The Triumph of the Scarlet Pimpernel

I

When Marguerite Blakeney finally recovered consciousness, the sun was low down in the west. She was in a coach -- not her own -- which was being whisked along the road at terrific speed. She was alone, her mouth gagged, her wrists and her ankles tied with cords, so that she could neither speak nor move -- a helpless log, being taken... whither? . and by whom?