A/N: Oh, by the way, I forgot to add that I love reviews! Please feel free to leave some for me. Thanks!

Pt III

I was still repeating these words as I fumbled with the buttons of a hideously ragged garment, crouching with Percy and five others in a derelict old cottage some days later. Percy had a map spread out on the ground around which we all sat and on which he was detailing us his plans for the rescue of the D'Auvigné family: a Viscomte and his young wife and child.

"Now that the disguises have been distributed," Percy began, "everyone listen carefully to your instructions."

I felt my stomach tense as I heard the words. The long awaited and all-important instructions were finally upon me. The words that my life and honor depended upon. I leaned forward closer to concentrate my attention fully on the matter.

"The success of the scheme depends on two factors," he continued. "First, the actual rescue of the family from the Temple prison, then second, the speedy conveyance of the refugees across the countryside to where the Daydream awaits. The initial phase will require three of you to take positions in these locations here, and here…"

Something sharp bit me in the back of the neck, followed in quick succession by a bite to my side and several to my legs. I slapped at these, only to provoke more bites in various locations on my person. Annoyed and disturbed, I picked through my ragged excuse of a shirt and discovered the offenders responsible for the biting: fleas. Of course there would be fleas! I had been loath enough to don this filth as it was, casting aside my own fine attire only after a great deal of persuasion, and had I known of this infestation I would never have let a thread of it touch me. Where on earth had Percy gotten this miserable outfit anyway? I attempted to brush the disgusting little vermin off me but was interrupted as I remembered I needed to be listening to the instructions. Once again, I turned my attention to Percy and tried to ignore the continued biting.

"…and that will be the rendezvous point. Here is where I, Ffoulkes, Dewhurst, Glynde and the D'Auvigné family will meet Hastings, Devinne, and Worthsbyfeld with the carriage they will have procured as previously discussed. The timing is crucial…"

Another fleabite and another slap. Demme but those little beasts could really attack from anywhere! What was that about me helping to procure a carriage?

"But remember, if anything should go amiss, meeting at the rendezvous point is key, from there we may alter our plans if necessary. I -"

"Damn!" I swore as yet another flea bit me, interrupting Percy entirely and causing everyone to look my way.

"Anything the matter, Worthsby?" Percy inquired.

"Yes!" I whined, "Do you know, Blakeney, that these rags are filled with vermin? I can't take an-another moment of it I tell you!"

"Poor old Wordsbegone," smirked St. John Devinne from his position next to Andrew Ffoulkes. "Did you pick the one with the fleas?"

I bristled at the remark and grew a shade redder. Lord St. John Devinne, Earl of Welhaven, had never been a friend of mine. We had gone to school together at Harrow in our boyhood and shared the same dormitory where the spoiled young fellow had made me the easy butt of all his pranks and cruel jokes. 'Wordsbegone' was only one of his several names for me. I had always managed to keep my cautious distance from him even in Percy's circle of friends, but now realized, with some dread, that I would not be able to avoid him so easily in the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel.

"They all have fleas, Johnny!" Antony Dewhurst laughed at him. "Don't bother pretending yours don't! I should know, I was the one who scavenged up all these wretched cast-offs!"

"And that was a demmed unsporting way to talk to a good fellow like Charlie," Glynde added.

"What?" Devinne exclaimed with sarcastic surprise. "I've been calling him that since we were boys. He doesn't mind it I dare say!" He looked at me, obviously requesting my confirmation of his statement.

"Th-that's right," I grinned weakly, suppressing the heated words I would have preferred. As much as it was a kind thought of Glynde to stand up for me like that, I rather disliked others fighting my battles – particularly one I had been fighting and losing for so long – somehow it was much worse if they succeeded where I consistently failed.

Percy seemed not to miss a single thought in my mind and pressed on with the original subject at hand – the one thing I longed he would do. "Very well, you all have your instructions then. Are there any questions?"

Were there any questions? I had perhaps a million, but voiced the most concerning one, "Er, yes, that is to say, where is the rendezvous? I seem to have missed that part."

Devinne poorly suppressed a snort of laughter, and Sir Andrew gave me a look even more doubtful of my abilities than before, seeming to say, 'Did the sorry fellow understand anything at all?', but Blakeney was quite patient about it, and proceeded to show me once more on the map. "From where you will be coming with the carriage you will take the west road, cross two bridges, then cut across the field bordered by a grove of oak trees. There will be a stand of elm trees and this is where you will wait with Hastings and Devinne for me and the others to meet you. Have you got it now?"

I nodded thankfully but refrained from asking any other questions. I had risked enough scorn as it was. Maybe I could just follow Hastings and Devinne's lead and figure my way out through the rest of it.

Soon, I was tramping with the two across the soggy countryside in the direction of the small town of le Bré, or some other such French sounding name – can't quite remember the exact one. Catching snatches of Hastings and Devinne conversing amongst themselves revealed that we were commissioned to steal the mayor's carriage and team, it apparently being the fastest for miles around. Otherwise, Devinne spent most of the time talking about how he knew this area of France like the back of his hand, how he could speak French like a native, and all other such sorts of tediousness that left me more or less preoccupied with battling the last skirmishes of the fleas in my shirt. At last we arrived at the outskirts of the little town where we quickly spotted our quarry. Here was some good luck for us, the mayor's carriage was standing just outside the town hall with its team of four black horses harnessed and waiting. All we would have to do would be to drive it away. Of course, as Hastings pointed out, there were the driver and footman to consider, as well as the town citizens who might raise the alarm. A moment's further observation, however, revealed that luck was yet again in our favor, as the driver and footman, apparently tired of waiting by the carriage, slouched off to have some drinks at the café across the street.

"Splendid," Hastings murmured, gathering Devinne and me around him, "here's our plan. Worthsby, can you drive a carriage?"

"I -"

"Doubtfully," Devinne interrupted.

"Can you speak French?" Hastings pressed.

"Well -"

"Not a word," Devinne interrupted again, "unless you've been practicing since our schooldays!"

Hastings made a point of acting as though everything had been answered properly and continued. "Very well, here is what we shall do. Devinne, you'll drive and I will untie the horses. Worthsby, you take this rope and pass it through the handles of the town hall doors, tying them so that they won't open readily, thereby buying us more time to escape. It will all have to happen in one swift coordinated move, however. So, first, Worthsby will make his way to the door and begin his job as inconspicuously as possible, Devinne and I will approach the carriage nonchalantly from the other way. Worthsby, as soon as the doors are secure, raise your hand to signal us, then run like a madman for the carriage for at that selfsame moment, I will loose the horses and Devinne will take the driver's seat. We'll be at a gallop in under five seconds, with Devinne and me on the driver's seat and Worthsby either inside the carriage or on the footman's step. There will be no stopping until we reach the rendezvous point, though we may slow a bit to preserve the horses once out of chasing distance. Is everything clear?"

I nodded and took the rope as Devinne nudged me and smirked.

"Think you can manage to tie a knot, Worthless?" he murmured in my ear.

I knew my response would be nothing but stammered idiocy, so I said nothing to this and grimly set off to do my part. The street grew very long and menacing, the further I got from my companions, and the old, scuffed doors of the town hall rose like a great challenging beast. Failure leered at me, and my mouth grew dry, my hands shook and my knees weakened. All you have to do is tie a knot, I told myself, you can tie knots. You're making much out of nothing. You can do this. Just tie the knot. All this and more I emboldened myself with, finally attaining my goal. I slipped the rope through the two brass handles of the oaken double doors and fumbled with the ends, soon succeeding in tying a complex series of very secure knots. It was done! I looked eagerly over my shoulder and noted Devinne and Hastings were in their positions, awaiting my signal. I gave it quickly, raising my hand and sprinting toward the carriage as were my orders.

The two responded like lightning and all looked like it would be a great success, however, about half a foot into my dash I was choked around my midsection and whipped round to face the doors I had tied. What on earth? I stared aghast at my handiwork and realized that the rope which formed the belt holding up my oversized breaches had somehow found its way into my hands as I had tied the knots of the rope through the handles. I was impregnably fastened to the doors! Fear coursed through my veins as I tore at the ropes, seeking to extricate myself. I didn't care if I undid all my splendid efforts, I just wanted to be free!

It all happened in one terrible, perfectly timed, disastrous moment. My knots gave way, I pulled back to escape, the double doors swung open from the force, and the sounds of a carriage clattering away thundered off behind me. I was promptly treated to the sight of an entire town council leaping from their seats in the exposed main room of the town hall and yelling as they ran toward the doors, pointing at the fast-disappearing carriage. I turned and ran after the carriage too, waving and shouting with the best of them.

"Hastings! Devinne!" I hollered, pelting after them as fast as I could go. "Wait for me!"

Hastings' head appeared over the top, raising himself up from his perch on the driver's seat and grinning mischievously. He waved his hat and laughed triumphantly like a lusty adventurer at the rabble chasing after them, obviously delighted with the success of his plan. Then he saw me and his face froze with a look of horror. "Worthsby!" he called in disbelief.

"Wait for me!" I cried again, running harder.

Hastings took in the situation grimly. If they stopped, we would all be caught and the whole plan would fail. There was just no way to put the carriage within my reach without making it accessible to the entire mob of angry French citizens. I would have to be left behind. "We'll be back for you!" He called to me as the carriage pulled away. "Try to make your way to the rendezvous!"

Fortunately, the French were too busy chasing the carriage to notice my interaction with the thieves and gave me no trouble as I ran alongside them, pressing on as far as my legs would carry me. The carriage was soon lost to sight, but still I tramped on along with a few stubborn townspeople. Eventually, even these too gave up and turned back, shrugging at me as I staggered onward in my pursuit. At last I couldn't run anymore and my gait deteriorated into a feeble stroll as I gasped for air and tried to make sense of the landscape. The rendezvous…the all-important rendezvous. What a good thing it was that I had made sure Blakeney told me how to get to it. But shouldn't I have come upon a bridge by now? Was I even on the west road? Doubts swarmed round my head like flies and my pace slowed yet further as uncertainty forbade me to make speed in what might be the wrong direction. Suddenly, the sound of galloping horses approached me from behind and I turned around to find that I was being surrounded by a squadron of French soldiers.

"Citoyen!" The bedraggled officer hailed me. "Une voiture ne passe par cette voie?"

I stared blankly. Obviously he had asked some sort of question. Demmed if I knew what it was though.

"Citoyen!" he repeated, more harshly. "Une voiture!"

I was loath to make an answer, but I feared the officer would only get angrier if I didn't. Perhaps it was best to chance my French. "B-bohnjoor, Mohnsoor," I grinned, "C-c-como sav-v-vah?"

"Il est un idiot," murmured one of the soldiers to the officer.

"Ou un espion anglais," returned the officer, staring at me dubiously.

I had understood at least that either I was an idiot or an English spy. I opted for the former. "Wee. Jay swee un idiot," I affirmed.

I was an idiot all right, of that they seemed certain, but only an English idiot could pronounce French that badly. "You Eengleesh!" the officer declared. "Where eez you leader?"

"M-my leader?" I choked, discarding my French entirely as my secret was out, "I-I d-don't have one!" This was not looking good at all.

"You part of band of Eengleesh spies!" The officer insisted, "You help steal coach to rescue Ci-devant Viscomte D'Auvigné and ees fameely! Tell us where zey are and we no keel you!"

It was idiotic of me, but there was nothing else to do. I turned and ran.

The next thing I knew one of the soldiers had overtaken me on his horse and struck me on the head with the flat of his saber. Just like that I was captured. The soldiers seized me and dragged me off the road where they could interrogate me further.

I believe I have mentioned before that I am a coward? Well, nothing had changed, and I was quite a despicable wreck of whimpering tears by the time the officer accosted me again.

"Where ees you leader?" he yelled in my face. "Who ees he? Tell me queek!"

This was terrible. I had never wanted to be in any of this mess in the first place, and now I was going to die in it – and in the worst clothes for miles around. I couldn't bear it and wept harder.

"Nom de nom!" The officer swore. "Speeks to me or you die!" He followed this order with a strong blow of his fist to my face.

I cried out pitiably at the pain of my tender skin crushing under the force and reeled backward. Why was I putting up resistance like this? Resistance never did me much good before. I was never strong enough to keep it up. Eventually I would cave in to cowardice like I always did, only I would be in much worse shape by the time it finally happened. I lowered my eyes in shame and cried some more. Blood was dripping from my nose and onto my revolting shirt. Somehow this was fascinating to me and I studied it with interest. It occurred to me then that I hadn't just taken a blow for myself. I had taken it for Percy, for the league, for the innocent victims of the Revolution, for honor itself! Something snapped inside of me – besides my nose bone – and suddenly I was filled with a spirit quite unknown to me, but what could only be the lusty, courageous spirit known broadly by the name of Adventure. What glorious fun it was to tramp about the countryside in flea-infested rags, thwarting Frenchies and serving a heroic leader! Pride for Blakeney and for England swelled in my bosom. I might die today, but I would not go without a fight!

"Allons!" The officer continued to yell. "I no have patieence for zees!"

I laughed in his face and swung my fist into it, singing at the top of my lungs, "God save our gracious King! Long live our noble King!"

Two of the soldiers sprang up in the officer's place and after a mutual exchange of blows, I surprisingly gave as good as I got. I was actually starting to enjoy myself, even as I was collecting more bruises and cuts with every jab of my fist.

"God save the King!" I continued merrily. Several of the soldiers had pounced me at once now and I thrashed to free myself. "Send him victorious!" I belted out, knocking another Frenchie over and receiving a stunning blow to the back of my skull, "Happy and glo-orious!" I fought through the fog swimming in my head. More French soldiers were popping up out of nowhere and I proceeded to deal with them in the same way as their unfortunate predecessors. "Long to-o reign over us!" I caught one of the fellows full on the jaw and knocked him out cold with a single blow. "God save the King!" My consciousness was slipping from me as my head couldn't take much more of this sort of activity, but I still had enough left in me to take a swing at a rather big fellow pinning me down.

"Good God, Worthsby!" he exclaimed. "Cease fire! It's me, Blakeney!"

"Blakeney?" I gasped, feeling as though my senses must have taken their leave of me altogether, "How on earth?"

"Well, you patriotic devil, Hastings and Devinne told us what happened when they reached the rendezvous," he explained, "We disguised ourselves as soldiers and came back to find you in the clutches of the French. Though judging by your pugnacity with those soldiers, perhaps you didn't need our help as much as we'd thought. Not bad at singing either, what?"

My mind reeled, and a feeling of joy overtook me. Percy had kept his word to me. All would be well after all.

"Terribly sorry about all that," I grinned sheepishly as he helped me to my feet.

"Save your apologies for Devinne," Blakeney returned, nodding in the direction of the prostrate form of the supposed French soldier I had rendered unconscious. "I dare say his head will be sore for some time."

"That was Johnny?" I laughed delightedly. "Demdest stroke of luck, eh what?"

Percy's reply sounded very distant, and I could just make out that he was giving orders to Dewhurst and Ffoulkes to tie up the squadron of French soldiers and steal their horses. The next thing I knew I was waking up in the back of a jostling cart, staring at trees and a lovely blue sky.

"He certainly has more spirit than I credited him for, I'll say that much," I could hear what sounded like Sir Andrew's voice quite nearby.

"The lad has the heart of a lion," replied what sounded like Blakeney. "He's proved that this afternoon, more than amply."

"But nevertheless," Andrew continued, "I'm not sure he's cut out for this sort of thing. Now might be a good time to offer old Worthsby an honorary membership and return him to England for help on the home front, away from the hairbreadth danger we will continue to face here."

If such an offer had been made to me, even as recently as that morning, I would have sprang at the chance. But now things were different. Now the league was everything to me and I would die if I couldn't be a part of it. "No!" I cried, sitting bolt upright in the cart. My head responded by aching horribly, but I pressed on. "Please, Blakeney! D-don't send me away! It is monstrous unthinkable. Not now when I've only just realized what grand sport it all is! I'll try better next time, and I'll always follow your orders without question, nor will I shy away from danger. I'll wear the filthiest disguises – and I'll – I'll even practice my French! You will find in me one of your most loyal followers! Only please give me a second chance to prove myself worthy! I won't let you down next time."

Blakeney and Ffoulkes were sitting on the driver's box of the cart and turned to look at me as I spoke.

"What do you think, Andrew?" Blakeney grinned. "Just this morning I might have approved your proposal, but after today, I'd rather lose a hand than lose Charlie."

"I suppose a good showing like the one he made deserves another chance," Andrew acknowledged, winking at me.

A sudden groaning at my side made me realize that Devinne was laying in the straw next to me.

"What's going on?" he croaked.

"The fun is over and we're off to the secret hideout," Ffoulkes explained. "Glynde and Everingham are taking the coach with the D'Auvigné family to the Daydream and the whole rescue has been a marvelous success! We've even got Worthsby back."

"No, I meant, what were you all talking of just now?" he muttered.

"Only that we've all agreed that Worthsby remains in the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel," Ffoulkes replied.

"Damnation," Devinne groaned. "I was afraid of that."

"Don't worry, Johnny!" Blakeney called cheerfully. "We won't let him punch you again!"

I laughed with the others and began to feel like I had entered a glorious new beginning in which all my old troubles would be left far behind me.

It was a happy thought, and indeed, it turned out to be true, but little did I know the new troubles to come were destined to outdo all my others combined. There were many new and strange misadventures awaiting my performance. For indeed, it was only the beginning…