The Scarlet PimpernelBook - 1974
A timeless novel of adventure, intrigue, and romance is sparked by one man's defiance in the face of authority...
The year is 1792. The French Revolution, driven to excess by its own triumph, has turned into a reign of terror. Daily, tumbrels bearing new victims to the guillotine roll over the cobbled streets of Paris.… Thus the stage is set for one of the most enthralling novels of historical adventure ever written.
The mysterious figure known as the Scarlet Pimpernel, sworn to rescue helpless men, women, and children from their doom; his implacable foe, the French agent Chauvelin, relentlessly hunting him down; and lovely Marguerite Blakeney, a beautiful French exile married to an English lord and caught in a terrible conflict of loyalties—all play their parts in a suspenseful tale that ranges from the squalid slums of Paris to the aristocratic salons of London, from intrigue on a great English country estate to the final denouement on the cliffs of the French coast.
There have been many imitations of The Scarlet Pimpernel, but none has ever equaled its superb sense of color and drama and its irresistible gift of wonderfully romantic escape.
With an Introduction by Gary Hoppenstand
Baker & Taylor
This 100th anniversary edition of the timeless classic detailing the French Revolution follows the enigmatic "Scarlet Pimpernel" who confounds the new French regime with his exploits, leaving his calling card--a blood-red flower--wherever he strikes. Reprint.
A band of titled Englishmen, led by the Scarlet Pimpernel, assists condemned aristocrats in their escape to England during the Reign of Terror.
From the critics
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"They seek him here, they seek him there
Those Frenchies seek him everywhere
Is he in heaven or is he in hell?
That damned elusive Pimpernel." - Baroness Orczy
Before entering, she paused once again to look at him, hoping against hope to see his arms stretched out to her, and to hear his voice calling her back. But he had not moved; his massive figure looked the very personification of unbending pride [...] Hot tears again surged to her eyes[.] She turned quickly within, and ran as fast as she could up to her rooms. Had she but turned back then, and looked out once more [...] she would have seen [...] a strong man, overwhelmed with his own passion and his own despair. He was but a man madly, blindly, passionately in love, and as soon as her light footsteps had died away within the house, he knelt down upon the terrace steps, and in the very madness of his love he kissed one by one the places where her small foot had trodden, and the stone balustrade there, where her tiny hand had rested last.
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