The Triumph of the Scarlet Pimpernel

I

It was a thoughtful Theresia who turned into the narrow hall of The Fisherman's Rest a few moments later. The inn, when she left it earlier in the evening, had still been all animation and bustle consequent on the arrival of their lordships with the party of ladies and gentlemen over from France, and the excitement of making all these grand folk comfortable for the night. Theresia Cabarrus, in her disguise as a young stowaway, had only aroused passing interest -- refugees of every condition and degree were frequent enough in these parts -- and when awhile ago she had slipped out in order to enact the elaborate role devised by her and Chauvelin, she had done so unperceived. Since then, no doubt there had been one or two cursory questions about the mysterious stowaway, who had been left to feed and rest in the tiny living-room; but equally no doubt, interest in him waned quickly when it was discovered that he had gone, without as much as thanking those who had befriended him.