The Scarlet Pimpernel

"The Scarlet Pimpernel works in the dark, and his identity is only known under the solemn oath of secrecy to his immediate followers."

""The Scarlet Pimpernel?" said Suzanne, with a merry laugh. "Why! what a droll name! What is the Scarlet Pimpernel, Monsieur?" She looked at Sir Andrew with eager curiosity. The young man's face had become almost transfigured. His eyes shone with enthusiasm; hero-worship, love, admiration for his leader seemed literally to glow upon his face. "The Scarlet Pimpernel, Mademoiselle," he said at last "is the name of a humble English wayside flower; but it is also the name chosen to hide the identity of the best and bravest man in all the world, so that he may better succeed in accomplishing the noble task he has set himself to do." "Ah, yes," here interposed the young Vicomte, "I have heard speak of this Scarlet Pimpernel. A little flower — red? — yes! They say in Paris that every time a royalist escapes to England that devil, Foucquier-Tinville, the Public Prosecutor, receives a paper with that little flower designated in red upon it."

"We seek him here, we seek him there, Those Frenchies seek him everywhere. Is he in heaven? — Is he in hell? That damned, elusive Pimpernel"

"It is only when we are very happy, that we can bear to gaze merrily upon the vast and limitless expanse of water, rolling on and on with such persistent, irritating monotony, to the accompaniment of our thoughts, whether grave or gay. When they are gay, the waves echo their gaiety; but when they are sad, then every breaker, as it rolls, seems to bring additional sadness, and to speak to us of hopelessness and of the pettiness of all our joys."

"Sing! Swing! Savor the sting! As she severs you Madame Guillotine. Slice! Come paradise! You'll be smitten with Madame Guillotine!"

"We all are caught in the middle of one long treacherous riddle. Can I trust you? Should you trust me too?... We shamble on through this hell taking on more secrets to sell 'til there comes a day when we sell our souls away."

"We seek him here,we seek him there, Those Frenchies seek him everywhere! Is he in heaven? Is he in hell? Where is that damn elusive Pimpernel! He gives the Frenchies nothing but frustration Popping in and out each week! Spoiling every lovely execution LA! What cheek!"