Probably you have already read The Scarlet Pimpernel and so do not need to be told that these are tales of an intrepid band of English gentlemen in the midst of the French Revolution. Led by the daring and elusive Pimpernel, they spend their leisure time in outwitting the Committee of Public Safety and rescuing aristocrats condemned to the guillotine.
she was in a state of semi- consciousness. When she once more woke to reality, she was in comfortable lodgings; she moved and talked and ate and lived like a human being. She was no longer a pariah, an outcast, a poor, half- demented creature, insentient save for an infinite capacity for suffering. She suffered still, but she no longer despaired. There had been such marvellous power and confidence in that man's voice when he said: "I pledge you my word." Madeleine Lannoy lived now in hope and a sweet sense of perfect mental and bodily security. Around her there was an influence, too, a presence which she did not often see, but always felt to be there: a woman, tall and graceful and sympathetic, who was always ready to cheer, to comfort, and to help. Her name was Marguerite. Madame Lannoy never knew her by any other. The man had spoken of her as being as like an angel as could be met on this earth, and poor Madeleine Lannoy fully agreed with him.
Even that bloodthirsty tiger, Jean Paul Marat