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THE ELUSIVE PIMPERNEL 17

he had been killed, and if the Committee of Public Safety asked me questions about him, I was just to show the bit of paper and there would be no further trouble."

She had talked volubly, more than a little terrified at Merlin's scowls, and the attitude of Citizen Tinville, who was known to be very severe if anyone committed any blunders.

But the Citizeness — her name was Brogard, and her husband's brother kept an inn in the neighbourhood of Calais — the Citizeness Brogard had a clear conscience. She held a licence from the Committee of Public Safety lor letting apartments, and she had always given due notice to the Committee of the arrival and departure of her lodgers. The only thing was that if any lodger paid her more than ordinarily well for the accommodation, and he so desired it, she would send in the notice conveniently late, and conveniently vaguely worded as to the description, status, and nationality of her more liberal patrons.

This had occurred in the case of her recent English visitor.

But she did not explain it quite like that to Citizen Foucquier Tinville or to Citizen Merlin.

However, she was rather frightened, and produced the scrap of paper which the Englishman had left with her, together with the assurance that when she showed it there would be no further trouble.

Tinville took it roughly out of her hand, but would not glance at it. He crushed it into a ball and then Merlin snatched it from him with a coarse laugh, smoothed out the creases on his knee, and studied it for a moment.

There were four lines of what looked like poetry, written in a language which Merlin did not understand. English, no doubt.

But what was perfectly clear, and easily comprehended by anyone, was the little drawing in the corner.