In the dim light of the carriage she found herself face-to-face with a rather intimidating man, dressed in a military style but not a soldier. His eyes moved coldly over her, making her extremely self-conscious, a feeling she did not enjoy.
She decided to retain what little control she had left over the situation by not speaking until she was more certain of what was happening. The presence of the soldiers seemed to indicate something sinister, but the man’s manner across from her suggested something else. For his part, he offered no further conversation until they reached their destination. It was a government building. She began to feel a bit of panic, but resolved not to let it show. She would not go down without a fight.
The man stepped out of the carriage and offered his hand to her. She took it and followed him – it didn’t seem there was much choice. He led her to an office and pointed to a chair. She sat as he positioned himself behind the desk. Finally he broke the silence.
“You are aware, Mlle Jolin, that people have been put to death for less than what you have done tonight.”
He spoke evenly and with assurance. She tried to match his tone.
“And what is it I have done?”
His eyes grew harder, if such a thing were possible. “Don’t play games with me, citizen. Stealing money from the government is treason. All material formerly belonging to the aristocracy is now government property. This evening, the former servant of the Marquis de Mansart was persuaded to part with information concerning that man’s hidden possesions. He thought he was giving it to the Marquis’ lost son. But you and I both know that Charles de Mansart was guillotined in Boulogne some time ago. It seems unlikely to me that he should show up tonight to claim his inheritence, don’t you think?”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you,” she responded, returning his steely gaze. “I don’t know anyone by that name, and I have no such information.”
“Of course you don’t, since you passed it off in exchange for a ridiculously small sum of money. Do not lie to me.”
He got up and opened the door. A soldier stood outside. The man motioned towards her and the soldier entered. Within seconds, the bag of coins sat on the man’s desk. The soldier exited and the man sat once more.
“There is really no need to be so uncooperative,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I do not wish to see you without your head, or even in jail. I have brought you here tonight to ask for your help.”
She had been braced for the worst, so these words caught her off guard. “My help? How could I be of use to you, citizen?”
“I have been watching you for some time,” he told her. “You are a clever spy, good at disguise, willing to take risks. And yet you never take the prize for yourself, contenting yourself instead with junk like this.” He threw the bag of coins back to her.
She decided she had no alternative but to believe what he was saying and see where it would lead. “I enjoy a challenge. The money is not important.”
He smiled then, but it was not a pleasant thing. It sent chills through her. “That is good to hear. I have a challenge for you, citizen. A challenge worthy of the most capable spy, the most clever detective. You have, of course, heard of the Scarlet Pimpernel.”
It was a statement rather than a question. She nodded her assent. There was hardly a soul in Paris who had not.
“You also know, then, that so far our government has been unable to stop him, because we do not know who he is. What I propose to you, citizen, is this. I shall overlook this evening’s activities, and all that have gone before it, if you agree to work with me to unmask this villian.”
There was a venom in his voice as he spoke, and she was fully aware of the only alternative to agreeing to his suggestion. “That is a most generous offer. I accept.”
The man stood and offered his hand. “Very good. You may go for now. Come to me here tomorrow night, and I shall give you the details. If you fail to return, Gabrielle, you shall be put before the tribunal, who, I assure you, will not be as forgiving as I have been.”
She shook his hand and moved to the door. “You have my word, Citizen…”
“Chauvelin.”