As the Guild filed out of the library, hushed whispering going on all the time, Sir Edward noticed that the Lady was heading towards the Drawing Room.  Ronnaly hurried after her, desperate to make his apologies and excuses.
He knocked on the door.  No reply.  He tried the door, unlocked.  He quietly strode in to the room, seeing Lady Hastings with her back to him He registered with some surprise that she was weeping into a box of tissues.  Suddenly he knew why.
"It was Lord Hastings wasn't it?"  he said softly, making her turn and hide her face, embarrassed.
"I don't know what you mean, sir!" the Lady replied with some indignance.
"Who was captured. Your husband was the one who was going to be rescued. He was going to say the epilogue, he was rescued.  In doing so the rest of the League was captured." 
He started to remember the face of the man on the stage.  The expression of urgency, even more than usual, on Lady Hastings' face when she first laid out the mission.
"If you remember, sir, he came out of the box just as you were entering it,"  she replied, desperately trying to cover up the truth.
"Only because he had been telling you their plan.  He must have sneaked out of his prison while they were getting the show together.  He just came to tell you the plan and get back, unless they had noticed he had gone."
"No," said Eliza, much calmer than she had been, and fully facing him now, "He did not sneak out, he was let out, without his knowlage. It was a huge trap, though we did not know it at the time."
"So what are we going to do now?"
We're going to have a talk, my lord," she said with a deep sigh, "Then You're going home."
"I beg you're pardon M'lady?"
"Forgive me sir, but you have had too much to do with this incident. For your own safety you must get back to your home immediately. I believe that-"
"That I am a liability.  That I will slip up again and might hurt the whole d---d country.  Well, I don't care about your Guild, I don't care about your husband, but my father died defending the Scarlet Pimpernel and I'M not going to quit now.  You and your d---d charity can go to blazes.  I'll do this on my own if I have to, but I won't give up!" 
With this, he strode over to the door with insulting elegance, turned, and gave a deep bow.
"Your servant, ma'am," he spoke with a false smile on his face, and he left.  The Lady Eliza sat through the whole thing; then when the lord had exited, she wept.

Ronnaly didn't know what he was doing, not entirely.  He was crawling under the stage of the theatre in a mask, fake beard and carrying a candle.  He could barely see the rats and spiders crawling and sniffing beneath the creaking, woodwormed floorboards.  He was looking for hinges, a handle, anything that could be a trapdoor of some kind!
  Then, a floorboard squeaked open in front of him.  There was a man standing there.  Well, only his legs were visible.  Sir Edward blew out his candle, then recognised the voice.  It was another of the Guild members. He drew his pistol and ducked.  Sir Edward decided that the man probably had a far better idea of where he was going than he did.  So he followed him.

It seemed to last forever, that crawling through cobwebs and dust, not daring to breathe lest he should be discovered.  At last they pulled up through a hole.  Edward peeked up after the gentlemen and saw, not the League, not even the Guild, but he was staring into the handsome, devilish face of Citizen Robespierre.  The man whispered to Robespierre for a few seconds and then the man went to the door and opened it.
"Good evening, ma'am, I think you will find that you are surrounded. Dropping your weapons and surrendering would be highly beneficial to your health," said the man to an unviewable audience.
"Jean, why?" said a voice instantly recognisable as the Lady's.
"Pourquoi? Pourquoi Pas?" he replied laughing.  With that, eighty or so guards, to all the Guild, shot, cut and bound the Guild.  Sir Ronnaly looked on, not able to see all that was happening.  When Robespierre strolled into the next room Edward jumped up and ran quietly into the room opposite.  In there, there was nothing.  The next door was locked. Edward looked around.  No key anywhere.  Only a mask, a plume and a candle.  He picked up the plume, stripped the fluffy decoration off it and was left with the hard bone underneath.  He started to pick the lock.  The door swung open.  Inside there was, the League of the pimpernel, and one guard who was smartly removed from this mortal plane with Ronnnaly's pistol.  The first to be untied was a man who looked remarkably like his dead father.

"Sir Percy Blakeney at your service."
"Sir Edward Ronnaly at yours."
"Really, I believe I knew your father.  Let's get the rest of these poor souls untied then, shall we?"
With that, they untied the whole League.  Then they stormed into the room where the others were being held.
"Sir Edward!" exclaimed the lady.
"You didn't think I'd desert you, now did you?" said Edward, smiling while swashbuckling with a guard.

When it was all over Sir Edward tried to look for Sir Blakeney.  He had vanished.  The Lady Eliza pulled him to one side.
"Are you quite mad, sir?  Not only do you get the League captured, quit the Guild and go on private little expeditions of your own, but you put yourself in danger and-"
"My dear lady, is that concern I hear in your voice?"  he smiled.
"I'm afraid that it will be impossible for you to rejoin the Guild in this instance."
"Well, then I'll always be at the end of a telegram should you need my humble assistance."
"Thank you, my lord."
"And you, my lady."
With that, the gentleman bid the lady farewell, and with a kiss on her hand jumped out of the curtains on the front of the stage.

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