The Scarlet Pimpernel

No, I think he had seen opera, yeah.

He'd seen opera, and he'd [laughs] seen a production I did at the Chichester Festival in 1985 of The Scarlet Pimpernel, a piece of summer absurdity.

It was fun.

Donald Sinden, the most adorable man, playing Sir Percy Blakeney, and I kind of just let rip with it and had a lot of fun with it.

And like you were saying, to get back to the concept of what came before, it's interesting to kind of think about that.

The Scarlet Pimpernel, I think, might have been the late 1800s.

I'm not sure off the top of my head.

Can you Google it while you're talking? Yeah, sure.

Well, that was all I had to say.

Just kidding.

But it's interesting because that one's also different where that one really relies heavily on Who is the Scarlet Pimpernel? And you kind of have a bunch of guys going on.

I don't remember at what point it's revealed

As a part of celebrating Swashbuckling September, I am doing a Swashbuckling September giveaway in which, this is the announcement, folks, a copy of Captain Blood by Raphael Sabatini, which is utter classic.

Perhaps like the Ur-Swashbuckler, The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orzi, which, again, for anyone that has followed me long enough knows this is like a keystone story.

George Cottonwood read it and disliked it.

So I was really worried when he read Thorn and he said that Thorn is a better book than Scarlet Pimpernel.

Granger, for the ones who get it done.

The Scarlet Pimpernel, Chapter One.

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The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy.

Chapter One.

Paris, September 1792.

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The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orzi Chapter 19 The Scarlet Pimpernel At what particular moment the strange doubt first crept into Marguerite's mind, she could not herself have said.

With the ring tightly clutched in her hand, she had run out of the room, down the stairs, and out into the garden, where, in complete seclusion, alone with the flowers and the river and the birds, she could look again at the ring and study that device more closely.

Stupidly, senselessly now, sitting beneath the shade of an overhanging sycamore, she was looking at the plain gold shield, with the star-shaped little flower engraved upon it.

"'But, of course, nothing is to be thought of until Papa is safe.'" Marguerite started.

Suzanne's father.

The Comte de Tournai, one of those whose life would be jeopardized if Chauvelin succeeded in establishing the identity of the Scarlet Pimpernel.

She had understood all along from the Comtesse, and also from one or two of the members of the League, that their mysterious leader had pledged his honour to bring the fugitive Comte d'Ornay safely out of France.

Uh, so Captain Aubrey reveals that Midshipman Blakeney's father is named Sir Percy Blakeney.

Percy Blakeney is the swashbuckling Scarlet Pimpernel in the series "Scarlet Pimpernel," which is my favorite book, the first one.

I don't think I ever read the rest.

I don't know what the fuck you're talking about.

"The Scarlet Pimpernel"? You don't know who the fucking Scarlet Pimpernel is?

All right.

Calm down.

Chapter One of The Scarlet Pimpernel.

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The Scarlet Pimpernel by Emma Orsky.

Chapter One.

Paris, September seventeen ninety-two.

Sometimes he would find it in the pocket of his coat.

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 Monsieur Chauvin, 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 twelve month ago, and men who had been loudest in defense of anarchy and its reign of terror.

They had revolutionized the calendar.

No doubt, within the next few days her name would figure among the suspect.

She would be safest out of the country and could not do better than place herself under the guidance of that English enthusiast who had helped so many persecuted Frenchmen to escape from the terrors of the revolution.

The man who was such a thorn in the flesh of the Committee of Public Safety and who went by the nickname of the Scarlet Pimpernel.

End of chapter three Chapters four and five of I Will Repay.