he could do about it. He was tired and injured; he didn't stand a chance against the agent, who didn't even appear to be breathing hard. He stood up tall and raised his weapon to eye level. "May we fight this as men of honor, Citizen Chauvelin?"
The agent smiled evilly as he too saluted his adversary. "But of course. En guard, Lord Blakeney."
Both men extended their weapons and lunged at each other and their swords clashed and locked. Chauvelin quickly jumped back and swung at Percy's stomach, but he parried the attack just before the agent's sword came in contact with his body.
Percy saw an opening and went on the offensive, swiftly stabbing at Chauvelin's shoulder; he didn't want to kill the man, just incapacitate him ling enough to get his men and wife aboard the Daydream.
Chauvelin easily blocked Percy's thrust, but the Pimpernel now had the agent on the defensive, so he continued with his assault, quickly stabbing and slashing at the man.
Chauvelin parried every movement Percy made with ease. His eyes slid out of focus for just a moment as he heard the boy's voice whisper in his ear "What are you doing? Get serious and stop playing with the man!" Chauvelin smiled viciously at Percy as their swords crossed, and the agent forced the Pimpernel's sword to the ground and slashed across his forearms.
Percy nearly screamed in pain, but stopped himself quickly as Chauvelin swiftly recoiled and arched his sword at his neck. He barely blocked the attack, and no sooner had the swords clashed, Chauvelin's weapon was cutting through he air to strike at the Pimpernel again.
Percy staggered back as the agent attacked him relentlessly, hardly able to move fast enough to parry the stabs and slashes. He couldn't understand what had happened; only moments ago he had been doing fairly well, then all of a sudden, Chauvelin's speed and strength increased tenfold. Percy felt himself grow quickly weary and was struck with the realization that he would be unable to continue fighting for much longer.
Marguerite watched the men fighting from behind one of the burnt buildings. Though at the beginning they had appeared to be evenly matched, the tide quickly turned in Chauvelin's favor. She gasped in fear for her husband's safety, but refrained from rushing in to aid him. There was no doubt that her presence would merely be a distraction that would get her husband killed. Marguerite closed her eyes and wept, praying silently that neither man would die.
Chauvelin savagely struck at the Pimpernel's head and Percy listlessly blocked, the force of the blow sending him sprawling to the ground. All of his energy had been drained and he tried desperately to keep up with the agent, but to no avail. He used his sword to help him to his feet and watched helplessly as Chauvelin rushed him with his sword raised and poised to deal the killing blow to the Pimpernel.
With the last of his strength, Percy moved his sword in what he believed would parry the blow, but when no steel struck his weapon, he knew that he had missed. Chauvelin stood inches from him and he closed his eyes tightly and waited for the final strike.
Percy stood there motionless for half a minute waiting for the end, but the strike never came. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at the agent in anticipation. Percy didn't exactly understand what was happening; Chauvelin's golden eyes were fixed visionless on the ground and he had dropped his weapon. He curiously looked over the agent and his eyes widened in horror as he saw the long shaft of his own weapon behind Chauvelin covered in blood.
Shock froze the Pimpernel where he stood as he looked at his blade buried to the hilt within the agent right beneath the breastbone. It wasn't until he felt the warm, thick liquid running over his hand that he managed to jump back in horror, swiftly drawing his blade out of the man's body.
Chauvelin had no idea what had happened; Blakeney's blade came out of nowhere. A sudden pressure filled his chest and he couldn't breathe. The pressure relieved as Percy jumped back and he felt all the strength instantly sapped from his body. He staggered as he tried to keep himself from falling, but dropped to his knees and was forced to lay his hands on the ground to keep from falling further.
His head shot up as he heard the young Chauvelin frantically yelling at him, but within a moment he could no longer hear the boy. He knew the child was speaking, but he could hear none of it. He watched the boy run near him and saw his eyes fill with terror as he slowly began to disintegrate. Within moments, the child was completely gone.
Chauvelin suddenly came to his senses and had no idea where he was or what was happening. He inclined his head and saw a steady stream of blood quickly falling from his chest into a very large pool of the substance on the ground beneath him. His lungs suddenly felt smaller and as his vision slid out of focus and he became light-headed, he fell to his side and lay still.
Marguerite felt as though her heart had been pierced as she watched her husband's blade sink into her lover's body. No longer able to contain herself, she dashed forward to the men but stopped suddenly as she stepped in blood that ran several feet from Chauvelin's body.
Percy stared at his wife heartbrokenly. "Marguerite, I'm sorry! I…I didn't mean to…it just…" Percy stopped suddenly as Marguerite began to weep in anguish and sank to her knees beside the fallen agent.
Marguerite reached out and gently stroked his face, trying to avoid gazing at the two rapidly bleeding wounds. Chauvelin whimpered quietly and his chest rose irregularly as he gasped for breath. Seeing that the man was still living, Marguerite stopped weeping and pulled him into her lap and gently wrapped her arm around his chest and held his head to her breasts, not noticing that her dress was very quickly soaked through with blood.
Percy quickly removed his tattered jacket and tore it into strips and handed them to Marguerite. She looked up thankfully at her husband and gently began to wrap the agent's wound.
Chauvelin's eyes slowly slid open and he found himself lying across Marguerite's lap, his head resting on her chest. Noticing that she was making an attempt to wrap his chest, he softly grabbed her hand and whispered, "Don't bother."
"Chauvelin, we can save you!" she cried as tears sprang to her eyes once again.
Chauvelin began to chuckle softly, but quickly dissolved into coughing which caused the blood to run out of his body much faster.
Marguerite watched in helpless despair as the color and heat left Chauvelin's body as quickly as his blood. She drew him closer to her and held the agent tightly. "Don't die, my love."
Chauvelin looked up into Marguerite's eyes. "Love?" He laughed shortly and whispered, "You don't love me." He leaned his head against her breasts and allowed himself to relax. "You never did."
Marguerite couldn't believe what she was hearing. He thought she never loved him. Oh, how wrong he was! She opened her mouth to speak, but tears choked her words.
"But I loved you." He said barely audibly as he gasped for the breath that was quickly leaving him. "Oh God, I loved you." He looked up at her with those pale yellow eyes that were now much paler as death settled upon him. "But you couldn't tell, could you? I've been awful to you. Blackmail, extortion, Marguerite, I've done nothing but use you." He suddenly tensed and buried his head against her chest. "I'm sorry."
The agent turned his half closed eyes on Percy, who still held the blood-covered sword. He grimaced slightly and whispered, "Damn you, Pimpernel." He coughed quietly before gently saying, "Take care of her, would you? Heaven knows you can do it better then I ever could."
Marguerite tensed as she felt Chauvelin's faint, weak heartbeat cease entirely and she let the tormented tears fall as she tightened her grip around the man in her arms.
Chauvelin whimpered slightly as he struggled for breath, and with the remainder of his strength, lifted his hand and gently brushed the woman's cheek. "I love you, Marguerite." he whispered under his breath as he lifted his head slightly and tenderly pressed his lips to hers.
Marguerite closed her eyes and softly returned her lover's kiss, but the moment was short lived, as after only a few seconds, Chauvelin's head dropped lifelessly to her chest and his hand fell back to the ground.
Tears welled up in her eyes again and she gently shook the agent. "Chauvelin?" She was met with no response and she wept harder then she ever had before, desperately crying "Chauvelin, my love, wake up! Wake up!" The man didn't move and she gripped him tighter and buried her head in his hair and wept uncontrollably.
Percy dropped his weapon and clenched his fists as tears fell from his eyes. He slowly approached his wife and knelt behind her, gently wrapping his arms around his shoulders. "I'm sorry, Marguerite." he gently said as he nuzzled her neck.
Marguerite looked lovingly at Percy and gazed down at the beautiful man in her arms and leaned her forehead against his. "Your child." she gently whispered. "I'm going to have your child, Chauvelin."
They didn't know how long they stayed like that, but Percy and Marguerite quickly looked up as two French soldiers rode up and dismounted, and Marguerite instantly recognized them to be Mercier and Coupeau. The two soldier's eyes darted around the burnt city frantically and looked in terror at the lake of blood on the ground. "What happened here?" Coupeau asked quietly.
"We arrived here and the entire city was burning." Percy said sadly. "My men and I went to look for survivors and we were attacked by Citizen Chauvelin. And I…" Percy choked on his words and could not bring himself to continue.
"You're the Pimpernel, correct, monsieur?" Mercier asked quietly. Percy slowly nodded and Mercier whispered, "Where are your men, Pimpernel?"
"Somewhere around the city. I do not even know if they are alive."
Coupeau knelt beside Chauvelin and laid his hand on the agent's chest but quickly drew his hand away as he felt that his leader was cold as ice. "My friend." Coupeau gently whispered as tears slowly came to his eyes.
Mercier looked at his fellow soldier and bowed his head as Coupeau began weeping over their leader's body. "Come, Pimpernel. Let us look for your men." he said quietly.
Percy looked at the man in astonishment. He was sure he would be struck down right there, or if not that, at the very least arrested. But here was one of the revolutionary soldiers, and enemy, offering to help him. He nodded slightly and stood up and slowly walked to the man's side.
"Coupeau," Mercier gently whispered, "take care of mademoiselle St. Just and Chauvelin, would you?"
Coupeau nodded slightly, but did not look away from his friend and leader.
Without another word, Percy and Mercier walked away to search for the three members of the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel.
Percy and Mercier returned within an hour with Tony, Armand and Andrew. Both Tony and Armand walked beside Percy, for neither man had been severely injured. The cut that Tony suffered was a glancing blow and Armand had merely been knocked unconscious.
Andrew, on the other hand, was being carried by Mercier, for he could not walk on his own. His entire foot had been crushed, and Percy had retired the young lord from the League as soon as he had seen him. It was painfully clear that Andrew would probably never walk again.
When they returned, Chauvelin lay on his back, perfectly straight with his hands laid neatly over one another on his stomach, and Coupeau and Marguerite had taken the time to clean the blood off of the departed agent.
Coupeau sat against one of the blackened houses gently holding Marguerite, the two of them softly crying. Percy slowly approached his wife and held his hand out to her. "Come, Marguerite." he whispered sadly. "Let's go home."
Marguerite took her husband's hand and as she rose to her feet, she cast a longing glance at Chauvelin's still form. "Percy, may I…"
Though she choked on her words, Percy understood and let her go.
Marguerite slowly walked to Chauvelin's side and knelt beside him, gently stroking his face. A few tears fell upon his face as she whispered "Goodbye, my love." and softly kissed him. Marguerite reluctantly pulled away from him as Percy laid his hand on her shoulder. As she and Percy walked away, she cast one last glance at Chauvelin before he faded out of view. She leaned her head on Percy's shoulder and renewed her weeping, for that was the last time she would ever see Chauvelin again.
With Mercier's assistance, Percy managed to get everyone settled on the Daydream, and they were ready to set sail for England within ten minutes. Marguerite and Percy stood on the dock and said their thank you's and goodbye's to Mercier. "Citizen," Marguerite asked quietly, "where will you bury him?"
Mercier sadly shook his head. "I don't know, mademoiselle. The Committee will probably want to give him a state funeral. I'll send you word when we know for sure."
She nodded slightly and uttered quiet thanks before turning to walk back on the Daydream.
"Mademoiselle St. Just! Wait!" Coupeau shouted as he ran on to the dock.
Marguerite faced the man and he gingerly handed her Chauvelin's jet-black sword nearly wrapped in his tricolor sash. "He…I think that he would have wanted you to have these." Coupeau said quietly. "You are one of the only things he ever talked about. He loved you so much."
Marguerite held the weapon close and laid her head on the sash and quietly wept. "Thank you, Coupeau." she whispered quietly.
"Let's go home, Margot." Percy said gently as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
"Pimpernel," Mercier said sternly, "you will have the good graces not to return to France for at least two weeks. Give us some time to grieve for the loss of this great man."
Percy nodded and said, "You have my word, Citizen."
"Thank you." he said quietly as he and Coupeau left the pimpernel and his wife and returned to tend to their esteemed leader.
Percy and Marguerite watched the two men leave and when they were out of sight, they walked aboard the Daydream and, at long last, sailed home to England.