The officer was a tall man, dressed in dark black clothing, blending in with the darkness of the cellar. His curly brown hair was aptly hidden underneath a black tri-cornered hat, typical attire for an official of his rank. He held a freshly written scroll, fairly long with names written in neat, careful cursive. Madame le Guillotine's lunch menu. He read names of monotonously, each name triggering a round of cries. Cries of pain and panic. Cries signaling the death sentence that was sure to follow.

"The former duke and duchess of Westerville." two trembling figures were led out the door, clinging onto each other and weeping.

"The former bishop of Akron." a small, scared man was grabbed by the collar and shoved out the door after the previous couple.

"The former Count of Lima and family."

"There they are!" officials pointed towards a trio lurking in the corner of the prison. A man, his wife, and their young daughter.

The man, Count de Fabray of Lima, was a respectable man. He and his family lived a quiet life in Lima, where they lived in comfort and had many close friends. By no means were they guilty of any major offence. Even so, the count's wife and daughter, Quinn, who was only eighteen, were innocent, and did not deserve the harsh fate that was to be presented to them.

"I beg of you monsieur." the count pleaded. A priest that was standing by, a tall man wearing dark robes and had a bible in clutch, approached the group, speaking to the count.

"Fear not. If you look at the passages I have marked, your spirits would be uplifted." he held out his bible gingerly, about to open the bible to its bookmarked page, but Count de Fabray began speaking.

"It is not for myself I fear, Father, but my wife, and our darling Quinn. They have done nothing to deserve this! They are innocent!" Count de Fabray looked crazed and desperate, pleading for whatever bit of mercy he would be able to scrape up.

"Innocent!" the officer scoffed. "Show me one Ariosto that is innocent and you can spit in my face."

"Surely the girl is too young to die." the countess spoke up for the first time, her eyes wet with tears that had been flowing down her face since they were captured several days previously. The priest persisted with his bible, aching for the count to read what the book withheld.

"Even so, her spirit will live on, through the mercy of our Lord. Look here."

He held out the bible to Count de Fabray, so that it was in the eyesight of the Count and the Count alone. In between the pages was a card, lengthwise slightly taller than the bible. Written on it was one word, painted on in a bright shade of red. Courage. The message was not signed. Not with a name, anyhow. Instead, in the corner of the card, was the symbol of a small flower. A pimpernel. Count de Fabray's eyes widened in realization.

"Take them away!" the officials each grabbed one of the Fabrays, leading them outside of the prison cell and into the streets, where they would be taken away to the guillotine to be beheaded. The priest followed the group, speeding up to stand near Count de Fabray.

"We've come to help you." he said in a low voice as they headed towards out of the tunnels of the prison and into the sunlight. "Quickly!"

The group was lead out into the streets, where a horse drawn carriage was waiting for them. Count de Fabray's heart sunk when he saw the contents of the carriage. Three large wooden coffins.

His worry was immediately alleviated when the men who he figured were only posing to be government officials helped him and his family up onto the cart and eased them into the coffins. They were to be hidden in the coffins and smuggled out of the country, where they could then be safe from the fate that was to come of them otherwise.

"Be brave, my Quinn." the Countess de Fabray whispered to her daughter, who was trembling as she was laid into the coffin.

Perched on the seat of the carriage was an old man. He looked dirty, his skin splotched in dirty brown smears. His face was wrinkly and bumpy, covered in warts and all sorts of other deformities. His hair was grey and thin, only emphasizing the age etched into his face.

This man was The Scarlet Pimpernel.

Once his men had all the Fabrays safely put into the coffins and loaded them up into the carriage, The Scarlet Pimpernel cracked the whip and set the carriage springing into motion.

xxx

The gates out of the city were crowded with people. People trying to get out, the guards preventing people from getting out without their papers, and superfluous spectators watching the traffic of people enter and exit the gates.

It was a quiet day for the most part when a flood of men on horses approached the gate. The lead man, an officer dressed in an official uniform, approached the guard and spoke urgently.

"Count Fabray and his family have tried to escape from the temple prison. We just received word that the Scarlet Pimpernel and his men are at large in the city. Could be he's trying to smuggle them out of the country, possibly by way of this or one of the other gates. Be on the alert and keep your eyes open."

He nodded and the men all raced through the gates and into the woods. Next, the carriage with the three coffins approached, stopping just before the gates. The old man leaned slightly towards the guard when he reached the stop, wanting to get past this point with as little trouble as possible.

"Alright, let's see your papers," the guard demanded. The old man spoke in a low, raspy voice.

"Ay, everything's in order, sergeant."

The man looked down and away, uneasy with the knowledge that inside the coffins were three very much alive aristocrats who were being smuggled out of the country after escaping from the temple prison. Unfortunately, the guard was no idiot, and he caught on to this.

"Let me see inside those coffins."

"Inside the coffins?" the old man asked, almost bewildered.

"You heard me." the guard spat.

"Oh, alright..." The man looked back to the boy dressed in the rags atop the coffin. "Do as he says."

The boy obeyed, taking a crowbar that was resting beside the coffins to lift up the lid on the one on the top.

"Best be warned, sergeant, eh? Madame le Guillotine's early work is not a pretty sight. See for yourself, if you've got the stomach."

The boy reached into the coffin and pulled out a sack, tossing it to the guard in one swift movement. The guard took one look at the old potato sack, feeling the round object inside of it and seeing the red stains that covered it, and tossed it back in disgust. Everybody around burst into laughter.

"Take it back!" he waved his hand towards the gate. "Go on, clear out!"

"The other two are even prettier!" the old man cackled.

"Get out of here! Go on!"

"Alright, alright..." the man cracked the whip on the carriage, the horses springing to life and leading him out of the city. "You don't know what you're missing."

xxx

The carriage came to a halt after a good deal of traveling. The officers on horses that had left through the gates before the old man were present, as they were on the same side as The Scarlet Pimpernel, and they were just used for a diversion, disguising themselves as officers to make getting through the gates easier for the large group. They all got off of their horses and helped carry down the coffins, using the crowbar to open the lid of each one, revealing the alive and well Fabrays.

"My darling..." Count de Fabray embraced his wife, and then Quinn, because thanks to some miracle, they were alive and well. Count de Fabray looked questioningly at the man still perched atop the carriage. "Who is this man who risks so much for us?"

"That, sir, is The Scarlet Pimpernel." the man who was dressed as a priest, who was now dressed as an officer answered with a respectful smile. Count de Fabray nodded in deep gratitude, then mounted his horse and he and his family, along with most of the men rode in the other direction, headed towards the coast.

The man atop the carriage, The Scarlet Pimpernel, tugged at the gray hair upon his head, pulling it off completely, revealing his real hair, chestnut brown, thick, and healthy, underneath. He tossed the wig into the back of the wagon, continuing to pull off the makeup that such concealed his natural features. This man who had looked so old and vile before now had the demeanor of a young, strong man. The Scarlet Pimpernel was a master of disguise.

"Kurt?" the disguised officer asked The Scarlet Pimpernel, more commonly known as Sir Kurt Hummel. Kurt's expression was serious and he began speaking in a new voice. Not the voice of the old man he sported not even a half hour ago. A young, high voice, natural and smooth. He spoke with haste, speaking words that were of extreme importance.

"Within the hour, this countryside will be swarming with soldiers. I only hope that you'll reach the coast before they can catch up with you, Finn. Do you know the rendezvous?"

"Unchanged?" Finn questioned.

"Unchanged. My ship will be waiting to take you to England." Kurt nodded towards the direction where the group had just departed. "Now go quickly, Finn. Godspeed."

"And what about you, Kurt?"

"I'm off to Paris." Kurt gave a sly smile, winking at Finn. "But I shall see you shortly."