I Will Repay

The Scarlet Pimpernel (chronological order) #3

by Emmuska Orczy

I Will Repay is a novel written by writer Baroness Emmuska Orczy and is set during some of French Revolution's bloodiest days. Being the first sequel to The Scarlet Pimpernel, it is story which is full of intrigue and high romance. The main theme of this work is falling in love with the one individual in the whole wide world who you have sworn to destroy. This thought provoking work is highly recommended for those who enjoy the writings of author Baroness Emmuska Orczy and also for those who are discovering her writings for the first time.

Genres: Classics, Historical Fiction, Fiction, Adventure, Historical, Romance, France

Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1906

About the author

Full name: Emma ("Emmuska") Magdolna Rozália Mária Jozefa Borbála Orczy de Orczi was a Hungarian-British novelist, best remembered as the author of THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL (1905). Baroness Orczy's sequels to the novel were less successful. She was also an artist, and her works were exhibited at the Royal Academy, London. Her first venture into fiction was with crime stories. Among her most popular characters was The Old Man in the Corner, who was featured in a series of twelve British movies from 1924, starring Rolf Leslie.

Baroness Emmuska Orczy was born in Tarnaörs, Hungary, as the only daughter of Baron Felix Orczy, a noted composer and conductor, and his wife Emma. Her father was a friend of such composers as Wagner, Liszt, and Gounod. Orczy moved with her parents from Budapest to Brussels and then to London, learning to speak English at the age of fifteen. She was educated in convent schools in Brussels and Paris. In London she studied at the West London School of Art. Orczy married in 1894 Montague Barstow, whom she had met while studying at the Heatherby School of Art. Together they started to produce book and magazine illustrations and published an edition of Hungarian folktales.

Orczy's first detective stories appeared in magazines. As a writer she became famous in 1903 with the stage version of the Scarlet Pimpernel.

Reviews

[Rick Davis · Rating 2 out of 5]

I really enjoyed "The Scarlet Pimpernel". I also liked the sequel, "The Elusive Pimpernel". These books are goofy and silly, but they work because the author clearly knows what she's writing and avoids any pretensions to the contrary.

Unfortunately, it appears that Baroness Orczy wanted to overstep her limits in "I Will Repay". The story centers on a young girl who is caught between opposing forces, her faithfulness to her father, and her love for the man she has sworn to kill. Dickens could have taken this story and produced something truly great. In Orczy's hands, however, it comes off as flat, one-dimensional melodrama.

But what about Sir Percy Blakeney? Surely his witty foppery and brilliant strategies make it all worthwhile and fun! Sadly, the Scarlet Pimpernel himself is only an incidental character throughout most of the book. He pops in once or twice, and then shows up in the last two chapters for the resolution. This would be like going to see a James Bond movie and finding that, apart from a couple of cameos, the title character doesn't actually do anything until the last ten minutes of the film.

If I want to read moving human literature set against the backdrop of the French Revolution, I will read "A Tale of Two Cities" by Charles Dickens. If I want to read exciting and intelligent adventure set during the French Revolution, I will read "Scaramouche" by Raphael Sabatini. If I want to read an action thriller set during the French Revolution, I will read a Scarlet Pimpernel book.

Allow me to illustrate with an admittedly nerdy analogy. There is room in the world for movies like Ang Lee's "Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon" that are beautiful, moving and thoughtful. There is room in the world for movies like the 2008 "The Incredible Hulk" that are fun, perhaps even a bit serious, but with tongue firmly in cheek. There is no room in the world for Ang Lee's 2003 "Hulk," which tries to achieve both and thus falls flat due to a lack of self-awareness.

In the same way, there is room in the world for "A Tale of Two Cities" and for "The Scarlet Pimpernel", but there is no room for a book like "I Will Repay".

[Katelyn Buxton · Rating 4 out of 5]

[There may be some vague spoilers for The Scarlet Pimpernel in the following.]

I Will Repay is North and South meets The Scarlet Pimpernel in all the best ways. It’s a high-stakes adventure set during the French Revolution instead of the Industrial one, with all the aggravating misunderstandings that usually crop up in old-fashioned romances like this. (You know, the kind that makes a book really, really hard to put down.)

Juliette Marny is another strong yet feminine female character reminiscent of Marguerite Blakeney, who (quite frankly), really messed things up from a misguided sense of justice, but was equally ready to do everything in her power to make them right again. I loved her! I think character arcs like that are sorely lacking in today’s stories. So often characters make mistakes and wallow in them, instead of moving forward like a warrior, admitting that they were wrong, and trying to set things right.

Paul Déroulède, on the other hand, is not the swashbuckling type of Hero/Love Interest from The Scarlet Pimpernel. He’s quiet, but fearless, and can always be relied upon to do what’s right. He rose above the degeneracy of his people during the Revolution, and made them feel human again by retaining a human heart himself.

The plot—while not very different from The Scarlet Pimpernel in the main points—felt a lot grittier than its predecessor. Most of the previous book was spent in England, and we only got a very narrow glimpse at France towards the end. The entirety of I Will Repay is spent in France during one of the bloodiest years of the Revolution. I think Orczy did a horribly beautiful job of underscoring the brutality of the time.

As for content, there are various passing references made to sexual immorality and rape (very brief, and not at all explicit), some “demming” on the part of the Pimpernel, (although less than the first book), drinking, and one female character takes accusations of “wantonness” upon herself in order to save the man she loves. (She was completely innocent of such charges.)

In closing, I think it’s fair to say that if you liked The Scarlet Pimpernel, you’ll like I Will Repay. It takes the same formula for glorious adventure and recreates it in an entirely new way. I also appreciated the fact that “true love” was shown to be seeing someone’s faults and loving them anyway, as well as the theme that vengeance belongs to the Lord. It’s a worthy addition to the series!

[Katerina · Rating 3 out of 5]

Nel non troppo lontano 2018 lessi il primo libro della serie La Primula Rossa, romanzo dei primi del novecento di cappa e spada con alcune peculiarità. Tipo che ha inventato la tipologia di personaggio "milionario che si finge idiota e la notte va a combattere l'ingiustizia".
Tipo che Zorro è ispirato alla Primula Rossa, e Batman è ispirato a Zorro, quindi possiamo ringraziare Emma Orczy se abbiamo Batman.
E no, questa è una cosa che non smetterò mai di dire perché è troppo bella.
Nel primo volume avevamo conosciuto Percy e Marguerite, i nostri eroi: l'intrepida Primula Rossa, che rischia la vita per salvare gli innocenti dal Terrore e Madame la Guillotine, e la sua amata. Abbiamo conosciuto i loro problemi, le loro sofferenze, i loro nemici.
Cosa ci sarà in serbo per loro, nel futuro?
Credo che lo scopriremo nel prossimo libro perché qui vediamo solo Percy, e di sfuggita: questa volta siamo a Parigi, nemmeno in padella ma dentro la brace per direttissima, e possiamo quindi conoscere le persone che la Primula Rossa si impegna tanto a salvare.
I protagonisti, in Voto di sangue, sono Juliette de Marny e Paul Déruléde: ex nobile che tira a campare lei, borghese capace di accattivarsi le simpatie delle masse lui, i due sono legati dal Destino. Quello che non ti lascia scampo che solo un'autrice che gioca col romance all'inizio del '900 può mettere in campo: prima della Rivoluzione, infatti, Paul ha ucciso in duello il fratello di Juliette, e il padre del ragazo (comprensibilmente) impazzito dal dolore ha fatto giurare alla figlioletta di vendicarlo.
La cosa bella, per me, è che la Orczy ci spiega diligentemente perché la fanciulla si senta così obbligata a mantenere il suo voto, fatto in una situazione così estrema: al momento del giuramento aveva quattordici anni ed era in preda allo shock e agli ormoni. Dopo... diciamo che Juliette è cresciuta all'inizio sotto una campana di vetro, poi in un convento, e poi accudita dalla vecchia balia.
La nostra eroina ha, di base, l'istinto di sopravvivenza di un sasso e il buon senso di uno scolapasta.
Immaginate i danni che può fare durante gli anni del Terrore
La storia è, sostanzialmente, un enemies to lovers, un caro e vecchio cliché che mi ha fatto piacere ritrovare: ai tempi della pubblicazione non era ancora abusato, e qui viene esplorato con una certa innocenza.
Voto di sangue è una storia dove il peso degli anni si sente in modo maggiore rispetto al precedente volume: i personaggi, per quanto sviluppati in una maniera che raggiunge la sufficienza, hanno alcune caratteristiche date dal periodo in cui sono stati scritti che a me non piacciono molto, come la volontà quasi esasperata di attribuire loro caratteristiche positive, che investe principalmente Juliette. La ragazza, infatti, è quella più complessa e combattuta, ma invece di lasciarle il suo arco di crescita, la sua confusione, il suo essere sinceramente una stupida ragazzina che commette errori e poi cerca di rimediare, la Orczy cerca di spiegarci in tutti i modi come e perché ogni sua singola azione sia data dalla purezza del suo animo e dall'educazione assurda che ha ricevuto.
È stata la prima volta che per apprezzare un personaggio ho dovuto ignorare quello che l'autore mi diceva di lui, perché tagliando fuori la voce nel narratore che si intromette di prepotenza tra il lettore e la storia, quello che abbiamo è una protagonista femminile che cresce e matura, e affronta dilemmi morali che a noi sembreranno anche strani, ma per lei hanno senso.
Paul, invece, ha il problema di essere una brava persona che fa del suo meglio in una situazione difficile che in queste storie è una caratterizzazione che corteggia sempre pericolosamente la noia.

Ad ogni modo si nota come Emma Orczy fosse un'autrice capace perché quando il rischio della noia si fa concreto (c'è un limite di pagine entro cui i patemi d'amore e i dubbi interiori possono essere interessanti) ecco arrivare la Primula Rossa, e si parte con travestimenti, duelli, sotterfugi e salvataggi al limite dell'impossibile, che poi è anche il motivo per cui io questa serie la voglio leggere tutta.

In definitiva: un secondo volume leggermente inferiore al primo, ma comunque scritto bene e divertente, nel giusto numero di pagine: niente brodo allungato, qui.
Qui abbiamo nobili inglesi che salvano gente dalla ghigliottina for the lulz.

[Dafne · Rating 3 out of 5]

Voto di sangue è il secondo libro appartenente al ciclo della Primula Rossa; in realtà sarebbe il terzo libro di questo suddetto ciclo ma in Italia è stato stampato come secondo volume.
Questo romanzo è ambientato nella Parigi del 1793, nel cosiddetto periodo del Terrore; periodo durato più o meno un anno caratterizzato dal fortissimo sospetto che tutti i cittadini potessero essere dei traditori della Rivoluzione e che le potenze straniere, da un momento all'altro, invadessero la Francia per liberare il re e la sua famiglia, detenuti in carcere dai rivoluzionari.
È in questo clima di sospetto e inquietudine che si svolge la vicenda raccontata nel romanzo.
Paul Déroulède, è un cittadino deputato, amico e benefattore del popolo, amatissimo per la sua generosità e per il suo animo nobile; egli è un uomo buono e giusto, un vero e proprio idolo delle folle che il Comitato di Salute Pubblica e gli anarchici più radicali non possono toccare se non vogliono incorrere nella rabbia popolare. Un bel giorno alla sua porta chiede aiuto una giovane ragazza dai capelli biondi e viso angelico, ricorsa dai reietti del quartiere di Déroulède che ha fatto infuriare di proposito con l'unico scopo di farsi salvare da quest'ultimo e introdursi così in casa del deputato. La giovane fanciulla è l'aristocratica Juliette de Marny, figlia del defunto marchese de Marny.
Nel passato della ragazza si nasconde però un terribile segreto. Dieci anni prima, il fratello di Juliette venne ucciso in un duello (leale) e suo padre, accecato dal dolore e ormai anziano e malato, fece giurare alla giovanissima Juliette, sul letto di morte del fratello, che lei avrebbe trovato l'assassino e vendicato la morte del fratello.
E ora dopo dieci anni Juliette ha finalmente trovato l'assassino del fratello ed è proprio colui a cui ha chiesto aiuto: il deputato Paul Déroulède.

Il giuramento a cui si riferisce il titolo del romanzo cambia e influenza la vita della giovane protagonista, che sarà sempre soggetta lungo tutta la narrazione fino allo scioglimento finale ad un conflitto interiore tra dovere familiare e amore, tra ragione e sentimento.
Voto di sangue è un romanzo gradevole, scorrevole, ben scritto, dal linguaggio semplice, dal ritmo serrato a tratti cinematografico, dalla trama lenta e in certi versi abbastanza prevedibile, con la presenza di alcuni colpi di scena che riescono a vivacizzare la vicenda.
Ho trovato molto belle le descrizioni dei paesaggi che ci permettono di immergerci nell'atmosfera del periodo, dandoci così un'interessante scorcio della Francia rivoluzionaria e del clima del periodo (si nota che dietro queste descrizioni c'è una grande lavoro di ricerca da parte della scrittrice). Non mi sono piaciuti, invece, i personaggi; gli ho trovati poco sviluppati e poco approfonditi, sono un po' superficiali e impalpabili.
Anche in questo secondo romanzo la primula rossa, che dovrebbe essere il protagonista di una serie che porta il suo nome, come nel primo volume non è pervenuta tranne che nei bellissimi capitoli finali. Quando compare Sir Percy la narrazione subisce una decisa svolta; se nella prima parte del romanzo vi sono molti patemi d'animo, gelosie, dubbi, romanticismo, poca azione e il ritmo è abbastanza lento, dopo la sua entrata in scena (negli ultimi cinque capitoli) il ritmo della narrazione si fa più serrato, più incalzante, più dinamico e assistiamo ad una serie di sotterfugi, travestimenti, intrighi, segreti e prodezze ingegnose degne della primula rossa.
Un libro piacevole ma che, secondo me, risente dello scorrere del tempo.

Madama ghigliottina era, innanzitutto, ecumenica per vocazione: le sue braccia scarne, tinte dal rosso del sangue, si aprivano ugualmente all'assassino e al ladro, all'aristocrazia di antico lignaggio e al proletario dei bassifondi.

[Schuyler · Rating 3 out of 5]

I've always loved the Scarlet Pimpernel novels. Now I find the dramatic superlatives amusing, but he's still a pretty dashing hero. Perhaps most interesting this time around is seeing the kind of ideal woman Orczy gives to her favored men. Marguerite in book one is described on various occasions as childlike, incredibly beautiful, and delicate. At the same time, Orczy wants her to attract the intellectual heights of France, and in moments of crisis she has the ability to be as "calm and clear-headed as any man." While Percy Blakeney uses innocent naivety and calculated reason as interchangeable masks, Marguerite makes the switches unwittingly and achieves reason only temporarily when it means saving Orczy's darling hero.

In I Will Repay, Juliette holds some of the same female characteristics, but Orczy expands her portrait to add intense spiritual fervor, something Juliette can only engage with passion, not reason. While Orczy attributes this to the Catholicism and the times, it also fits with the limited reasoning capabilities she's established for her women.

In fairness though, Juliette's lover, Deroulede is a dramatization of a man who loves without reason, allowing Orczy to contrast him with the chief virtues of her darling Scarlet Pimpernel. In Sir Percy's most moving speech, he warns Deroulede that love is a messy human transaction requiring forgiveness. But Orczy's follow-through on Percy's speech is half-hearted at best, for her couples constantly worship each other with a reason-suspended passion that they find fully satisfying.

Orczy wants both an intelligent woman and an innocent trophy wife; both a love that suspends all rationality and a love that isn't insulting to the intelligence of her heroes. When her characters sin, she makes every attempt to prove that their sin was unintentional and out of their control; and yet her men forgive their women as if their betrayals had been cooly calculated. Orczy tries to have her cake and eat it too on every possible level, wanting both sin and innocence, rationality and passion, divine and human to be illogically intermingled.

I can still suspend my own belief to enjoy it, though.

On a random side note, I wasn't aware that these were published in the 1900s and Orczy died after WW2. I also never knew that Orczy tried to write a detective novel during the height of Sherlock Holmes fame! Super gutsy of her.

[Tasha · Rating 1 out of 5]

If this wasn't a eBook, I would set fire to it.

[Katherine B. · Rating 2 out of 5]

Where the heck is Marguerite?! I want her back!

[booklady · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sometimes the Scarlet Pimpernel books remind me of the Where's Waldo? series where you are constantly looking for the elusive and mysterious Waldo. In the case of Sir Percy, you wonder when and where he will show up and who or what he will be; he is either subhuman and beneath notice, or conversely, in authority and to be feared: a drunk, decrepit beggar (male or female), stevedore, buffoon, soldier or other official of the revolution; the latter is when he really messes with things. This story was set around the Fructidor Riots. The Coup of 18 Fructidor, Year V (4 September 1797 in the French Republican Calendar), was a seizure of power in France by members of the Directory, then forming the government of the First French Republic, with support from the military.

[Jennifer · Rating 5 out of 5]

Actual rating: 4,5.
Fast-paced, quick and fun, always a delight to read, this was my first introduction to The Scarlet Pimpernel, which is why I will always forgive its paper-thin characters, melodrama and purple prose (which I absolutely adore).

[Kim · Rating 4 out of 5]

I Will Repay is a novel written by Baroness Emmuska Orczy and originally published in 1906. Baroness Orczy, who's full name is, get ready, Baroness Emma Magdolna Rozália Mária Jozefa Borbála "Emmuska" Orczy de Orci was a Hungarian-born British novelist and playwright and is best known for her series of novels featuring the Scarlet Pimpernel, him and all those people in his band. But before the Pimpernel showed up in novel after novel he was in a play. Opening in London's West End in January 1905, The Scarlet Pimpernel became a favorite of British audiences, so before long it became a favorite novel of British audiences. After that came more Pimpernel books like the one I just finished, I Will Repay.

The story begins in 1784, before the French revolution. Wealthy Paul Déroulède has offended the young Vicomte de Marny by speaking disrespectfully of his latest infatuation, Adèle de Monterchéri. Déroulède had not intended to get into the quarrel but has a tendency to blunder into things -- "no doubt a part of the inheritance bequeathed to him by his bourgeois ancestry." Déroulède has no desire to quarrel with the Vicomte, he knew nothing of the young man's affairs, but he had known the lady's reputation and when the conversation drifted to her, Déroulède made his mistake in speaking of her. Now the Vicomte is angry and calls Déroulède a coward, although why saying something not so nice about a woman makes you a coward I don't know, and he has thrown his cards in the older man's face, I suppose they were playing a card game when all this was happening. The older man doesn't want a fight the Vicomte and we're told that he would have given half his fortune to avoid one, but it is too late, he cannot imperil his own reputation by doing such a thing. So we have to have a duel, when Déroulède even hints of avoiding such a thing he is told this:

"If I could avoid a conflict," he said, "I would tell the Vicomte that I had no knowledge of his admiration for the lady we were discussing and ..."

"Are you so very much afraid of getting a sword scratch, monsieur?" interrupted the Colonel impatiently, whilst M. de Quettare elevated a pair of aristocratic eyebrows in bewilderment at such an extraordinary display of bourgeois cowardice.

"You mean, Monsieur le Colonel?"—queried Déroulède.

"That you must either fight the Vicomte de Marny to-night, or clear out of Paris to-morrow. Your position in our set would become untenable," retorted the Colonel, not unkindly, for in spite of Déroulède's extraordinary attitude, there was nothing in his bearing or his appearance that suggested cowardice or fear.

"I bow to your superior knowledge of your friends, M. le Colonel," responded Déroulède, as he silently drew his sword from its sheath.

And now:

The crowd quickly drew back. The seconds once more assumed the bearing and imperturbable expression which their important function demanded. The hubbub ceased as the swords began to clash.

Everyone felt that farce was turning to tragedy.

And yet it was obvious from the first that Déroulède merely meant once more to disarm his antagonist, to give him one more lesson, a little more severe perhaps than the last. He was such a brilliant swordsman, and De Marny was so excited, that the advantage was with him from the very first.

How it all happened, nobody afterwards could say. There is no doubt that the little Vicomte's sword-play had become more and more wild: that he uncovered himself in the most reckless way, whilst lunging wildly at his opponent's breast, until at last, in one of these mad, unguarded moments, he seemed literally to throw himself upon Déroulède's weapon.

The latter tried with lightning-swift motion of the wrist to avoid the fatal issue, but it was too late, and without a sigh or groan, scarce a tremor, the Vicomte de Marny fell.

The sword dropped out of his hand, and it was Déroulède himself who caught the boy in his arms.

The news of the boy's death is taken to his father who has been ill for sometime. We're told he is barely seventy years old, but ten years ago had been "struck down in the midst of his pleasures, withering him in a flash, and left him a cripple, almost a dotard, left sitting in the invalid chair he would only leave when he leaves the earth". I assume that means he had a stroke but I'm not sure. He lives with his son and his daughter Juliette, the spoilt darling of his last happy years. His son was to some day recreate the glory of the family. Maybe he would have if he wasn't killed in a duel with a man who didn't want to fight much less kill him. But it had happened and now he has been brought home and carried to his room dead. It is late at night so everyone is in bed, but Juiette hears the noise, then her old nurse Pétronelle comes and tells Juiette what had happened and since no one will tell her father, it is up to her to do it. But her father already knows, he had heard the men come in too, and when she enters his room he is awake and dressed and is being taken to his son's room. There he asks the men who it was that killed his son and is told the name and that it was in a fair fight. You probably already know that "it was a fair fight" thing isn't going to matter at all to the old Duc. But now the men are gone and the servants are gone, and the only two people in the room are Juliette and her father. And then there is this:

"His name. You heard his name, Juliette?"

"Yes, father," replied the child.

"Paul Déroulède! Paul Déroulède! You'll not forget it?"

"Never, father!"

"Juliette, you are now fourteen, and able to understand what I am going to ask of you. If I were not chained to this miserable chair, if I were not a hopeless, abject cripple, I would not depute anyone, not even you, my only child, to do that, which God demands that one of us should do."

He paused a moment, then continued earnestly:

"Remember, Juliette, that you are of the house of Marny, that you are a Catholic, and that God hears you now. For you shall swear an oath before Him and me, an oath from which only death can relieve you. Will you swear, my child?"

"If you wish it, father."

"Will you swear, my child?"

"What, father?"

"That you will avenge your brother's death on his murderer?"

"Surely you do not hesitate, Juliette, with your dead brother's body clamouring mutely for revenge? You, the only Marny left now!—for from this day I too shall be as dead."

"No, father," said the young girl in an awed whisper, "I do not hesitate. I will swear, just as you bid me."

The child fell upon her knees. The oath was spoken, the old man was satisfied.

He called for his valet, and allowed himself quietly to be put to bed.

And that is the rest of the book. Revenge. Now we jump ahead some years and find Citizen Déroulède living a quiet life in the Rue Ecole de Médecine with his mother and Anne Mie, the little orphaned cousin his mother had taken care of, ever since the child could walk. I can't remember what happened to her parents. We're told that Citizen Déroulède is very popular, and that he had once been very rich but was wise enough to give away in good time most of this wealth that would have been taken away from him later on anyway. We're also told that everyone knows where his house is on the Rue Ecole de Médecine, it apparently isn't in the best part of town if there is a best part of town. The house is in the midst of a row of evil-smelling and squalid hovels. A good deal of drinking brandy would be going on at the two drinking bars, one at each end of the street, and after five o'clock it was best for women to remain indoors. And yet he still lives there. There are usually a crowd of dishevelled elderly women who stood gossiping at the street corner and they would jeer any passer-by who was less filthy then themselves.

And it is to this street that a young woman comes walking. She wore a simple grey dress, with a kerchief neatly folded across her bosom, something I can't quite picture, a large hat with flowing ribbons, and a young, fair face. She walks by these women, she would have been molested by then, but she wears the tricolour scarf round her waist. So she walks on ignoring everyone and everything they say to her until she reaches the steps of the house belonging to Citizen-Deputy Déroulède, then she decides to pick a fight with the groups of women that had been following her.

"Will you please let me pass?" she said loudly, as a dishevelled Amazon stood before her with arms akimbo, glancing sarcastically at the lace petticoat, which just peeped beneath the young girl's simple grey frock.

"Let her pass? Let her pass? Ho! ho! ho!" laughed the old woman, turning to the nearest group of idlers, and apostrophising them with a loud oath. "Did you know, citizeness, that this street had been specially made for aristos to pass along?"

"I am in a hurry, will you let me pass at once?" commanded the young girl, tapping her foot impatiently on the ground.

There was the whole width of the street on her right, plenty of room for her to walk along. It seemed positive madness to provoke a quarrel singlehanded against this noisy group of excited females, just home from the ghastly spectacle around the guillotine.

And yet she seemed to do it wilfully, as if coming to the end of her patience, all her proud, aristocratic blood in revolt against this evil-smelling crowd which surrounded her.

So, why did she do it? She is on the porch of this house and nearly surrounded by a mob now talking about her head coming off. So there she is and the mob isn't content yelling at her, one woman strikes her straight in the face. She starts to bang on the door of the house and just when the mob is about to tear the girl away from her place of refuge the door opens and she is dragged swiftly inside the home. It is Citoyen Déroulède who has rescued her and he sends her up the stairs to the room where his mother and Anne Mie are waiting while he goes outside to calm down the crowd, which he does, remember they all love him right now. You should know who this young girl is, but in case you haven't been paying attention:

So, then, this was his house! She was actually a guest, a rescued protégé, beneath the roof of Citoyen Déroulède.

He had dragged her from the clutches of the howling mob which she had provoked; his mother had made her welcome, a sweet-faced, young girl scarce out of her teens, sad-eyed and slightly deformed, had waited upon her and made her happy and comfortable.

Juliette de Marny was in the house of the man, whom she had sworn before her God and before her father to pursue with hatred and revenge.

So here is Juliette all grown up now but still believing she has to kill Déroulède, and that's what she is here to do. It doesn't matter how much she comes to care for his mother and his cousin, or him for that matter, she has a vow to take care of. When she finds that she must stay with them, at least for a little while, it being too dangerous for her to leave the house, we find that she is trembling with excitement. God had not only brought her to this house, but willed that she should stay in it. She openly speaks to him and his family about who she is and what had happened to her brother, but gives no hint that she knows it is he who was the one to kill her brother. She wanted him to know who she was, because that would give him time enough yet to close his doors against her. But he doesn't, he renews his warmest offers of hospitality which angers her:

To Juliette his attitude seemed one of complete indifference for the wrong he had done to her and to her father: feeling that she was an avenging spirit, with flaming sword in hand, pursuing her brother's murderer like a relentless Nemesis, she would have preferred to see him cowed before her, even afraid of her, though she was only a young and delicate girl.

She did not understand that in the simplicity of his heart, he only wished to make amends. The quarrel with the young Vicomte de Marny had been forced upon him, the fight had been honourable and fair, and on his side fought with every desire to spare the young man. He had merely been the instrument of Fate, but he felt happy that Fate once more used him as her tool, this time to save the sister.

Now just when I'm beginning to think this book is going to have absolutely nothing to do with the Scarlet Pimpernel, I turn the page and the next chapter is titled "The Scarlet Pimpernel". He's just in time, he'll be needed soon. For now he is in the study with Déroulède, it seems that Déroulède is planning to rescue the Queen. And he is there to try to talk him out of it. He tells him that his League of The Scarlet Pimpernel never attempted the impossible, and to try and drag the Queen out of the clutches of these murderous rascals is attempting the impossible. When Déroulède tells him they mean to try anyway, our hero laughs and says that's why he is there, he has already sent a pleasant little note to the Committee of Public Safety, signed with the Scarlet Pimpernel, that way the committee will be busy looking for him and his league instead of chasing after Déroulède. The last book we had a man trying to rescue the king, now we have another man trying to rescue the Queen. The Pimpernel tells them both that they are crazy, and it seems that they are. OK, here's a really important part:

Déroulède went up to the heavy oak desk which occupied a conspicuous place in the centre of one of the walls. He unlocked it and drew forth a bundle of papers.

"Will you look through these?" he asked, handing them to Sir Percy Blakeney.

"What are they?"

"Different schemes I have drawn up, in case my original plan should not succeed."

"Burn them, my friend," said Blakeney laconically. "Have you not yet learned the lesson of never putting your hand to paper?"

"I can't burn these. You see, I shall not be able to have long conversations with Marie Antoinette. I must give her my suggestions in writing, that she may study them and not fail me, through lack of knowledge of her part."

"Better that than papers in these times, my friend: these papers, if found, would send you, untried, to the guillotine."

Another reason he gives is because Juliette is living there and that would seem like he didn't trust her, or some silly reason. He goes on to tell Sir Percy that Juliette is a saint and an angel. I'm not so sure about that because soon the police receive this letter:

To the Representatives of the People now sitting in Assembly at the National Convention

You trust and believe in the Representative of the people: Citizen-Deputy Paul Déroulède. He is false, and a traitor to the Republic. He is planning, and hopes to effect, the release of ci-devant Marie Antoinette, widow of the traitor Louis Capet. Haste! ye representatives of the people! proofs of his assertion, papers and plans, are still in the house of the Citizen-Deputy Déroulède. This statement is made by one who knows.

So the letter has been sent, and the police will soon be arresting our Citizen-Deputy, and Juliette will finally have her revenge. Now that it's done she stays in her room with a headache and has time to think of what this will do to Anne Mie and Madame Déroulède. Now she has time to think of all the kindness they had shown her. We're told she cannot think of them without the most agonizing, the most torturing shame. Of course now we get this:

She would have stilled, an she could, the beating of her heart, which went out to him at last with all the passionate intensity of her great, pent-up love. Every word he spoke had its echo within her very soul, and she tried not to hear his tender appeal, not to see his dark head bending in worship before her. She tried to forget his presence, not to know that he was there—he, the man whom she had betrayed to serve her own miserable vengeance, whom in her mad, exalted rage she had thought that she hated, but whom she now knew that she loved better than her life, better than her soul, her traditions, or her oath.

Now, at this moment, she made every effort to conjure up the vision of her brother brought home dead upon a stretcher, of her father's declining years, rendered hideous by the mind unhinged through the great sorrow.

She tried to think of the avenging finger of God pointing the way to the fulfilment of her oath, and called to Him to stand by her in this terrible agony of her soul.

And God spoke to her at last; through the eternal vistas of boundless universe, from that heaven which had known no pity, His voice came to her now, clear, awesome, and implacable:

"Vengeance is mine! I will repay!"

Too bad she didn't think of that a long time ago. And this is the moment when five men of the National Guard show up at the door. It is the moment when they come in the name of the republic accusing him of having in his possession correspondence and other papers intended for the rescue of the Queen and he will be arrested and the house searched, all kinds of things like that. The Public Safety Committee is mad and it wants the traitor Déroulède any way they can get him. After all, they are running out of nobility, so they have to change their view of who should lose their head:

And the afternoons were very lively. There was always plenty to see: first and foremost, the long procession of tumbrils, winding its way from the prisons to the Place de la Révolution. The forty-four thousand sections of the Committee of Public Safety sent their quota, each in their turn, to the guillotine.

At one time these tumbrils contained royal ladies and gentlemen, ci-devant dukes and princesses, aristocrats from every county in France, but now this stock was becoming exhausted. The wretched Queen Marie Antoinette still lingered in the Temple with her son and daughter. Madame Elisabeth was still allowed to say her prayers in peace, but ci-devant dukes and counts were getting scarce: those who had not perished at the hand of Citizen Samson were plying some trade in Germany or England.

There were aristocratic joiners, innkeepers, and hairdressers. The proudest names in France were hidden beneath trade signs in London and Hamburg. A good number owed their lives to that mysterious Scarlet Pimpernel, that unknown Englishman who had snatched scores of victims from the clutches of Tinville the Prosecutor, and sent M. Chauvelin, baffled, back to France.

Aristocrats were getting scarce, so it was now the turn of deputies of the National Convention, of men of letters, men of science or of art, men who had sent others to the guillotine a twelvemonth ago, and men who had been loudest in defence of anarchy and its Reign of Terror.

I wonder if the revolution would have lasted many more years if we would end up with only one man left in the country. Anyway, nothing she now does or says can help poor Paul Déroulède, it's good the Scarlet Pimpernel is still in town. Happy reading.

[_nuovocapitolo_ · Rating 5 out of 5]

Secondo capitolo delle avventura della brillante Primula Rossa, che qui sembra avere quasi un ruolo di secondo piano rispetto alla vicenda principale vissuta dai due protagonisti Déroulède e Juliette. La Orczy riporta nuovamente il lettore ai tempi bui del regno del Terrore, quando in Francia era la ghigliottina a decidere il destino di ogni persona: la fluidità della scrittura e la descrizione di atmosfere, caratteri e paesaggi permette una completa immersione nell'anno 1793, ma soprattutto si riescono a vivere, fino quasi a farli propri, i segreti, le insicurezze e i dubbi dei personaggi. La bravura della scrittrice, che utilizza un linguaggio semplice e un ritmo abbastanza serrato, è proprio quella di presentare la vicenda come fosse immediatamente svolta davanti agli occhi del lettore, per cui è facile immaginare i protagonisti muoversi nelle diverse scene quasi fosse un film, ed è possibile provare empatia anche verso i personaggi apparentemente minori come la giovane serva Anne Mie. L'inafferrabile Primula Rossa poi, giunge quale deus ex machina del racconto, a ricordarci che anche a quel tempo qualcuno ancora teneva alla vita umana. Per appassionati di romanzi d'avventura su sfondo storico, per chi rilegge ancora la saga dei Moschettieri di Dumas, consiglio vivamente di recuperare il primo capitolo per leggere insieme tutto d'un fiato anche questo secondo capitolo.

Uno dei libri che più ho amato quando ero adolescente è stato "I tre moschettieri". Ancora oggi reputo che in cui Dumas era riuscito a catapultarmi nella Francia di Luigi XIII rasenti la perfezione e dovrebbe essere preso a modello da tutti gli scrittori che si avventurano nella scrittura dei romanzi storici. Ovviamente, ho cercato per anni qualche libro che potesse ripetere un incantesimo simile a quello che Dumas padre aveva lanciato su di me - e su migliaia di altri lettori, ne sono certa - ma la mia ricerca si è rivelata più infruttuosa di quella di Atlantide.
Poi, un giorno, mi sono imbattuta nei libri della baronessa Orczy. Anzi, no: nell'unico libro all'epoca reperibile in Italia scritto dalla baronessa Orczy - ovvero La Primula Rossa.
Incuriosita dal libro da cui prendeva il nome una delle espressioni che è ormai entrata nel linguaggio comune, diversi anni fa mi sono decisa a leggere quel romanzo. Meraviglia! Gioia e gaudio! Non ero nella Francia di Luigi XIII, ma in quella della Rivoluzione e del Terrore. Potevo sentire il rumore della folla nelle strade di Parigi, quello dei cavalli al galoppo nelle strade, lo sciabordio delle onde presso le bianche scogliere di Dover: la magia che aveva compiuto Dumas padre era finalmente riportata in vita da questa baronessa dal cognome che sembra un codice fiscale. Ma la cosa più bella è che La Primula Rossa era un'intera serie di libri, e io non vedevo l'ora di leggermela. Peccato che i libri successivi non fossero più reperibili in Italia almeno almeno dagli anni Sessanta.
Dopo questa doverosa premessa, potete capire la mia gioia incredula quando ho saputo che la Fazi stava per pubblicare "Voto di Sangue", il secondo volume della saga della Primula Rossa. Vi giuro, ancora un po' e mi sarei messa a piangere quando ho appreso la notizia.
Cosa posso dirvi di questo romanzo? Bello, bello, no, bellissimo. Leggendolo sono tornata a camminare nelle strade di Parigi nei cupi giorni del Terrore, ho avuto timore della folla francese, ho visto l'orrore delle prigioni in cui venivano rinchiusi tutti coloro ce si temeva fossero nemici del popolo. Ed è stato meraviglioso. La storia, oltre che sulla mia amata Primula Rossa, si concentra sulle vicende di due personaggi: il cittadino-deputato Paul Déroulède e la bella Juliette Marny, aristocratica decaduta ora che la Rivoluzione ha spazzato via tutti i titoli. Sebbene non si siano mai incontrarti prima, le loro vite si sono incrociate quando Luigi XVI era ancora il Re di Francia, poiché Paul aveva ucciso in duello il fratello maggiore di Juliette, ed il padre di Juliette le aveva fatto promettere che avrebbe cercato vendetta per il proprio fratello. E in un'epoca in cui basta un sussurro per condurre qualcuno alla ghigliottina, Juliette potrà avere l'occasione di vendicare finalmente il fratello e tener fede al suo giuramento - soprattutto se l'uomo che è oggetto della sua vendetta ha in mente di far fuggire di prigione la vedova Capeto - colei che noi conosciamo come Maria Antonietta, regina di Francia....
Cosa posso dirvi di più? Che spero che ne traggano presto una serie TV, perché farebbe davvero faville. Che sono grata alla Fazi per aver creduto in questo progetto e ha portato nelle librerie italiane un libro che aspettavo da quindici anni. E che questa serie non ve la vorrete perdere per nulla al mondo

[Amy · Rating 3 out of 5]

A very cute novel.
Yes, the Scarlet Pimpernel.
Cute.
It seems like a sacrilege to say it, but the ending of this book made it that. It was adorable. Romantic. Passionate. But the ending was so lacking. It was too predictable, too easy. Despite all the frequent comments that this would be "The Scarlet Pimpernel's Most Difficult Situation Yet..." I didn't feel like it was.
Oh, Percy was a genius. Of course. When is he not? But sometimes....a little less about Robespierre's water sea eyes and a bit more adventure might be in order.
The story itself is typical of books following the original Scarlet Pimpernel , though perhaps a little better. Déroulède, a noble, accidentally kills a young man in fair fight. When the body of the boy is brought home to his aged Father, the nearly insane man forces his fourteen year old daughter to swear before God and upon her brother's corpse that she will get vengeance.
And vengeance she must get.
Ten years pass, the French revolution takes place. Now a young woman, Juliette has not forgotten the oath she swore so many years before. When fate grants her the opportunity to become the guest of Déroulède, she is certain this is God showing her how to pay-back this man who took the pride from her aged Father and brought his gray head to the grave...
Etc.
Etc.
Etc.
xD
What follows is the tangled emotional state of one young woman, as she finds herself falling in love with the man she vowed to destroy.
And the really sweet guy, Déroulède, whose chivalry and kindness make him popular with the fickle masses of France. When he confesses to his good friend, Sir Percy, that he is going to attempt to rescue the Queen... The Scarlet Pimpernel warns him it is not the wisest idea.
If only he'd listened.
Treachery, betrayal, court room scenes, and of course plenty of disguises from Sir Percy Blackney, Bart...the romance closely parallels that of our elusive hero and his wife, Marguerite.
Actually, I did like this book quite a bit. I almost liked it more than The Scarlet Pimpernel ...right up until the climax.
And then it lost me.
Because it just wasn't there. And if I read one more word about Déroulède's sinews quivering, I might have smacked somebody. Seriously, TMI.
And even Percy near the end...I don't know. He wasn't his "usual self." It all felt kind of written up and played out...not even a hitch or a suspenseful moment.
So for the first half, maybe even three-quarters of this book, I reccomend it.
The climax/conclusion just doesn't cut it though. There is a well played out theme of leaving vengeance to God. That was enjoyable.
I'd like to end with one of my favorite quotes from the book (a very sappy quote that Hope proclaimed "overly dramatic" but still, kind of cute ;) ) It proclaims the other theme of this book....a woman's heart is precious, but human.

"And 'twill be when you understand that your idol has feet of clay that you'll learn the real lesson of love," said Blakeney earnestly. "Is it love to worship a saint in heaven, whom you dare not touch, who hovers above you like a cloud, which floats away from you even as you gaze? To love is to feel one being in the world at one with us, our equal in sin as well as in virtue. To love, for us men, is to clasp one woman with our arms, feeling that she lives and breathes just as we do, suffers as we do, thinks with us, loves with us, and, above all, sins with us. Your mock saint who stands in a niche is not a woman if she have not suffered, still less a woman if she have not sinned. Fall at the feet of your idol an you wish, but drag her down to your level after that--the only level she should ever reach, that of your heart."

[Simon Mcleish · Rating 2 out of 5]

Originally published on my blog here in May 2000.

In this melodramatic romance set during the French Revolution, the factor that has ensured it a measure of survival (the involvement of the Scarlet Pimpernel) is fairly incidental to the plot, as he is basically a supernatural element to bring a successful resolution in an impossible situation. It is the silliest and least realistic of the Scarlet Pimpernel novels, and it is also the one which has dated the most.

The plot is about revenge (hence the title, from Romans 12:19 paraphrasing Deuteronomy - "Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord: I will repay"). Before the revolution, Paul Déroulède was wealthy enough to be accepted by aristocratic society despite his bourgeois origins until he is forced into a dued by the stupid Vicomte de Varny and kills his opponent. The Vicomte's father forces his devout daughter Juliette to make a solemn promise to avenge his death (even though this was honourable by the standards of the time). After the Revolution, Juliette is able to carry out this vow when she discovers that Déroulède is involved in a plot to rescue the imprisoned queen, even though she has herself fallen in love with the man supposed to be her enemy.

The ludicrous plot - almost bad enough for a third rate opera - is accompanied by a romantic style full of phrases which today seem extremely old fashioned. Sentences like "Man-like, he did not understand to the full that great and wonderful enigma which has puzzled the world since primeval times; a woman's heart" are hard to take seriously; they seem more like a deliberate parody of the worst of romantic fiction.

[Elaine · Rating 4 out of 5]

I Will Repay is the first of many sequels to Baroness Orczy's The Scarlet Pimpernel, and is, likewise, set amidst the French Revolution. Though I did not think it was quite as good as the original book, I liked it all the same. I Will Repay centers around two new main characters, Juliette Marny and Paul Deroulede. Years before the Revolution, Juliette's brother was killed in a fair fight by Deroulede, and her deranged father had Juliette swear to avenge her brother's death. In the aftermath of certain events, Juliette is taken into Deroulede's household where she has an insight into the best way to denounce Deroulede and take revenge. But what transpires when one is pitted against the other? Romance and true love, of course! Juliette realizes, too late, that God alone will deal out punishment and it is not our decision who should get revenge. She also recognizes her love for Deroulede and must now try to undo what she has done. Next thing they know, both Juliette and Paul must find a way to escape France or it's to the guillotine for the both of them! Perhaps part of the reason I enjoyed The Scarlet Pimpernel more, was the fact that Sir Percy Blakeney was only a secondary character (Deroulede's friend) in this novel. Sir Percy does, however, give continued advise and must help them escape in the end. Betrayal (not only Juliette's!), suspense, rescue, danger, and true love are all wonderfully woven in this classic. I'm looking forward to reading more of Sir Percy's adventures in the future.

[Challice · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really enjoy Scarlet Pimpernel! However, as much as I enjoyed the content and the French Revolution history, it fell flat for a story about Sir Blakeney, who is the elusive Scarlet Pimpernel.

He shows up two or three times. The rest of the story is more of a love story between a young women bent on keeping her oath to her father, and a man in love with the sister of the man he killed in a duel years before.

"They talked of Liberty mostly, with many oaths and curses against the tyrants; and then started a tyranny of their own more merciless than the tyranny of the Kings of France... So, like the rats in the cellars below, they had swallowed one another up, the denouncers being in their turn denounced and sent to the guillotine by others more powerful or more cunning than themselves."

[Stephany (Goombah) · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed this book moderately. A bit corny… even more so than the first book…and has that French flare for dramatics, which I like for a change of pace every so often. Fun little reminder of Percy’s heroism through another quick story. It’s worth the read. Only criticism is that the dialogue between characters was lacking and I felt like I needed more proof that the main characters actually had a relationship beyond the author just telling us they had one.

[Sai Theagaraj · Rating 5 out of 5]

'Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité, sinon La Mort'

Another perfect Scarlet Pimpernel classic. Though it revolves less around Sir Percy and his band and more around Mr. Déroulède, it has portrayed everyday life in Paris during the revolution with intense details.

[Night Owling · Rating 3 out of 5]

After reading the Scarlet Pimpernel I was hoping for a story where the heroine has some sense and some good motives for what she does other than "I love him and must save him by placing him in even more danger."

Well, Juliet has some very interesting motives for what she does. That part actually worked for me.

What didn't work was the pacing of this novel. You cannot build chapters and chapters of lover's angst and resolve them with a single line.

At least the Scarlet Pimpernel and the Elusive Pimpernel didn't skimp on that part. Sigh!

I really wanted to like this.

On a more spoilery note:

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

Spoilers coming up:

It was a bit amusing to watch Paul rush in to save Juliet, and instead of saving her, getting both of them a death sentence (noone was to die before he intervened,) but he is so happy to exist with her in the same universe, he barely notices. Realistic? No. Wholesome and amusing? Very.

[Eloise · Rating 3 out of 5]

I think this has been one of my favourite Scarlet Pimpernel books so far - on par with Sir Percy Leads the Band.

The main characters have backstories and more depth than Orczy usually manages; the story is tighly paced, with a few successful twists (and unfortunately, a few unrealistic ones, too). The focus is less on The Scarlet Pimpernel himself, which is exactly what I needed after reading The League of the Scarlet Pimpernel.

The themes of revenge and love are relatively well managed, though Orczy does love to indulge in a little moralising which I could have done without. I got a little tired of the Madonna/Angel descriptions of Juliette towards the middle of the novel, and was glad that Orczy broke that trope somewhat. Some descriptions and reflections on girls/women/women in love were dated and more than a little sexist.

Setting these niggles aside though, the suspense kept me reading and I finished it in two sittings.

[Hope · Rating 3 out of 5]

Apparently book three in the Scarlet Pimpernel series. Paul Déroulède and Juliette Marny are star-crossed lovers. She hates him for what she thinks he is and loves him for what she knows he is. In her angry phase she turns him over to the French authorities and only the Scarlet Pimpernel can save the day.

Frankly, I skimmed the last half of the book. It only shines when the Pimpernel makes his appearance (which is not often.)

[Lisa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fantastic! This was the second Scarlet Pimpernel story in my anthology. It was actually a bit drawn out and disappointing early on because the Pimpernel was not featured much, but the last third of the book more than made up for it. So exciting and suspenseful! The age difference in the love story bothered me at first, but in the end who cares! Fabulous. I love Orczy’s writing and how she captures so well the crazed mob mentality of the French Revolution. So interesting that she repeatedly mentions the prominent role that women played in the mob. We certainly saw that again in America during the urban riots of 2020. Also love the Biblical truths that the characters learn.

[Bethany · Rating 4 out of 5]

It is rare that a sequel is as good as the original, but this is pretty close. Some questionable theology in this one accompanies the overdramatization of emotions from the first, but is a fun read all the same! Faith, I gladly recommend this story as well!

[ines · Rating 2 out of 5]

الترجمة لِ غبريال وهبة

[Abigail G · Rating 5 out of 5]

Liked this book as much as the first one! The story follows two members of French citizenry as they navigate the complexities of life before and during the French Revolution​.

[Grace · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was not my favorite Scarlet Pimpernel book. It felt like a Scarlet Pimpernel spinoff rather than a sequel. The focus seemed like it was on all these other characters who weren't as interesting as Percy, with Percy making a brief appearance now and again, just often enough to make one think: "Hey, look! There's that character I would much rather be reading about." The pace picked up considerably whenever he was in the scene.

[Soquel · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love the Scarlet Pimpernel. Watching the part he plays in this tale of revenge and redemption is enjoyable. Orczy's writing is sparse but still paints vivid scenes of this turbulent historical time. I especially like her method of writing tender love scenes. It's understated but packed with emotional truth.

[Igenlode Wordsmith · Rating 3 out of 5]

"Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord-- I will repay."

This book was billed in various editions as 'Further Adventures of the Scarlet Pimpernel' and 'A Scarlet Pimpernel Story', but in fact as a sequel to the enormous success of the original Scarlet Pimpernel novel it is a somewhat unexpected choice; the Scarlet Pimpernel himself has little more than a walk-on role, and the main character is an idealistic Citizen Deputy in the National Convention who is denounced to the authorities by a young aristocrat in revenge for events that had occurred before the Revolution. It's a bold development on Orczy's part, if nothing else, and I suspect may have disconcerted the contemporary audience as much as it disconcerted me when I first read it as a child, for in her next book she returns to the old set-up of Sir Percy squaring off against a returning Chauvelin in order to save the captive Marguerite. But this one is quite a departure, and I can appreciate it now more than I did on my original reading. (And my 1950s pulp-fiction edition -- now subtitled "The Fifth Adventure of the Scarlet Pimpernel" after the arrival of some earlier 'prequels' -- was on its forty-seventh impression in the forty years since its first publication, so it clearly didn't do too badly...)

I actually got unexpected echoes of Dickens' "A Tale of Two Cities" at points in this book, perhaps because of the Parisian setting and the role of public opinion and of swaying the mob. The novel opens with what is basically a condemnation of the ancien régime, as Paul Déroulède, a wealthy parvenu barely tolerated among the aristocracy for his money, finds himself compelled to a senseless duel by a social code that considers it bourgeois to apologise, and then forced into resuming the fight and killing his young opponent even after honour has been satisfied. The boy's fourteen-year-old sister Juliette is then obliged by their father to take an oath to destroy Déroulède by any means available, on pain of the eternal torment of her brother's soul if he should remain unavenged -- a threat which at that impressionable age horrifies her.

She takes refuge in a convent, but the Revolution intervenes. With the Archbishop who had promised to absolve her of her vow a casualty of the turmoil, with the religious foundation broken up and the nuns sent to their deaths, with all the previous property of her family confiscated, Juliette, the heiress and last surviving descendant of the Duc de Marny, ends up living on the charity of her old nurse, with nothing to cling to save the memory of her 'sublime mission' of vengeance. After the notorious murder of Marat at the hands of a girl of her own age, she resolves that "Charlotte Corday, the half-educated little provincial, should not put to shame Mademoiselle de Marny, daughter of a hundred dukes, of those who had made France before she took to unmaking herself", and comes up with a scheme to trick her way into Déroulède's house and into his confidence.

Meanwhile 'Citizen Déroulède' has contrived to survive "the most seething time of that most seething revolution" unscathed -- so far. He is no longer wealthy, having "had sufficient prudence to give away in good time that which, undoubtedly, would have been taken away from him later on", and by giving without stint at a time when the people of Paris were in their most desperate need had won the devotion of the mob, however fickle that might prove to be; better yet, he had had the good fortune to be described as "harmless" by Marat before the latter was murdered, and the chance of that murder has cast a subsequent halo of infallibility over the martyred man's pronouncements. He sits as a member of the National Convention, albeit as a member of the moderate Gironde in an era when it is no longer aristocrats but fellow-revolutionaries who are increasingly condemned to the guillotine... and, although Juliette has as yet no idea of this, he just happens to be hatching plans for a rescue of the imprisoned Queen Marie-Antoinette, motivated by precisely the same pity and generosity that has made him the idol of the starving rabble who hate her.

The Queen's case is so hopeless that even the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel, which maintains its mystique by never undertaking any task that does not succeed, is not prepared to attempt it, and, as history inexorably informs us, Paul Déroulède does not manage to get very far with his scheme. But when Juliette overhears his intentions, she takes it as a sign that Fate has inexorably appointed her as his executioner, and sends in an anonymous denunciation of the man who has shown her nothing but kindness. It is not until he confesses his love for her -- the love that he has always considered hopeless, because he is a republican and a revolutionary, the enemy of her class, and because he was, however unwillingly, the instrument of her brother's death, even though he has tried to pay for that by helping her -- that it dawns on Juliette that what she feels for him is not hate but love in her turn.

But it is already too late, and all she can do is attempt to sacrifice herself in order to save him and repay the consequences of what she has done, a sacrifice that Déroulède is by his nature unable to allow her to carry through, thus inevitably dooming them both. Enter his old friend the Scarlet Pimpernel as deus ex machina...

I think the reason I disliked this book as a child (besides the disappointingly low Pimpernel content) was that I really didn't care for Juliette; I had no sympathy for her romantic quandaries and would have much preferred to see Déroulède paired off with the unswervingly loyal and resourceful Anne Mie, who gets very much the thin end of the wedge in this story. She is the one person who sees through Juliette's deliberate attempt to endanger herself in order to get Paul Déroulède's ready sympathy, and who not only jumps to the correct conclusion as to the author of the denunciation that devastates their household, but gets the truth out of Juliette using the time-honoured strategem of a piece of blank paper; she tries to enlist Sir Percy Blakeney's help, only to be told that there is nothing he can do ("if, indeed, she turned out to be false, or even treacherous, she would, nevertheless, still hold a place in Déroulède's very soul, which no one else would ever fill"). And the only happiness she gets is the discovery that "hers was the nature born to abnegation... and destined to find bliss therein"; it is enough, in the end, for her to be forgiven for hurting the man she loves by revealing to him Juliette's betrayal. Anne Mie is doomed to play the role of Eponine: she has loved him unswervingly all her life, but received only pity and chivalrous friendship in return ("what a life I might have known... but he never saw me there").

I have more sympathy for Juliette now -- and more tolerance for romance in my fiction! Despite the tumultuous events she has lived through, she is extremely sheltered and immature; indeed, emotionally she has barely grown up since the traumatic night when her brother's body was brought home. (If you work it out, she is almost the same age as Marguerite Blakeney, but where Marguerite, likewise orphaned at a young age, earned her own living and held court among brilliant and witty admirers from the age of eighteen, Juliette has been protected and supported by others her whole life, even if that only amounts to sharing the meagre savings of her old nurse in the refuge of an obscure garret. Marguerite is all woman; Juliette is barely beginning to reach adulthood in her early twenties, and everyone sees her and indeed treats her as 'a young girl', something she is starting to be conscious of resenting.)

Seeing herself as the Appointed Hand of Vengeance, she is distressed and confused by her own continuing human fallibility: "she felt small and petty[...], ashamed of her high spirits and light-heartedness, ashamed of that feeling of sudden pity and admiration for the man who had done her and her family so deep an injury, which she was too feeble, too vacillating, to avenge". It is not until she has committed her betrayal that she realises just what Déroulède means to her and just what a terrible thing she has done. Part of the theme of the novel is that they both have to learn to look beyond their black and white absolutes -- although it is a little much for Percy Blakeney to draw the moral of "his own great, true love for the woman who once had so deeply wronged him" and say that a man cannot truly love a sinless ideal, when he himself had previously frozen Marguerite out of his life for a year on the mere suspicion that she could not be trusted... :-p

One of the unexpected things about the book is the way that the author conveys an added sense of authenticity by alluding to the supposed historical record in a way that, as a child, I took at absolute face value: "that denunciation of Citizen-Deputy Déroulède which has become a historical document.... You have all seen it at the Musée Carnavalet in its glass case". "It is all indelibly placed on record in the 'Bulletin du Tribunal Révolutionnaire,' under date 25th Fructidor, year I. of the Revolution. Anyone who cares may read, for the Bulletin is in the Archives of the Bibliothèque Nationale of Paris.... The Bulletin says that she took out her handkerchief and wiped her face with it: elle s'essuya le front qui fut perlé de sueur. The heat had become oppressive." "Many accounts, more or less authentic, have been published of the events known to history as the 'Fructidor Riots'..." (but which appear to exist nowhere outside these pages, at least according to Google -- a resource naturally not available to the reader of 1913!)

Chauvelin, as mentioned, does not feature in this novel; the antagonist, insofar as there is one, is Citizen-Deputy Merlin, Minister of Justice and Déroulède's jealous enemy in the National Convention, and "author of that infamous Law of the Suspect" (although, as with the Marquis de Chauvelin, a strictly fictional version; in real life the Loi des suspects was not actually passed until September 1793, while this novel takes place in August of that year). And there is also the agitator Lenoir, whom I immediately found suspicious on account of his size, although he had apparently been around for a year or more -- and who of course eventually proves to be Blakeney in disguise, stirring up trouble in order to cover his schemes. Though I do wonder how, with the best will in the world, the fair-haired, blue-eyed Sir Percy managed to dispose "his dark hairy arms over the table" in his assumed role -- perhaps arm wigs are a thing? ;-) (Presumably a sufficient coating of dirt can achieve a great deal...)

I'm assuming that, given the Scarlet Pimpernel's skills at disguise, both the "broad provincial accent, somewhat difficult to locate", and the "certain drawl of o's and a's that would have betrayed the Britisher to an observant ear" in Déroulède's study, are a deliberate affectation in what is presumably flawless French when it needs to be. There is also an interesting verbal shift between Sir Percy as plotter addressing Juliette "gaily, and with that pleasant drawl of his", and, a moment or two later, issuing orders as the Scarlet Pimpernel: "In the room you will find a disguise, which I pray you to don with all haste. La! they are filthy rags, I own"/"These uniforms will not do now; there are bundles of abominable clothes here. Will you all don them as quickly as you can?"

Overall I find I appreciate the book these days better than I did when I was hoping for it to be another swashbuckling adventure. Though I still think Juliette gets off far too easily and Déroulède's blind adoration of her should have been far more shaken, even if he does forgive her in the end.

[Thor The Redbeard · Rating 3 out of 5]

6/10

[Malachi Cyr · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not as good as other books in the Scarlet Pimpernel series.

[Kimmy · Rating 4 out of 5]

I don't know why I was so worried I wouldn't like this one, when just like all the others I had such a fun time! I can see why this one might jar some people if read directly after the first one. It focuses largely on new characters Juliette and D (I can't spell or pronounce his actual name so I'm gonna use his initial). Percy does pop up a few times, as he always does, but main characters Marguerite and Chauvelin do not appear even once. I think this is the first book in the series that I've read that does not feature an appearance by a Chauvelin; while I missed him, his absence did give this book a unique and fresh feel.

Juliette's story was interesting, but it was hard to sympathize with her family's desire for revenge, since her brother's death was absolutely not D's fault. Just like in Lord Tony's Wife, our female main character has a selfish father that makes her life difficult. Her romance with D could've been sweet, with the whole aspect of falling for the man she was supposed to ruin. But their back and forth got tiring. He loves her, she hates him. She betrays him, she realizes she loves him. He thinks he'll never have her love, now he doesn't want it. She regrets betraying him, now she loves him. She thinks he'll never love her again, and vice versa. They were kind of ridiculous but still entertaining enough.

Percy's disguise is pretty easy to spot as a reader if you've read more than 1 book by now. But I do think Orczy wants you to spot him. Her use of words like "giant" and "broad" is her way of cluing us in, and I really like that. I did think his disguise was very believable in deceiving the Citizens this time though. Since they didn't know what he looked like or to even expect that he would be in disguise, I found this particular scheme to be more realistic and satisfying than the one in Lord Tony's Wife.

We get only a brief appearance from our main League members and a few Marguerite mentions, but I enjoyed all of it immensely. It's so fun to hear about and see these characters even if it's only for a few passages.

Anyway if you like the style of The Scarlet Pimpernel books as I do, you will probably enjoy this one but if you're already not a fan or find them repetitive, than probably not.